Baby Steps

All right, before we get to the fun stuff, as promised, here are before and after pics of my scar! Woohoo!! :)

First day home--Steri Strips are totally sexy, oh yeah

Hmmm---now I can't remember when this was taken... Maybe 3-4 weeks post-surgery

OK, now that we got that out of the way, I present, Fun item #1. I finally saw Man of Steel and I gotta' say, I was really disappointed in it. I wanted to love it, I really did and I tried so hard to find something I *really really* liked, but ultimately, I thought it was a big waste of time. 

For one, having your movie be all about explosions and CGI does not make for a "cool" movie. It just makes it look cartoon-y and cheap. I had a huge problem with the final fight scenes. Not only do they seem to drag on for-frickin'-ever, but I felt like I was watching a cartoon. Look, if I wanted to watch a cartoon, I'd sit down and plop in a disc or two of Superman The Animated Series The show may be 16-17 years old now, but it still holds up incredibly well and Tim Daly is excellent as Clark/Superman. If you've never seen it, do yourself a favor and check it out, it's awesome.

Secondly, anyone who says that this was a "character" or "origin" story, no, that's just not right. If anything, I think Man of Steel has more of a "Superman Earth One" feel to it rather than Classic Supes, but that's just me. The Earth One line is intended to be for the "new" comic reader and is thus ultra modern. Now, I don't mind modernization--as long as it's done well. Fortunately, for Superman Earth One, J. Michael Straczynski writes a beautiful story. Sure, it's modern, but it still "feels" like a Superman comic. "Man of Steel" never felt like a Superman story, in fact, I thought it was too modern for it's own good. Instead of focusing on Clark/Superman and fleshing out both the story and his character, the movie instead becomes so obsessed with SFX that it ultimately morphs into the cartoon-y mess it is. I had the same problem with Green Lantern too. So. Much. Green. CGI. Zero character development, coupled with the fact that Ryan Reynolds was a *terrible* choice for Hal Jordan/Green Lantern made for a really terrible film.

The one positive thing I will say about Man of Steel is that Henry Cavill is fantastic as Clark/Superman! I always get super freaked whenever they start casting on superhero movies because you never know what you'll get. About the only choices I've liked right off the bat besides Cavill, were Robert Downey Jr, as Tony Stark, Chris Hemsworth as Thor, Hugh Jackman as Wolverine, Patrick Stewart as Professor X and despite initial disappointment that Edward Norton wouldn't return as Bruce Banner, I instantaneously accepted Mark Ruffalo when I saw The Avengers. However, Henry Cavill completely surpassed my expectations. he was great, but he's got nothing on Chris Reeve or Brandon Routh. Routh reminded me *a lot* of Chris Reeve in Superman Returns. Maybe that's why I really like it while the rest of the universe seems to hate it.

So to sum up my review in a sentence: OK movie that's obsessed with SFX and too modern for it's own good, is saved by Henry Cavill's performance as Clark Kent/Superman.

Now, onto the stuff you actually want to hear about: I give you, Fun Item #2 My Recovery!

We're getting awfully close to the 6-week time frame that was suggested and it's getting there---but not yet. I still have spasms 1-3+ times a day and I've fallen once thanks to my own stupidity. I'll get into that later. Back to the spasms first. There for a while, they were really bad. They would happen easily about 10+ times a day, and once they happened, I had no control over them. I would have to stand frozen for 6-7 minutes---though it felt like an eternity because the pain was so intense, before it stopped. Thankfully they changed my meds to help control the pain and it's helped a ton as the spasms aren't nearly as bad and I have a little more control over them, so I'm happy about that.

The thing I realized is that you have to take baby steps. Don't push yourself just because your doc said you should be better in 6 weeks. Recovery has a mind of its own and it'll either be as fast and easy or as difficult and painful as it likes ("Uh, I'll be forced to take 'Path B': Difficult & Painful for $2000, Alex") so you just have to realize that it takes *time*. Also, take into account that I have CP, so recovering from a surgery like this may not be as easy as it is for an able-bodied person.

Since I'm a writer, I equate my recovery to writing a story. It sounds easy and all these fantastically cool---AKA fucking awesome ideas are flowing through your tortured mind, but then you open your notebook to a blank page and....Nothing. Then you spend the next 6 hours agonizing over how you want to start your story. For an example of what I mean, here's a peek inside my head.

