Friday Funny

As the thermometer in my car hit 86 degrees at 5:30 yesterday afternoon, I realized what a smart decision it was – almost 20 years ago now, (yikes!) – to move to a more tropical kind of setting.  So in honor of my frozen friends to the north, my sympathies, and warmest hugs, go out to you.

FF Winter dogs

Enjoy the ride.

Hope your weekend doesn’t turn you into a popsicle!  And for Wonder Mutt’s sake, keep those transmissions from dragging too low!  Happy Friday faithful friends!

And The Results Are…..

….not in.

Yeah…..soooooo……remember when I said I was dreading what The Man was going to tell me when I went back to see him about my knees?  Well, I’m still not really sure exactly WHAT happened.

Huh?

Yeah, that was me.  Pigtails and all.

I think a lot of this is my own fault.  I’ve had right knee issues for SO long that I almost don’t remember what it’s like to NOT have pain.  After Wine and Dine, when pain suddenly showed up in the LEFT knee, I figured that was the one I better bring up first when I went in for my appointment.  Now, I DID make sure to tell The Man that both these freakin’ things have been a pain in my dupa – so to speak – but the left knee pain was a newer occurrence.

After doing exactly what he told me to do – and pretty much doing nothing that he said I shouldn’t, the left knee is feeling decent.  Not perfect, but decent.  The original pain in the ass right one though, well, let’s just say I am NOT a happy Black Dog.  Or Nemo either.

mad nemo

I am one pissed off clownfish.  No joke.

After a lot of blahblahblahblahblahblah, I just busted out with a I HAVE A HALF MARATHON IN NOVEMBER.  WHAT THE FRIG DO I HAVE TO DO TO BE READY FOR IT??!!  I knew I was in trouble when I was pretty much answered with the same look as Boo.  Then things got interesting when I heard I may be able to run 2-3 miles for the rest of my life.  ‘Scuse me?  What was that?  2-3 MILES???  ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR EVER-LOW-MILEAGE MIND?!?  I hate to point out the obvious Doc, but 2-3 miles ain’t 13.1.  Or 26.2.  DUH.  I think that was about the time I busted out the S word – no, the OTHER S word – and he knew I was no longer riding the Downtown Train on the Conservative Treatment Line.  Thanks Doc, but this girl is derailing this ride.  With glee.

Heeeeeere's anesthesia!

Heeeeeere’s anesthesia!

Not just yet though.  First, it’s a return trip to MRI Land to check for a meniscus tear – which, let’s face it, we’re 99.9% is NOT the case.  Simply because that would be too simple a fix.  And I never do ANYTHING simple.  EVER.  Then it’s see what the radiologist thinks, see what The Man thinks, and then possibly see what The Man’s partner thinks.  There was mention of possible microfracture surgery, but I’m pretty sure there’s another, much less scary sounding option out there.  Which I only mention as another runDisney fan-friend of mine had said alternate surgery done and was back to running after eight weeks.  And get this – he had THE SAME EXACT DIAGNOSIS AS ME.  Plus, why should my sister be the only chick in this family with bionic parts?

Whaaaatttttt?????

Whaaaatttttt?????

So, as the saying goes, we shall see.  MRI Part Two is tomorrow, and we should have the radiology report sometime next week.  Then, who knows.  Stay tuned.  This could get quite interesting.  Or ugly.  Or just plain downright hilarious when I really go off the ledge.  Jumping.  And screaming hysterically.  Wearing a cape.  Because I will just have to disagree with Miz Edna this time around.

Yes, Edna, yes.  Capes.

Yes, Edna, yes. Capes it shall be.

Enjoy the ride.

Have you had to make a decision about surgery that you weren’t 100% positive about?  How did it work out?  Any regrets?  Did you say anything embarrassing while you were knocked out?  What was it??  Tell me!!!  I won’t tell anyone, I swear!

 

Wonder Mutt Wednesday

Lots of catching up to do now that we’re back from Princess weekend – which was pretty damn awesome!  So until then, a little more Labrador hump day humor to get things rolling…

Hoarder dog

 

Enjoy the ride.

Do you have a canine hoarding problem in your dog house?  Has the hoarding led to the ingestion of rather fancy items of bling?  Who got the dubious honor of following the offender around the yard with rubber gloves?  Was it successful?

