My reasons:
1. I never update this thing.
2. I keep having schools send me transfer info but I'm way too lazy to think about filling anything out.
3. I'm riding next semester instead of taking pointe class regularly.
So I saw Kocher way back on December 1st and he turned me loose. Basically, Hinton is a crackpot. My MRI was spotless; I just have an inflamed iliopsoas and he's got me popping enough ibuprofen in the hopes of calming it down that I can feel my liver crying. But I'm done with that tomorrow (?...again, I'm a flakesauce). I think its helping but I can definitely tell when it's wearing off.
But I'm dancing again. It feels awesome. I haven't been able to go through passe on both legs for three freaking years! It's so bizarre! And not having to remember to be careful about either one--I can finally remember combinations again! Well...sort of; my memory is shot from the time off. Righty gets a little angry when I push the develope a la second and devant too much (but we're talking when I'm pushing for things decently over 90, in the past I couldn't go past 45); lefty I can feel ramming into scar tissue when I push the turnout too much--but I can tell it's all temporary; I'm finally going to GET BETTER. I have to get my ass back into shape though. Dance major review is in early Feb and apparently I may be in danger. I guess they finally realized that, though next semester will be my 4th here, it will only be my second dancing. And apparently that's not cool for a dance major.
The other exciting news is that I'm riding next semester. I know that I quit in a rather irrational and rash decision so it only seems right that my decision to start again would be equally irrational and rash. Since Kocher was cool with it, I figured what the heck and set up an evaluation ride and all that fun stuff. None of the lesson times really fit in my schedule but I figured it didn't hurt to see. And the head instructor was really nice. So I decided that having pointe three times a week is rather unnecessary and it wouldn't hurt to just take it as an audit so I could ride instead. Yea...Again, flakesauce.
Finals suck.
The end.
Showing posts with label ballet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ballet. Show all posts
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Sunday, March 9, 2008
I wish I could make this stuff up
The events of this weekend have directly influenced the creation of this blog. I couldn't make this shit up if I tried. My roommate and I decided we should write a novel...I suppose a blog is a close second.
I should probably preface all of this with a bit of an introduction. I'm a freshman in college, studying dance and biology with a pre-med concentration. Originally from Boston, now in school in Baltimore. All this dorm stuff is old hat to me, I went away to boarding school when I was 14. Not really sure where "home" is any more. I've had hip surgery twice over the past two years, a third may or may not be on the horizon for this summer. We'll focus on one oddity a week for now--this week's will be the hip surgery, next week perhaps the boarding school thing, and the following my choice of majors. Or maybe not.
Yes, I'm fully aware that most 19 year olds haven't had multiple hip surgeries. I'm just extra cool and special like that I suppose. Two years ago, back when I was a silly and naive newly turned 17 year old, I was dumb enough to believe the idiot of a dance teacher that told me doing a straddle leap within the first 10 minutes of class was a good idea--I landed, my leg twisted in, and I felt something crunch in my right hip. After being tossed around by a couple of docs (including being put on crutches "just to see"), I got one to agree to MRI the thing and was informed I had a labral tear. Fun stuff. That doc also agreed to do arthroscopic surgery to, as far as I knew at the time, fix it. 18 months later, something was up. Went back, he MRI'ed it and I had another tear. Fantastic because I hadn't done anything out of the ordinary (ok, so I suppose dancing 40 hours a week isn't exactly normal, but we've already established that I'm not all that normal either). He told me that I was crazy, there was nothing wrong--umm, hello, I could see the tear on the MRI myself and I haven't even gone to med school yet. So I walked out of his office. Yada yada yada. Finally, in August, after have more x-rays than most people get in a lifetime, a cortisone injection, a CT scan, and spending more hours in PT and in my ortho's office than I spent at my job, we discovered that my femoral head took after myself in terms of not being totally normal (see, I tell you, being normal is overrated! Even my bones aren't normal!). So I had another arthroscopic surgery to fix that (mine's figure B) and the new labral tear in October. Got to spend a month crutching around a college campus and into suburbian hell for PT. They let me loose to do whatever I pleased again on January 17th and started letting me jump again on Valentine's Day (aww, isn't that sweet...). Now we've got some problemos over in Mr. Left hip, but je ne sais pas what's up with that. Probably the same thing which is just superb. I've always wanted old lady hips! (some kid, during my month of crutching joy, asked what the crutches were for. When he heard it was because I had hip surgery, his response was none other than "oh, my grandma had that"...). Enough about that. You'll probably hear more about it later.
So this weekend. Yea.
Friday was rather uneventful. The fuse blew in half our room again (we weren't even using the hairdryer this time!) but they fixed it and life went on. Then I thought my roommate might have been killed by an armed robber on the loose when she didn't come back until midnight, but she was just in the library.
Saturday rudely interrupted my sleep pattern at 2am when for some reason (probably a hippy smoking a hooka in their room) the fire alarm went off. Did I mention it was cold and windy outside? No, well, it was. Fine enough, got back to sleep around 2:30am. 8:30am rolled around and my alarm clock awoke me for work. It was pouring rain and this was unbeknownest to me until I was sprinting out of my dorm to get to work on time. So I looked like a drowned puppy. Got back from work and we discovered that our suite was on the last roll of toilet paper so the roommate and I ventured out to Target (in the windy wetness) to get some. All is well aside from the overwhelming number of choices for toilet paper. I believe we went with Scott. We make our return to find that the back gate of campus is closed and locked because it is now after dark. Rather than walk the extra mile to the front gate, we hop the fence. This is not an easy task while wearing rain gear and carrying lots of bags. In the process, my roommate rips her pants and we (only slightly) break the fence. We trek through the woods with the promise of a warm dorm room on the other side. Roommate gets taken out by a down tree--lands in the mud. At this point, we decide we should write a novel. Get back to the room and head off to watch some African films for one of my roommate's classes. We almost get blown away on the walk there. And find that one of the windows has been blown out. We survive and, after some trouble with the remotes, even watch the DVD! We decided that, if the day had been made into a Facebook album, it'd be titled "The Adventures of Gimpy and Split Pants Girl".