"God, I have all these great ideas for a story! They need to be written down! Let's do that, it'll be fun!"

*Takes composition book out, sets on desk, opens it*

"Oh, boy, oh boy, oh boy!"

*Looks at blank page, mind instantly goes blank*

"Shit! Ugh!!! How should I start this? With a descriptive scene, heavy on imagery?"

*Writes out scene, reads it*

"Nah, that sucks...Catchy dialogue between characters?*

*Scribbles out dialogue*

"OK, that's beyond shitty. Scrap it...Narration?"

*Writes monologue*

"Ah hell! Let's just go back to the dialogue. It's shit, but it was the kind of shit that could kinda' grow on me if I tweak it."

There you have it folks, my process. Exciting, I know. My point is that, like writing, recovery is hard shit. It may sound easy because your doctor makes it sound easy, but it's really not. It takes a lot of work and a whole crapload of willpower if you ever hope to be 100%.

All tight, it's late, and things seem to be blending into each other, meaning I need to go away from the computer.

More stories next time! :)

Shot Hammy

Late-night writing FTW!

I know I promised to post pics of the aftermath of my surgery, but that won't be happening until the next post because: 1. It's late 2. It's frickin' hot 3. There's like, a mega thunderstorm going on right now and I'm scared (There, we got that out of the way. It'll be discussed no further) and 4. Have I mentioned that spasms suck?

I have no idea why, but my hamstring and the back of my leg have been a pain in the ass the last couple of days. Then again, my therapist really worked it during our last session, so maybe that's why, because I could barely move at all yesterday. I'm actually amazed I was able to get out of the house at all---it was that bad.

Anyway, I don't really have anything awesome to talk about right now. I'll save all the good stuff for when I'm not losing my mind and sitting in a sticky pool of my own sweat and it feels like I've peed my pants ten times over...

Until next time!

In Honor of Vince Flynn

Vince Flynn passed away this afternoon after a lengthy battle with prostate cancer. He was only 47, much too young.

I normally wouldn't post about a death of an author like this, but Vince Flynn has had a profound impact on my life, so I thought I'd pay him my respect.

When I was young, I never had much of an appreciation for reading. I mean, I read the little kiddie books that were in the back of the bookstores and libraries, but that was pretty much it. About the only books longer than a handful of pages that held my attention, were books that were written by Roald Dahl and Louis Sachar, because they were funny and I understood the humor. My mom also tried to read me The Chronicles of Narnia, but I think that was a little too complex, I got some parts of it, but others were just way over my head.

Fast forward to junior high, where I was pretty much turned off of reading because we were "required" to read the books and more often than not, the teacher would choose some really shitty, mushy title that the class had never heard of and didn't give a rat's ass about reading a single page. I always hated this type of reading because it wasn't for pleasure and it wasn't enjoyable for me. When I read, I like to do it on my own time, where there's no pressure to read X amount of pages by such and such a date. I can just take as much time as I please.

Near the end of junior high, I developed a hardcore love for anything and everything science fiction, specifically Star Trek. For about four years straight, that's all I read, literally forgetting that there were other genres besides Science Fiction/Fantasy. However, around the middle of high school, my grandmother, a retired English teacher and opinionated critic of everything literature, didn't consider science fiction to be "real" literature. It sounds stupid now, but being that I was young and wanted to show my grandma that I could read "intelligent" books, I gave up my Star Trek lit fetish and really didn't read much of anything for several years.

It wasn't until 2009 that I discovered the author that would change how I felt about reading forever. I'm also a big fan of well-known thriller authors Dennis Lehane and David Baldacci, but on this particular trip to Barnes & Noble, I was looking for something fresh, something from an author I hadn't read before. That's how I stumbled (literally) across Vince Flynn.

I picked up Term Limits, the first novel he ever published and couldn't stop reading. After finishing the first chapter, I bought it and had it finished within the week. I subsequently went out and bought every book he had written, loving every minute of each book. It was after I had finished two of Vince's books that I discovered that I really *loved* reading again, it simply had to be a book that played to my interests and tastes.

That's why the news of his passing today is a little hard for me. He's literally responsible for letting me re-discover the joys that lie between 200+ pages.