Friday Funny – The Princess Edition

As I get ready to hit the road and head on up to Disney World as an official Princess spectator, I thought it only appropriate to pay homage to all princesses – both of the Disney persuasion and otherwise – the best way I know how….with just a little bit of royal snarkiness.

FF Grumpy cat princess animals pics

 

Enjoy the ride.

Good luck to everyone running this weekend!  Be sure to say hi on your way past me Sunday morning.  I’ll be the one with a bottle of tequila in my paws, trying to stay warm.  JUST KIDDING DISNEY POLICE.  JUST KIDDING…..

Wonder Mutt Wednesday

In honor of the members of Team Can-Am, and all the other princesses, (and their princes), on their way to the most Magical Place on Earth for Princess Weekend…..

WMW are we there yet

ARE WE THERE YET???

 

Enjoy the ride.

IF I can get my dupa to the entrance of Epcot on Sunday morning, (please be with me road closure traffic gods) make sure you say hi!  I’ll be the one with the funny race signs.  hehehe…..

I Think I’m Going To Be Sick

Sick?  Okay.  Injured?  Yeah.  Over it.  Thank you nervous stomach.  Appreciate it…

Kill me now.

Kill me now.

I’m sure all these nerves are for nothing, but that’s just how I’m rolling these days when it comes to my knee prognosis.  Three months ago, after a beyond disastrous Wine and Dine, The Man was finally able to determine what was up my knees dupa. (Sounds kind of anatomically questionable, doesn’t it?)  Anywho, he told me to get the spring-loaded, thankGodIfoundsomenotsoscary orthopedic shoes, stop running, start walking, and don’t even think about basically doing ANYTHING I was doing in the gym before, i.e., no lunges, squats, jumping, square dancing, or full contact sweater knitting.

Don't even think about it.

Don’t even think about it.

Fast forward three months when I’m supposed to go back and see The Man about the next step.  Which is TODAY (gulp!).  I’ve been trying not to make myself crazy about what he’s going to say – “trying” being the key word here.  I’ve got myself so worked up that he’s going to axe any future running, that I’m making myself completely crazy.  Which is very unlike me.  The getting worked up part.  Not the crazy part.  We already know that’s totally me.

Nope. Not even close.

Nope. Not even close.

The left knee – that was bothering me the most the last time I went to see The Man – has been feeling MUCH better.  The right knee, which has totally made me its bitch for almost two years now, has other ideas in mind.  Like aching.  All the time.  Which I could easily tolerate, and have.  QUITE OFTEN.  Until said pain-in-my-ass anatomical location decides to vault itself out of ache zone and jump full throttle into the, “So you think you’re going to get a sub 2-hour half do you?  DO YOU?  I THINK NOT” zone.  That really pisses me off.  A LOT.

This is my mad face.

See?  Pissed off.  A lot.

As I sit here typing this though, I know there’s not a damn friggin’ thing I can do about what The Man is going to say.  I think the options may be let’s give it some more time, maybe try some PT, start back slow and with low mileage and see how it goes, go balls to the wall and see what happens – MY favorite option but obviously an unwise decision – or, the worst words EVER – run no more. #dunhdunhduuuuuuunnnhhhhhh…

This is my REALLY mad face.

This is my REALLY mad face.

No matter how much of a freak-out I’m having or however much sleep I lose tonight, the outcome will be what it’s going to be.  I am just going to spend the next however many hours praying to the run and knee gods, and hope my sacrifices and temper tantrums over the past few years months have been enough to get me to a better place.  Because this whole I’mjustgoonadrinkalltheritasandeatalltheMooseTracks treatment plan is starting to do a number on me.  And my waistline.  Not to mention my liver.  Must be the size of a darn watermelon by now…(not really but it sounded funny, didn’t it?)

Oh how I HATE when that happens.

Damn ceiling lights…

Stay strong my friends.  You may need it to keep me from  going off the ledge.

 Enjoy the ride.

Ever found yourself holding your breath while waiting the doc’s prognosis?  Did you pass out?  Was oxygen intervention needed?  Should I bring a paper bag with me?  E-GADS.