About that time I almost cried in Lambeau Field

There I was, 12.5 miles into the Green Bay Half Marathon, running through the players' tunnel and approaching Lambeau Field and I'm almost crying.

Still running. But almost crying.

And it's not because I'm in pain and just wishing the finish line would appear and I'd be done. Because honestly, at that point, I'm still feeling pretty good. Nope. I become emotional because all of a sudden it hits me what I've accomplished.

I'll try not to get all sappy, but I can't make any promises. Because in my mind? Finishing this half marathon was kind of a big step for me.

Take a step back in time to September 2007. After The Great Neck Slicing of 2007, I decided to run my first half marathon, the Fox Cities Half Marathon. I found a training plan, logged the miles and on race day, I finished the 13.1 miles. I was at a pretty good place in my life. Happy. Healthy. I had plans.

The next thing I knew, two months later The Monster decides to take up residence in my head. I get sick. Want to chop my head off it hurts so bad. I don't remember most of December 2007. Doctors figure out what wrong with me. I take the drugs. Force The Monster out of my head.

But in the process I take a million steps backwards in terms of fitness. One month I'm able to run 13.1 miles and just three months later I'm struggling to run a mile. It doesn't stop there. I lose big chunks of hair. I gain weight. I'm not happy.

But I don't want The Monster to think he's won. And since running is still so hard (and honestly at that point I didn't enjoy it), I set my sights on a triathlon. I finish my first - the Danskin Women's Triathlon - and my Mom says if she didn't know me, so would have thought I was one of the cancer patients or survivors crossing the finish line. I wasn't fast, but I was proud, because I showed The Monster he wasn't going to win. That I'd be back to the person I was before he invaded my head.

Someday.

And that's what I spent a good chunk of 2008 and 2009 doing. Getting back to where I was pre-Monster. I shed the pounds. I rediscovered way I loved running. And once I rediscovered that love, I knew what I had to do.

Tackle the half marathon again.

So I did. I picked Green Bay and circled the date on my calendar. Picked out a training plan, logged the miles and prepared myself for my final battle with The Monster. A battle that would show him what I'm made of. That he couldn't beat me, no matter how hard he tried.

And that's why I almost broke down and cried on Sunday when I stepped onto the warning track that goes around Lambeau Field. Because I made it. I was minutes away from crossing the finish line of half marathon number 2. And while it took me time, I got back to the person I was before The Monster showed up.

Take that.

I'm a stronger person now than I was before The Monster arrived. All of the struggles, the times I've just wanted to quit and sit down and cry. They've made me the person I am today. A person who knows the good things in life aren't necessarily easy, that sometimes it's hard to lace up the sneakers and go out for a run. A person who rediscovered why she loves going for a run. Someone who understands that all of the hard work, struggles and pain I've put in during training will all pay off when I cross that finish line.

As I crossed that finish line Sunday, I didn't just add another medal to my collection. While I didn't come in first among the 7,000 runners who started the race Sunday, I did beat The Monster. I won the battle.

And now I can close the book on the chapter of my life that's been devoted to The Monster. I've learned a lot from him, but it's time to move on.

A year can make quite a difference

The thought of 16 minutes, 42 seconds is still swirling around my head.

In a way, I almost still don't believe it. I mean that's a good chunk of time to shave off. That's almost a half-hour TV show without commercials. That's almost like finishing the triathlon without stepping foot in the water.

16 minutes, 42 seconds. It's a lot of time.

And it's the time that I shaved off this year. I almost can't believe it.

But then I stop to think. And it doesn't seem so unrealistic to me. Because I'm a different person than I was a year ago. I'm almost back to the person I was in late 2007.

When I stepped up to the starting line at the 2008 Chicagoland Danskin Triathlon, it was six months after I learned The Monster was living in my head. Six months after living through an entire month that I honestly don't remember much of. Six months of treatment. Six months of lost energy. Six months of watching my fitness go down the drain. Six months after stepping on the treadmill for the first time after learning about The Monster and struggling through and almost dying while "running" a mile.

But even with all of the obstacles I faced, I still put the time in at the gym and got myself ready for the triathlon. I swam. I biked. And I even ran. I got myself ready for race day, not to finish with a super speedy time, but just to finish. To prove to myself that The Monster would not win.

