Man Overboard

On our recent vacation to Colorado, the hubs thought it would be a good idea to substitute semi-safe rafting for non-safe kayaking. I am a professional non-outdoors woman and an avoider of all things risky like roller coasters, slip & slides, ski slopes, burro/pack mule trips, sleeping outside in tents of any kind, campgrounds, petting zoos and outdoor toilets, so I was less than thrilled, but he said that our family needed some adventure so I acquiesced reluctantly. Who am I to get in the way of adventure?  

We showed up at the appointed time and as I squeezed the smelly protective helmet on my head, he asked me if I was scared. I said no, as I wasn't scared so much as resolved to get it over with. We had a quick crash course in what to do if we fell overboard, a quick reassurance that the rapids were not strong due to the low water levels in the river, and then we put our inflatable kayaks in the river and took off. I spent the first half hour paddling backwards to make sure that I could stay up with our 10 year old daughter, unsure how she would do in the rapids. She was a natural and kept up with the group just fine with a little help from our guide.

The following is a text I sent to my sister in law about how I did in the rapids:

Haha- well I fell in and drank some water and my helmet came over my eyes and my life jacket came up to my chin and I couldn't see a durn thing. I held on to my paddle for dear life and the current took me into a huge rock. Then I bumped the hell out of my leg and knee. I lost my kayak and it went flying, I bounced back to it somehow, but couldn't get back into it. Guides helped me get back in.

I was wearing a wet-suit so in the pics they took; it basically looks like a huge killer whale flying off the side.

Her reply to my near-death experience:

OMG! I am laughing so hard I am crying and J is asking what’s going on cause nothing can be that funny.

I am always happy to provide serious entertainment; all in the name of adventure. Laters.

Doh...

Despite being fairly savvy with computers and social media, I didn't realize that Instagram was a shared social network site; I thought it was strictly a camera app when I started using it a few years ago.

Part of my recovery surgeries for breast cancer have been  procedures called “fat grafting.” Basically, they liposuction small amounts of fat (when I say small, I mean small, I tried and tried for large scale body sculpting, but no dice) from your thighs or abdomen and inject the fat cells into the surgical site, where they grow and fill in the scars and depression areas. After having it done several times in my tummy, I decided to try the thighs to see if the discomfort was less. It was not, and I was sutured, heavily bruised and black and blue all down the back of each leg.

I wanted to see what things looked like up close, so while on a high dose of Percocet and wearing my “special undies,” I awkwardly held the phone behind me and took a couple photos of my back side and legs.   (please don’t stop me here and ask why I didn't just use the full length mirror to see, because that would have been too easy) The photos were perfectly hideous and blurred but I kept them for reference. Reference to what? I don't know, probably reference to get myself to the gym. 

Luckily, I realized a few months later that everyone on the interwebs could see my cellulite, granny panties, and bruises. Thank God I had no followers… Laters.

"Special Undies"

Friday Night

There are reasons why I don’t watch YouTube and they are myriad and well thought out, and thoroughly supported by the following story.

Friday night, being exhausted from my long week of being awesome, I turned in to bed, flannel p.j’s and all around 8:45. I thought it would be a good time to check my twitter feed and clicked on a link, which took me to a YouTube video. I can’t for the life of me remember what the initial video was, but the video underneath was, “See a giraffe give birth.” I thought this was a worthy follow up, so I watched a giraffe give birth. As a side note, giraffes make it look very easy and despite the 100 plus pounds of baby, the mama giraffe quickly birthed and went on about her business.  I think it took about 5 minutes total, to which time-wise was the point where I was screaming ,”You did this to me, I hate you!” and “Find the anesthesiologist!!” to my husband.

The video right under the giraffe birthing was one of an elephant birthing (wow, do they have a lot of amniotic fluid) and they are also very no nonsense and quick. The best part; to rouse the baby elephant, the mother kicks it around until it stands up.  I am interested in trying this technique retroactively on my teenagers- I’ll let you know how it works.

 But you see now how my night was rapidly deteriorating. Below the elephant birth, was the NATURAL childbirth of triplets by a very cheeky, earthy mum in Australia, who is now my hero.  I can’t even describe it except to just tip my hat and say, “wow.” I had one and a half natural births and I cannot recommend an epidural highly enough.

Under the triplet birth, was a page titled “In memory of our little angel” which was a memorial to a stillborn baby. I watched 3 more memorials and then I was sobbing.  The hubs and I lost twins early in our marriage and it still hurts to be reminded about it no matter how it happens.

He had joined me around 9:30 and lay happily watching March Madness on his iPad, and I was determined to not let him know I was crying over YouTube, so I strengthened my quivery voice, with lip trembling, and said ,”Babe, how old would our twins be if they were still alive?”  As I said the word “alive,” my voice broke and I started loudly sobbing and he just looked at me, completely taken aback and totally not sure what to say. He said, “What is wrong??” and I told him that I watched a sad video on YouTube and he said, “What are you watching??” 

I then bawled out, “An elephant giving birth…and a baby memorial” to which he said, “Babe, you have fallen down the rabbit hole, why in the world would you watch that??” He did laugh at me a bit on the elephant part, but he helped me calculate that the twins would be almost 18 and I reminded him that I knew they were girls based on a dream I'd had. I cried a bit more and he got me a tissue and scratched my back and I felt better and sort of relieved that I didn't have almost 18 year old twin girls, as that would be hard work. Laters.