Sunday...oh, Sunday. So. Fire alarm went off at 4am. We were fucking pissed. Then we opened the door to the hallway and were overwhelmed with white powdery smoke. Some drunk asshats decided to empty 6 fire extinguishers in our hall. Fantastic. They've "cleaned" it up, but it still is like a freaking winter wonderland out in the hall. Oh how I love college.
I should probably preface all of this with a bit of an introduction. I'm a freshman in college, studying dance and biology with a pre-med concentration. Originally from Boston, now in school in Baltimore. All this dorm stuff is old hat to me, I went away to boarding school when I was 14. Not really sure where "home" is any more. I've had hip surgery twice over the past two years, a third may or may not be on the horizon for this summer. We'll focus on one oddity a week for now--this week's will be the hip surgery, next week perhaps the boarding school thing, and the following my choice of majors. Or maybe not.
Yes, I'm fully aware that most 19 year olds haven't had multiple hip surgeries. I'm just extra cool and special like that I suppose. Two years ago, back when I was a silly and naive newly turned 17 year old, I was dumb enough to believe the idiot of a dance teacher that told me doing a straddle leap within the first 10 minutes of class was a good idea--I landed, my leg twisted in, and I felt something crunch in my right hip. After being tossed around by a couple of docs (including being put on crutches "just to see"), I got one to agree to MRI the thing and was informed I had a labral tear. Fun stuff. That doc also agreed to do arthroscopic surgery to, as far as I knew at the time, fix it. 18 months later, something was up. Went back, he MRI'ed it and I had another tear. Fantastic because I hadn't done anything out of the ordinary (ok, so I suppose dancing 40 hours a week isn't exactly normal, but we've already established that I'm not all that normal either). He told me that I was crazy, there was nothing wrong--umm, hello, I could see the tear on the MRI myself and I haven't even gone to med school yet. So I walked out of his office. Yada yada yada. Finally, in August, after have more x-rays than most people get in a lifetime, a cortisone injection, a CT scan, and spending more hours in PT and in my ortho's office than I spent at my job, we discovered that my femoral head took after myself in terms of not being totally normal (see, I tell you, being normal is overrated! Even my bones aren't normal!). So I had another arthroscopic surgery to fix that (mine's figure B) and the new labral tear in October. Got to spend a month crutching around a college campus and into suburbian hell for PT. They let me loose to do whatever I pleased again on January 17th and started letting me jump again on Valentine's Day (aww, isn't that sweet...). Now we've got some problemos over in Mr. Left hip, but je ne sais pas what's up with that. Probably the same thing which is just superb. I've always wanted old lady hips! (some kid, during my month of crutching joy, asked what the crutches were for. When he heard it was because I had hip surgery, his response was none other than "oh, my grandma had that"...). Enough about that. You'll probably hear more about it later.
So this weekend. Yea.
Friday was rather uneventful. The fuse blew in half our room again (we weren't even using the hairdryer this time!) but they fixed it and life went on. Then I thought my roommate might have been killed by an armed robber on the loose when she didn't come back until midnight, but she was just in the library.
Saturday rudely interrupted my sleep pattern at 2am when for some reason (probably a hippy smoking a hooka in their room) the fire alarm went off. Did I mention it was cold and windy outside? No, well, it was. Fine enough, got back to sleep around 2:30am. 8:30am rolled around and my alarm clock awoke me for work. It was pouring rain and this was unbeknownest to me until I was sprinting out of my dorm to get to work on time. So I looked like a drowned puppy. Got back from work and we discovered that our suite was on the last roll of toilet paper so the roommate and I ventured out to Target (in the windy wetness) to get some. All is well aside from the overwhelming number of choices for toilet paper. I believe we went with Scott. We make our return to find that the back gate of campus is closed and locked because it is now after dark. Rather than walk the extra mile to the front gate, we hop the fence. This is not an easy task while wearing rain gear and carrying lots of bags. In the process, my roommate rips her pants and we (only slightly) break the fence. We trek through the woods with the promise of a warm dorm room on the other side. Roommate gets taken out by a down tree--lands in the mud. At this point, we decide we should write a novel. Get back to the room and head off to watch some African films for one of my roommate's classes. We almost get blown away on the walk there. And find that one of the windows has been blown out. We survive and, after some trouble with the remotes, even watch the DVD! We decided that, if the day had been made into a Facebook album, it'd be titled "The Adventures of Gimpy and Split Pants Girl".
Sunday...oh, Sunday. So. Fire alarm went off at 4am. We were fucking pissed. Then we opened the door to the hallway and were overwhelmed with white powdery smoke. Some drunk asshats decided to empty 6 fire extinguishers in our hall. Fantastic. They've "cleaned" it up, but it still is like a freaking winter wonderland out in the hall. Oh how I love college.
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