And I did it. I swam. I biked. I ran. I was vivacious, just like Sally Edwards told me I would be. I crossed that finish line and I admit, I was half dead. I didn't have an ounce of energy left. But I was proud of what I did. I proved to myself that I could still do it and The Monster would not win. And I made others proud. I could see it in my Mom's eyes, tears glistening in the corners. She admitted to a few weeks ago that at that time, when I crossed the finish line that day in July 2007, others probably thought I was one of the cancer survivors, because that's what I looked like.

I was a survivor. Not of the cancer variety. But of The Monster variety.

Fast forward to last weekend when I lined up for the same race.

A year later I have beaten The Monster. He's no longer living in my head and I no longer have to take the medicine to get him to go away. I'm back to running regularly without dying, and have even started to increase my mileages a bit. Still biking - at faster speeds - and still swimming. But now, instead of feeling completely drained everyday, I have energy.

I keep going. I want to keep going.

I feel good when I finish. Just like I felt good Sunday when I crossed the line. I finished strong and could have kept going. And this year? I didn't look the cancer survivor part either. I look like me. The Badgergirl that existed in the fall of 2007 before The Monster took up residence in my head.

When I think about all of that, it doesn't seem so unrealistic that I shaved 16 minutes, 42 seconds off my time from last year. Because even though I'm the same person, I'm a different person. I'm a Badgergirl without The Monster in my head.

Guess it goes to show you a year can make quite a difference.

I'd say today was a good day

It was a good day.

After working late last night, I got up early this morning for an appointment with the neurologist that's been treating me for the Monster in my head. And I'm happy to report that almost 16 months after the Monster reared his ugly head, I've gotten the all clear.

I've been done with the steroids since mid-October, my last MRI looked good, I haven't been having any major problems with my head aside from an occasional dull headache and apparently whenever I go see the doc she isn't noticing any problems. So I've got one more MRI in June and those results I'll get over the phone and unless something major happens, I don't need to go back to see the neurologist.

* Knock on wood *

After getting the good news from the neurologist I headed over to the YMCA and reintroduced myself to the treadmill. I got in a nice 3.25 mile run and it felt good. I followed that up with some time on the bike, just to remind my legs what riding a bike felt like.

Overall a pretty good day, especially considering that I have a 3-day weekend ahead of me. Three days to relax, watch some Badger basketball fit in an indoor triathlon and gear up for Selection Sunday. It's going to be a good three days.

Resolutions. Resolutions.

I hope everyone had a good New Year's. I spent mine celebrating with a good friend and a bunch of other folks in a bar downtown here in the City on the Water.

I'm ready to put 2008 behind me and move on. Because 2009? It's got to be better than last year. Don't get me wrong. 2008 wasn't an awful year, it was one of those in-between years. The whole Monster in my head? Although he technically appeared at the end of 2007, he was there during a good chunk of 2008 and when I did finally get him to leave, he left some baggage behind. So 2008? Not the greatest year. But not the best either.

But 2009? It's going to be good. I hope. And since 2009 is already over 14 hours old, I guess I better make some resolutions. Goals. Things to work towards. Some Monster related. Some not.

I give you, my resolutions for 2009:

• Be happy. Like I said 2008 wasn't my best year. I struggled. Maybe not outwardly, but inside I wasn't as happy as I normally am. Things bugged me. Monster related things. But this year? I left the Monster with the 2008 calendar when I threw it out. No more Monster. He won't get me down this year. Neither will the side effects he brought along. So this year I resolve to be happy. Happy with my job, my friends, my family and the life I'm living. The one I'm living without the Monster.
• The pesky weight. I know. I know. Everyone says it. I'm going to lose weight. But I am. Because when I finally was able to get the Monster to leave? He managed to leave behind some baggage. About 3o pounds worth. And this year? I'll be shedding that extra weight. Because even though the Monster thinks I want it, I don't.
• To regain my fitness. Before the Monster I was in the best shape I've ever been in my life. I had just run my first half marathon. I felt good and thought I looked good. Then the Monster came. Overstayed his welcome and took my fitness with him when he got booted out of my head. I struggled in 2008. Running became hard. A chore. It wasn't much fun. Yes, I biked more and started to swim. But in a way it was because I thought I had to just to combat the nasty side effects of the Monster. I want to change that. This year I want to start running again because I enjoy it. I want to swim and bike because I like to. And I want to cross the finish line of a half marathon again. And triathlon No. 2 is already penciled onto the calendar. In ink.
• Books. Yes. It's a resolution I have every year. But I'm aiming for 40 books again this year. But I might mix it up a bit this year. While compiling the list of what I read during 2008 I noticed that I spent my time reading a lot of newer stuff. This year I'm going to add some classics to the list. And while it might end up making me miss my goal of 40 books, I'd be OK with that. I'm starting out with one of those lengthy ones: Gone with the Wind, all 1,024 pages of it. This could take a while.
• Pick up a new hobby. Well maybe not new, but one that I've abandoned the past few years. I used to scrapbook. A lot. But then I moved to the City on the Water and my supplies went untouched. I want to pull out the papers and scissors and pictures again and start catching up on documenting the memories I've collected over the years.

