Knee update (because I know you're all riveted):
Well, I got bad news from the orthopedic surgeon, then some not-as-bad-but-still-not-good news from the physical therapist. The ortho found a structural problem with the way my leg is built that is helping pull my kneecap out of alignment. There's a surgery to correct it called lateral release . . . they go in and chop a tendon, and between the healing and the scar tissue, the tendon comes out longer so that it doesn't pull on the kneecap. Considering that previous therapy has failed, the surgeon thought that might be the problem. Unfortunately, the surgery is kind of a crapshoot--it helps 50%-70% of patients and makes about 10% worse. Eeek! The PT, on the other hand, told me that there have been amazing advances since the last time I was doing therapy . . . and she uncovered some issues in her evaluation. She did all kinds of tests that my previous PTs didn't do, so this new stuff might help enough that I can get by without surgery. Or, it could help but not enough. Or, it could help and then the physical problem would undo that work. OR, it could work and I could need surgery anyway to remove scar tissue. That surgery, though, would have a pretty good chance of being effective. So, I'm playing it by ear . . . if the PT doesn't help, I'm going to have the surgery. The odds of it helping aren't good, but at least there's a chance of improvement . . . just "dealing" would offer no chance. I just can't take this anymore. A couple of years ago, I climbed South Sister with a hangover and nasty altitude sickness . . . now I can barely make it up the stairs.
But enough about me. Do y'all recognize this commercial holiday? Do you "celebrate" with mockery and irony? Do you ignore it? Personally, I think it's B.S., but I usually cave and do something anyway . . . but I love excuses to buy pretty underwear and fun sex toys.
Well, I got bad news from the orthopedic surgeon, then some not-as-bad-but-still-not-good news from the physical therapist. The ortho found a structural problem with the way my leg is built that is helping pull my kneecap out of alignment. There's a surgery to correct it called lateral release . . . they go in and chop a tendon, and between the healing and the scar tissue, the tendon comes out longer so that it doesn't pull on the kneecap. Considering that previous therapy has failed, the surgeon thought that might be the problem. Unfortunately, the surgery is kind of a crapshoot--it helps 50%-70% of patients and makes about 10% worse. Eeek! The PT, on the other hand, told me that there have been amazing advances since the last time I was doing therapy . . . and she uncovered some issues in her evaluation. She did all kinds of tests that my previous PTs didn't do, so this new stuff might help enough that I can get by without surgery. Or, it could help but not enough. Or, it could help and then the physical problem would undo that work. OR, it could work and I could need surgery anyway to remove scar tissue. That surgery, though, would have a pretty good chance of being effective. So, I'm playing it by ear . . . if the PT doesn't help, I'm going to have the surgery. The odds of it helping aren't good, but at least there's a chance of improvement . . . just "dealing" would offer no chance. I just can't take this anymore. A couple of years ago, I climbed South Sister with a hangover and nasty altitude sickness . . . now I can barely make it up the stairs.
But enough about me. Do y'all recognize this commercial holiday? Do you "celebrate" with mockery and irony? Do you ignore it? Personally, I think it's B.S., but I usually cave and do something anyway . . . but I love excuses to buy pretty underwear and fun sex toys.
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As for Valentine's Day, I don't celebrate it in any specific/commercialized way. In fact, this year, we ended up just napping together for the afternoon/evening.
When I was little, though, I used to love making Valentine's Day card boxes in school each year, and exchanging cards (even if they were often just generic, mass-produced, cartoon-character-branded ones from the grocery store). I always made the most elaborately customized boxes, with things like blinking LEDs (hot stuff for the early '80s). I would also sometimes put encoded messages on peoples' cards, because I was weird that way. I only ever received two really special (i.e., not the generic, must-give-everyone-in-the-class-one) cards: One from a very quiet girl in sixth grade who had a crush on me, I think; and one from a guy in that same class who was apparently impressed by my computer skills (or so he wrote on the card). I actually kept those two cards for years; I think that I still have them, somewhere....