The Russian

Yesterday when I left physical therapy I was told that today we were going to do some massaging on my knee for today's appointment.  I thought, this is great, a massage that my insurance is going to cover… this makes it worth it.

Who was I kidding. I walked in (hobbled in on crutches) for my appointment and my Physical Therapist says to me "Are you ready for the Russian?"  The Russian?  This does NOT sound like a massage to me!  He follow that up with "Have you ever seen Rocky?"  No, I have never seen Rocky, but when anyone talks about Rocky this is the first thought that comes to my mind.

Uh, No. Thank. You.  I have no desire to come out of PT bloodied and bruised!  I will come back next week for my regular PT appointment full of squats and calf lifts, but for now….I am not interested in your "Russian".

After some hesitations and a few additional questions I discovered that "The Russian" is really just a setting on the electrical stimulation machine.  Well… If you would have said that, I would have been all for it!  E-Stem is my favorite part of Physical Therapy.  In fact, I heard that a person can actually buy their own E-Stem machine at the State Fair (along with getting your teeth whitened, glasses and jewelry cleaned and purchasing exercise equipment, but that post is for another day).  So off we went to the back to do the e-stem!  And let me tell you what, it was great:)  Unfortunately, this is not the same e-stem where they hook you up, turn off the lights, give you a fluffy pillow and let you doze off.  This is the kind where they make you stand up and attempt to activate muscles that have not been activated for about 8 weeks.

But it's all good.  We could see results instantly and several hours later I am still feeling great.

In more serious news. On Monday I will hypothetically be able to walk on my own… sans crutches… but we will see if that becomes a reality, I will take all of the prayers I can get right now.  It has been a long 7-8 weeks, but I have become stronger physically, emotionally and mentally because of it.  There have been so many times that I have said "i can't do it" and guess what… I did…. because I have to.

Have a Happy Thanksgiving this week!

PS - Several of you have asked me about the cat.  We came to the conclusion that we will keep the name Fiona since he already thinks that is his name:)

Fiona vs. Fernando: Part Deux

Fast forward 3 months…..

I do NOT want a cat.  She is mean.  She is mean to my dog, she is mean to Kevin's dog, she is mean to me.  The only person she really gets along with is Kevin.  Kevin calls her and she comes running to him, because she listens to him.  I call her and she runs the other way.  If this photo doesn't convince you about what an awful cat she is I don't know what will!

Every picture of her turns out like this, and this is NOT photoshopped!

There are other reasons I don't like the cat.  When I take a piece of jewelry off she will run off with it if I don't put it away immediately.   One night I took my wedding ring off for a moment and the little sh*t grabbed it and ran, thank goodness I had two working legs at the time!  When I take a bath she sits in the bathroom and stares at you, when you close the curtain she peaks around it.  After I got home from surgery I had to lock her out of the bedroom as she would fight with the dogs constantly, she would then throw herself at the door and make it bang all day.  There are other things she does to me, I can't think of them all right now.

The cat has no fear as you can see from this video and picks on the Abbinator CONSTANTLY:

But Kevin loves this cat, and I know that my dog can be very needy and whiney sometimes as well, and I really need to learn to pick and choose my battles.  So I guess we are keeping the cat.  Today I took Fiona in to get her fixed and declawed (something I swore I would never do to a cat because I think it borders on inhumane but I also don't want to purchase new living room furniture and bedroom furniture in the next year).  So I drop the cat off, go to work and no less than a few minutes later receive a phone call that goes like this…..

The Vet: "Sarah, this is the vet, we uh, I just, well… do you know that Fiona has a p*n!s?"

Me: "*insert awkward uncomfortable laugh here* uh, no? Are you sure?" (How old am I?)

The Vet:"Yea, well, I went in to examine her and get ready to do the procedure, but…. Fiona is a he… I've actually had three other people look at her… him… and come to the same conclusion."

Me:"Ok, well can you fix him then?"

The Vet:"Well, there is the problem, your cat doesn't seem to have any testicles"

Me:"Oh My!  Well…. then what do you recommend?"

The Vet:"Well… I don't really know….. I guess you could just leave him like he is and if anything ever changes you could bring him back…."

Me: Well, ok, hmmmm, well I guess that will be the plan?

There was a lot of laughing during the above conversation!

When I did pick the cat up, the vet was just as perplexed as could be, in all of her years in doing this, she has never encountered a cat like this. 

So, in the long run I guess that the cat saved me some money.  BUT, I think that after today a lot of things have been explained.  It is evident that she has been acting out because she is having an identity crisis:)  Others tell me that her identity crisis is the least of her concerns right now, which is true!

All in all, I have been laughing about this all day today - One of the funniest things that has happened in quite some time!

The ultimate question still remains though, do we change her/his/it's name?  My vote is for Fernando, Kevin says we need to leave it as Fiona (it is his cat ultimately).  He continues to refer to it as a she, I'm pretty sure it is an it at this point. 

Fiona vs. Fernando Part 1

The story really begins several months ago all because of a rodent.  

Several months ago when I was in the basement doing laundry and changing out the sheets on the guest bed I noticed that we had evidence of a mouse.  If there is one thing I hate more than anything else in this world, it is a mouse.  I screamed, I cried, I ran upstairs, I refused to go back downstairs, I cried some more and declared that I was going to move out of our house because there was a mouse in the basement (more like a family, but that is a story for another day).  I bought packages and packages of sticky traps and snap traps - the little rodents would get stuck and then peel themselves off of the traps or set the traps off but escape.  I had caught a total of 0 after several weeks (at which point I am sure the things had multiplied).  This was also about the time that one of my favorite episodes of Duck Dynasty came out, when the Robertson's had mice, Miss Kay got three cats!

SO……...

I begged Kevin for a cat, I just KNEW that if we had a cat it would catch the mice, I had to have a cat… but Kevin was 'allergic'. 

My dear Neighbor Ms M. knew how much I wanted a cat (although I don't think she knew about the rodent issue), so one day in the middle of July she shows up to my front door with a present.  A sweet little kitten from her parents farm.  It was the saddest looking kitten, barely pushing 4 weeks, had eye issues, the momma cat had abandoned it and "Sarah, it's going to get run over by a combine if you don't take it… "  If you know me at all, you know I am a sucker for situations like this, but at the same time the thing was as HOMELY and UGLY as a toad.  I turned to look at Kevin and he said "sure, we can keep it"  (wrong answer!).  So we started off with the kitten on a trial period.  It used it's litter box, it didn't make a lot of noise, it didn't do much of anything but sit on top of our laptops to stay warm.  For several weeks I nursed this cat back to health. 

And then…. Kevin named it.  On the way home from somewhere he looks at me and says "I think we should name the cat Fiona" (it was obviously a girl, it didn't have boy parts).  Once you name an animal you are stuck with it. There are no take-backsies 

Light At The End Of The Tunnel

I think the title of this blog says it all.  I don't know specifically what it was this weekend, but something happened.  I had a revelation that not only have I far passed the halfway point, but I see the light at the end of the tunnel!

So Wednesday I am going to be starting to add weight to my leg when I walk, but on Saturday morning I figured what the heck, why not start now.  Honestly, what are 4 days going to do after 5 1/2 weeks?  So far so good!  This means that I am just at 3 weeks from ditching the crutches and having my life completely back!  Let me tell you about the to do list I have in store for housework - I may have to take more time off from work just to get my list taken care of!