That's it. Like I said, I know a lot of my resolutions have to due with the Monster. But he's played a big role in my life the last 14 months or so. And I'm at the point where I'm ready to be rid of him. I admit, I'm sure there will be times during the year where he makes a reappearance. And I guess he came come and visit. Briefly. There are no prolonged visits by the Monster allowed in 2009.

My Thanksgiving reflections center around that dang Monster

It's that time of year where we reflect and think about all of the things in our lives that we're thankful for.

I've spent some time thinking about what the last year has presented me with. Granted, the year didn't get off to a very good start last year, with the Monster invading my head right after Thanksgiving and leaving me curled up in a fetal position for a good chunk of December. And while there is a part of me that is terrified the Monster will appear on the one year anniversary of our meeting, I can't let myself dwell on it, because the Monster? He actually did teach me a few things and made me realize a few others.

What the Monster taught me:

That I'm thankful for the family and friends that I have. While curled in that fetal position, I received an amazing outpouring of love and support from those who I'm thankful to call my friends and family. And once the Monster was tamed? They didn't leave my side. They were still there, still supporting me in both my nearly yearlong recovery and in all of the other endeavors that I set out to do.

That I am a strong person and I can overcome the obstacles that life presents me with. And I'm thankful for that. If I didn't have the drive and determination to fight the Monster and put him in his place, I don't think I would have been able to pull through the whole ordeal. But I did. And I think I've showed the Monster who's boss. And it's not him. I'll continue to rely on that determination and drive as I finish off fighting the Monster and the nasty side effects he's left me with. And I will return to the person I was before he showed up.

Those are the two big things the Monster taught me. And they're lessons that I can apply to all areas of my life. If there's one thing that I like about the Monster, it's that he taught me those two things. Because those things - my family and friends and the drive and determination that I have inside me - are things that may have always been present in my life. But I may not have realized it. Or realized how important they were. And it took the Monster to make me see it. So thank you, Monster.

I'm hoping to become friends with the scale again

I admit. I have a love-hate relationship with the scale that sits in my bathroom. Most days we get along OK, but lately? Not so much.

Let me back up a bit.

It was four years ago. I stepped on the scale in the morning, still half asleep. But those three numbers that flashed before me woke me up quickly. There in a scary, blood-red color was my weight. Not too surprising since I was on a scale. What was different was that those three numbers were the highest I'd ever weighed in my life.

The highest.

Scary. Depressing. Motivating.

I made a decision that morning to change the numbers that were flashing before my eyes. I started watching what I ate, using Weight Watchers to count my points. I gave up regular soda, switching to Diet Coke. I tossed the snacks and cookies from my kitchen cupboards.

And I started hitting the YMCA on a very regular basis. I admit, when I first started going, running a half mile was tough. But I set the treadmill on a low speed and started putting one foot in front of the other. Gradually I worked up to running a full mile. Then a mile and a half. Then two. Eventually I was up to running three miles following it up with some time on the bike and then hitting the weights.

And all the sweat paid off. A little more than a year later I stepped back on the scale and I liked the number that was flashing before me. A number that was 50 pounds less. I felt good about myself.

I maintained that weight for almost three years.

But things took a turn for the worse when I got sick last winter. For starters, there was the Monster in my head. But the cure for the Monster? A nasty medicine. One of those that proudly list weight gain as a side effect. And even though I spent my spring and summer running, biking and swimming as I trained for a triathlon, I wasn't able to fight the weight gain. The number on the scale? It went up.

By 30 pounds.