So thank you Vince. Thank you for sharing your fantastic stories with the world. You quite literally changed the way I look at reading. Thank you for bringing a little piece of joy back into my life. May you rest in peace.

Recovery's A Bitch--AKA Never Underestimate the Power of Me

It's almost 6:30 A.M. as I write this, so I'm getting an early start today--amazing. However, by the time it's posted, it'll probably be at a less insane hour.

No, the above logo doesn't mean I've seen Man of Steel---yet. Once my body stops sucking so much, it'll happen and even if it decides to be annoyingly uncooperative, I'll find a way dammit!

No, really the logo is there because I'm proud---of me.

Going into surgery, I knew the recovery process was going to be tough, it always is, whether you want it to be or not. Thing is, I had no frickin' idea this one was going to be as difficult and emotionally exhausting as it has been. My doctor made it sound so simple: "Partial replacement, quicker recovery, you should start feeling better in X amount of weeks.....blah blah blah." (Not what he actually said)

Hot damn, it's been anything *but* easy. When I had my scope, it was done at a same day surgery center and I was walking later that evening. The same cannot be said for a partial knee replacement. Shit, if I had known it would be this hard, I would've turned down the surgery and just lived with arthritic knees for the rest of my life...OK, so we all know that's a fucking lie, but the whole experience has changed my entire personality and the way I do things. For instance, I forgot what it was like to be (kind of) completely helpless because I've been doing things for myself for the better part of 12 years now; things that were once easy, are now some of the most difficult, exhausting tasks ever. Oh, and don't even get me started on stairs, which I've now decided are the most evil things ever created by mankind (and no, I didn't take a free ride AKA fall down them this time) they're just so damn complicated.

Things like going to the bathroom, taking a shower, getting dressed in a dignified fashion, getting into my house etc. These are all things that I took for granted before the surgery. Well, never EVER again will I do such a thing. I also can't get up off the floor or in and out of a car without assistance. I know it'll come with time, it's just a bitch to have to rely on so much help. Also, spasms and spasticity *REALLY* suck, like a lot and so do the anxiety attacks that stem from them and not being able to move my body the way I want.

 A week ago, while attempting to climb the stairs because I had made really good progress and felt confident that I could make it to the top like a normal able-bodied person, a spasm hit near the middle of the staircase, causing my knee to buckle. I cried out in pain as my knee bent forward and pain shot up the back of my leg. Thankfully, my mom was there to spot me and we quickly got turned around to a comfortable position. As I lay spread out on the stairs, trying to breathe, tears streaming down my face from the pain, I swore and choked out: "Dammit! Fuck this, I hate pain. I want it gone! Just when you think you're making progress, you're body comes and slaps you in the face saying 'NO'." That was when I realized that this recovery process wasn't going to be as easy as I thought.

I know I probably sound like a huge, ungrateful and cranky bitch, but I'm really not. As many negatives that accompany the recovery process, there are also many upsides. I'm thankful, grateful really for all the prayers from family and friends as well as the cookies, cards and flower bouquets. I'm also thankful to the random strangers that have wished me well when I'm in public. Thank you, it keeps me sane.

Another upside is getting to use my wheelchair when I go out! I love that I fit everywhere!!! :D You have no idea how nice it is to not trip over the wheel of a clothes rack because your stupid walker won't fit through the damn crawlspace they call an "aisle". And because of my lovely inability to do stairs effectively, I've learned to do what I call "The Electric Butt Slide" which is basically going up and down the stairs on my ass. The wedgies are really uncool. but it's what works for the time being.

The other night as I was making my way down to my makeshift bed in the living room, I was halfway between a wedgie and my shorts falling off. When the shorts finally started to slip beyond my control, I looked at my mom, who was once again spotting me to make sure I didn't die going down and said: "Yes, I'm fully aware my pants are falling off and you can see my green underwear, a consequence of being me for now."

I've started rehab now and my therapist is really impressed with my progress compared to two weeks ago, so that's another thing that I feel awesome about. I'm really proud. I've only been going for three weeks and already, we're seeing huge improvements! :) It's going very well. Thank you again to everyone for the prayers, thoughts, juju, whatever, it's working!

Until next time!

P.S. I'll post pics of my sexy scar next time,