And those scary, depressing feelings that flooded me that morning four years ago have returned. There's nothing left to show of all of the hard work I put in trying to lose the weight the first time.

I took my last dose of the nasty medicine on Friday - 10 months and two weeks after taking the first dose. I gave myself the weekend off, but starting tomorrow? I'm in Operation Lose Weight mode again.

I'll be watching what I eat, counting my points and hitting the gym again. To kick start my efforts, I've joined in with some other bloggers in a weight lose challenge, hopefully it'll give me the added motivation to get my butt back in gear and start shedding the pounds - because starting is sometimes the hardest part.

I'm not aiming to look like a supermodel. I just want to get back to the point where the number on the scale gets back to what it was in December, a weight I was comfortable at. I'm hoping I can get back to that number by late spring, maybe April. I figure 30 pounds in 5 and a half months sounds doable, doesn't it?

I know it will be hard. And honestly, sometimes I worry that I won't be able to do it. But I'm going to try. Because I don't like the way I look at the moment. And I don't like it that I have a closet full of cute clothes that I'm unable to wear right now. And I don't like it that it's so much harder to run right now, carrying around an extra 30 pounds.

So tomorrow I start. A healthy lunch and a packed gym bag will be ready for me when I walk out the door at 5:50 tomorrow morning. Since I'm only working until 3 p.m., I have no excuses. I will go to the YMCA if it kills me. A little treadmill time followed by some time on the bike. And I might even venture over into the weight area.

Wish me luck.

Sorry, there's no room at the inn for the Monster

I wasn't really in the mood for a visitor, but he decided to come anyway. And I'm not happy to see him.

The Monster in my head.

I've been battling the Monster since Monday. The first day and a half, he was tolerable. I'd pop some Tylenol and he's kind of go away. Still there, but I could function. Yesterday? He became an unwanted head-guest. The kind that doesn't listen to directions. No amount of Tylenol could get him to leave. Always there. Right. Above. My. Eye. Painful. Annoying.

I drugged myself up with Vicodin when I went to sleep last night. It still hurt, but I was able to fall asleep. And I stayed asleep until my alarm started buzzing this morning. When I opened my eyes? I wasn't happy.

The Monster was still there. And he was worse.

Luckily, I could stay in a bed a bit longer than usual this morning since I didn't have to be in court until 9 a.m. I pushed it until the last possible minute, thinking maybe the Monster would go away.

He didn't.

So I got ready and went to work. And I struggled. I felt funny. Dizzy. Nauseous. Throbbing. Disconnected.

Scared.

I haven't had a headache like this since last year when the Monster really overstayed his welcome. The month I was so sick I barely remember the month of December. All I vaguely remember is that it was a month full of headaches, tests, needles and hospitals.

I don't think the Monster's visit is anything like last year. In fact, I just had an MRI on my brain and the neurologist told my my head looks very good and my brain is stable. I'm crossing my fingers the Monster's nasty visit this time is just due to the weather changing, or the stress I've had at work this week. Or maybe it's due to weening myself off the steroids I've been on for 10 months to cure myself from last year's visit by the Monster.

Whatever it is, the Monster's still here a bit tonight. So now I'm off to go drug myself up again and fall asleep.

And hopefully when I wake up tomorrow the Monster will be gone. Because at this point? He's definitely overstayed his welcome.

I can understand a few strands going missing, but it was getting ridiculous

When it comes to shampoo and conditioner, I'm not an expensive shampoo kind of girl.

Rather than spending a ton of money on the pricey stuff, I'd rather go to Target, walk down the aisle and take my pick. Herbal Essence, Pantene Pro-V, Garnier Fructis. Heck, every so often I might even buy some of the Suave knockoffs.

In other words, I don't spend a lot. Maybe $4 a bottle. A bit more if I buy the big, long-lasting bottle. Never do I spend $35.60 for a bottle of shampoo and condition.

Until yesterday that is.

Yes. I paid $35.60 for a bottle of shampoo and conditioner. Any other day I'd walk away and find my way to Target and my old standbys. But yesterday was different. Because I hope that $35.60 is worth it.

See I have a problem. For the past few months, I've been losing my hair. Scary. It's one of the nasty side effects of the medicine that I've been on as a result of that time when I almost died because of the Monster in my head.

And when I say losing my hair, I mean actually losing it. Not just a few strands here and there. But for a while, it was decent sized clumps. I used to have nice, thick hair. Now it's scraggly looking. And if I'm wearing it down and am not careful, you can see my scalp at the top of my head. Eek! Needless to say, I've been wearing a lot of scraggly looking ponytails lately.

I'm not bald. Yet. In fact, I'm far from it. But my hair isn't as nice as it was just a matter of 7 months ago. And since I'm almost off of that nasty medicine, I want to start working on growing my hair back. Regaining the thickness I used to have. Not have to worry about wearing it down and have to worry about if it looks scraggly or if you can see my scalp.

The other day I went to get a trim, just to get rid of the really nasty ends and get it all one length so that it doesn't look quite as scraggly. I told the hairstylist about my problems and asked her if she had any suggestions. If she knew anything that would make my hair grow back quicker.

Nioxin.

I've heard of a couple of other women who have used this stuff. They've had cancer and have undergone chemo and probably lost a lot more hair than I have. But they've apparently had good results, seeing their hair start to grow back within a matter of weeks.

So I forked over $35.60 and bought some. And this morning I started using it. Hopefully it works and is worth the money I paid. I know it'll take a bit of time before my hair gets back to normal. But I'll try it. Because it's no fun losing your hair, especially when you're 28 years old.

The monster wasn't grumbling about the bike

Normally I'm not one to complain about weather. I understand living in Wisconsin summer is short, so I should enjoy it while it's here.

And most of the time I can handle the weather. But the combination of high temperatures and humidity? Not so fun. It's uncomfortable. And I just have a little tiny window air conditioning unit that kinda of works (hey, I got spoiled with the central air conditioning at my parents' house growing up).

But my biggest problem? The monster that tends to take up residence in my head? He really doesn't like the heat and humidity combination. And then he gets a little angry and cranky. And the head starts to hurt. And that's not good.

So the last few days I've been dealing with a bit of a headache on and off. But I've managed. Since it was nasty outside yesterday, what with the rain and the mugginess, I opted for the YMCA where I hit the treadmill, pounded out 2.5 miles and sweat so much it felt like someone poured a bucket of water over me. Of course, it didn't feel so bad when I jumped in the pool for a quick swim.

But by the time I left work today, the humidity had broken a bit. So I hopped on my bike, pressed play on my iPod and listened to some John Mayer as I pedaled for 12 miles. It was a good ride. I enjoyed it, except for the 5 minutes I spent waiting for a train to go through. The only bad part? Towards the very end, the monster in my head started getting a bit cranky, probably due to the weather and the fact that I should have drank a bit more water.

He's calming down now. Just an occasional grumble. And if he doesn't disappear in a few hours, I'll just remember to drug myself up before going to sleep. That'll teach him a lesson.

And besides, it was too nice, minus the lingering humidity, to skip an opportunity for a good bike ride.

The monster? He doesn't really like heat and humidity.

I don't want to be that girl that complains about the summer weather. I know summer is short. And I know that with summer comes heat and humidity. And most of the time I can handle it.

But today's the first day I've really had to deal with that kind of weather this year. And my head? It's not agreeing. You see, the nasty headaches I get? The migraines? They don't really like the heat and humidity. Wait. Let me rephrase that. They don't like it when I have to do a lot stuff in the heat and humidity. They'd prefer I stayed indoors and kept the activity low.

So my head wasn't too thrilled when I got sent out on an assignment this afternoon in the middle of the blazing sun, high temperatures and humidity. Since then, I've been battling a headache. It kind of subsided when I went swimming, but since I've been home, it's gotten worse.

I've tried Tylenol. That hasn't really helped. So I have a feeling tonight will be a dose of the air conditioner and some Vicodin. But right now? I think an episode of Lost is in order.

The painkiller didn't touch it

Vicodin.

The good news is it kind of knocked out the monster headache I gave myself after crying for two hours last night.

And even though it took a little over an hour to kick it, it did eventually drug me up enough to put me to sleep last night. Granted it was restless sleep, but without the Vicodin, I would have been laying in bed, with a nasty headache and staring at the ceiling. Wide awake.

But Vicodin's not the cure all drug.

Because that powerful painkiller? It didn't even touch the pain I'm feeling from a broken heart.

In time, I might be able to talk about it. But right now, it hurts. And makes me want to cry.

That isn't a pretty number

I will be the first to admit, the scale and I? We haven't always gotten along.

But for the past two years? It's been a decent relationship. It's one we've formed through sweat and tears. Namely, the year I spent in the gym and watching what I ate. And it paid off for me. As I dropped 50 pounds.

It was hard work and there were times I was frustrated. But I kept on working. And after a year, I was proud of myself. I was at a weight I felt comfortable at and I managed to maintain it. Yes, the number on the scale would vary by a pound or two. But I was always right at that magic number. And yes, there were days when I just wanted to lose those last five pounds. But I was OK if they didn't disappear. I felt good about myself.

Like I said, the scale and I? We were getting along.

Note the key word: Were.

The scale and I haven't been as friendly the last month. It's beginning to be a relationship that's a bit strained. As in, the number? It's been creeping up. And I'm not happy.

The worst part about it? It doesn't have to do with my eating habits. Rather I think it's due to a combination of the medicine I'm taking, the fact that winter is never ending and the difficulties I've had re-establishing the willpower to get back to the gym after being really, really sick.

For starters, the steroid I'm taking? What's one of the side effects? Weight gain. But I also admit, it's been hard for me to get back into the habit of going to the gym multiple times a week, especially after I was so sick in December, the month I barely remember. And everybody knows it's inevitable that you put on an extra pound or two during the winter.

So it's like I'm dealing with a triple whammy. Not fun. And that's why the scale and I aren't on the best of terms at the moment.

People say it doesn't really look like I've gained any weight. But there's a part of me that feels like I have. And while it isn't a lot, it still doesn't make me feel good about myself. I mean, I worked so hard to shed it before and I don't want to see all that effort wasted just because of a medication I'm on that's supposed to be fixing my head.

So this morning, after I had my daily dose of disappointment from the scale, I made a decision. Starting tomorrow I will get back to the YMCA at least three times a week. And I'm going to start making a good effort to watch what I eat again. Because these extra seven or eight pounds that I've put on? They've got to go.

Doc, can you wait a second before you do that test?

I hate insurance companies.

Especially the ones that ruin my day off because they make me cry. All over decisions that I'm apparently supposed to be able to make even though my head was throbbing like there was jackhammer going off inside it.

And all of the stress and crying I dealt with today while fighting with the insurance company? Yeah, it gave me a nasty headache. One of those things I'm supposed to be getting better from. But today I had one. And I was wishing for a dose of painkillers, which I didn't have with me at that moment. So instead I drugged myself up with Tylenol and crossed my fingers the pain would go away.

Overall? Not a good day.

I'm going to have nightmares about physical therapy

Excuse me while I whine momentarily.

Physical therapy? It sucks. And it hurts.

As part of the throbbing head debacle that I've been dealing with for the past month, I started going to see a chiropractor, who wanted to me to start seeing the physical therapist in his office as well. Because apparently my posture isn't the best and it could be playing a slight role in my throbbing head.

I figured, why not. Anything to get rid of this throbbing. Because throbbing? It's not so much fun. So I went to the therapist. And at first it wasn't so bad. It was just stretching stuff with my neck and upper back area. I figured I could handle it.

But the therapy sessions haven't gotten harder. Much harder.

I've graduated on to crazy stuff involving resistance bands, some kind of crazy head contraption and weights. I mean seriously, sometimes the therapist is making me do stuff that I don't even think is possible. Because your arms? Mine don't move in the directions that my therapist wants them to move in. And today? After I spent an hour going through the exercises, stretches and strength-building stuff, my back is in pain! It aches so much sitting in my desk chair all day has been uncomfortable.

I know. I know. I'm a baby. Therapy is supposed to hurt. Because it's supposed to make you feel better. And maybe, just maybe, if I followed through and did perform all of my stretches I'm supposed to be doing three times a day, maybe it wouldn't hurt so much.

But still. Physical therapy? It's painful man.

Lucky for me, I scheduled my last appointment with the therapist today. And what's in store for me that day? Apparently it's the final session in order to "finalize" my at-home regiment. Fun.

I've been poked and prodded, but this? It's uncomfortable

I've had to do a lot of things in order to help solve the throbbing in my head. And I'm not even thinking about the insane number of high powered drugs that have been pumped into my body (and therefore wrecking havoc with my monthly visitor).

I've been stuck with way too many needles so my blood could be drawn. There were MRIs and CT scans. And don't forget the day when a doctor stuck needles in my my spine in order to collect spinal fluid. Needless to say, it's been a bit painful.

By far, the most painless treatments so far have been my visits to the chiropractor. But he's also got me seeing a physical therapist who works at his office. And mostly the therapist has me doing a bunch of stretching stuff in an attempt to help build up my muscles in my neck and shoulder area. Because apparently I don't have the best posture. Today I had to work with some resistance bands, and although I'm a bit sore, it didn't hurt.

But then the therapist decided on another form of treatment. And this one? It's a bit uncomfortable at times. Because I've been taped. Yes, there is tape running from my collar bone up and over my shoulders to midway down my back. It's supposed to help with my posture. Like when I start slouching it becomes uncomfortable. Luckily I don't slouch too much. It's just the tape? It's a bit uncomfortable. And it itches. And it's warm.

But I have to keep wearing it. After a couple of days and a few showers, the tape will start to come off by itself. Then I can just have The Coach rip it off. And I can be tapeless.

A quick update

My blog is feeling neglected again. And it's still due to the throbbing in my head. But since today is one of the better days I've had lately, I thought a quick update, in bullet form, was called for.

• The bad news is the throbbing migraines in my head are still causing me problems. The good news? My doctors think they know what the problem is. I still have to undergo one more test on Friday, but hopefully after that, the doctors will make a diagnosis and I can start down the path towards getting better. Apparently treatment for what the doctors think I have involves a hefty dose of steroids for a couple of months. But at least it's a chance to feel better again.
• I'm amazed at the amount of care and concern I've gotten from family, friends and co-workers. It's something I've expected from my friends and family. But I never thought this would be the reaction I got from some of my co-workers. It makes me feel good and appreciate the people I work with and the place I spend my days.
• And speaking of people who are concerned. The Coach has been amazing. I've given him the chance to run away. Because seriously, who would want to deal with something like this? But he refuses to leave. And instead on the nights when I'm curled in a fetal position because it hurts so bad, he's been by my side. Letting me fall asleep and making sure I'm OK. All because he's concerned and wants me to feel better.
• I did have one good night last weekend. And I took advantage of it, going to a holiday gathering hosted by one of my friends. And The Coach came along with me, meeting most of my friends here in The City on the Water. And he did a good job.
• It's December 12 and I haven't even started my Christmas shopping. I've been too busy dealing with a throbbing head. Looks like this could be one of those Christmas seasons where I do all of my shopping at the last minute.
• Since the head throbbing began, I think I've been averaging 16 hours of sleep a day. And I'm still tired.
• Remember my fantasy football team? The team that was so awful at the beginning of the season? Well Crime & Grime is now a force to be reckoned with in my league. After starting the season 1-7, my team went 4-1 and qualified for the playoffs. And then? The Criminals knocked off the No. 1 ranked team in our league. The rest of the teams in my league should be scared of my Criminals.

I wanted to kill the monster in my head, but I didn't have the energy

It's been so long I don't even know what day of the week it is much less what day of the month it is.

But I have a good reason for my disappearance.

For the last two weeks, I've been curled up in a fetal position. My head has been throbbing. And we're not just talking a dull pain, but a throbbing so bad it felt like it was a pair of knives being stabbed in and out of my head. Pain where it might have been less painful to chop my head off than deal with the migraine that pestered me for SEVEN DAYS!

Yes, I've been dealing with a migraine for seven days. I've never had a migraine last seven days before. They usually leave after two days. But this one? It was seven days.

I stayed home from work the entire time and made four different visits to my doctor's office in hopes of getting rid of the migraine. Two different blood draws and four different shots to the lower back area still left me with a migraine so Friday night I headed over to the emergency room, where I got more medicine via an IV and also had to have scans done of my head, because remember, the migraine that had been bothering me for seven days?

I still didn't go to work today, but the throbbing has subsided. Instead I've been dealing with a very, very sore lower back, because some neurosurgeon decided I needed to have fluid drawn, FROM MY SPINAL CORD! OUCH! And yes, it did hurt.

But hopefully I'm on my way to figuring out why I was left throwing up and curled up in a fetal position for over a week. At the same time, hopefully I'll also be able to return to my blog, because even though I didn't think in coherent sentences too often the last two weeks, I did miss blogging.