The Finish Line is in Sight

As of right now, I am as far with my thesis as I can be.  The formatting is corrected per my meeting yesterday.  The revisions and edits are applied per my committee chair's comments.  I have yet to hear from my 2nd reader, but I understand all of us writing theses in the program turned them in to him within a couple days.

But I'm almost done.  Barring any major further edits from my 2nd reader, my thesis is ready for my defense.  Then I defend.  Then I do any last edits.  Then I turn in a boatload of paperwork to the graduate school.  Then I'm done.  Then I graduate.  Then we move.

Ahhhh!!! So close!

This has been my major focus the last couple of weeks.  My weight loss has suffered thanks to cookies and milk while working, but it could be worse.

Chris is officially lighter than me.  It got a bit worse.  I mean, I don't begrudge him.  I'm glad he's kept to it better than I have lately, but I started it.  I'm supposed to be just a bit ahead of him at all times.  :(

Oh, well.  I'll catch up.

Challenge accepted.

After my defense on March 4.

If Balance is the Key, I'm Locked Out

I've never had great balance, but this is ridiculous.

You know that feeling when you spin around with your forehead on a baseball bat to do that silly relay race?  Yeah, I know what that feels like.  All day.

Early Sunday morning I sat up in my sleep to roll over, then promptly fell back to my pillow like a stone.  It was like my body was already back down and just needed to catch up with itself.  I could do nothing.

I lay there thinking, "Well, that's different."

I waited a few moments, then tried to roll over without sitting up.  Activity not available.  I was stuck.  The room spun.

Okay, back to sleep where I was.

I dreamed that the reason I couldn't move was because some magical items needed to be finished being made on a magical loom.  When they were done, I could move.

I woke up before they were done, thanks to my silly alarm.  So therefore I've been cursed with vertigo ever since, and I don't mean the Hitchcock movie.

I was able to sit up, but the room started whirling a little.  I stood up, and it whirled a bit more. I needed to get ready for church, but Chris was still asleep.  I was afraid of falling in the shower and getting hurt, so I nudged him awake.

"I'm experiencing the weirdest dizziness of my life.  If you hear a thump in the bathroom, please don't ignore it."  He sleepily said okay.

I made it, barely.  While bending over the sink to brush my teeth I realized I'd fall head-first into the faucet.  That could be a major problem with how heavy I'd felt every time I'd fallen so far.  Luckily I didn't fall again.

We made it to church, and I only had to sit once during a hymn and stuck it out for the rest.  Turning my head to the right was a very bad idea indeed, so I kept my head slightly to the left.

We went to lunch as usual, and when I signed the check I slowly leaned further to the right, but I was determined to finish my signature before the room spun and I fell to the table.  I finished it and caught myself in time, although Chase (our regular server) was rather confused as to why I was falling over.

At home I spent the afternoon on the couch, lying down at first.  I did help Chris sort the laundry into the proper piles by telling him "lights, colors, darks" as needed while I rested my head on the left side.  Then I did some work on my thesis before my head began to spin again.  Then I helped Chris through more Lego Lord of the Rings on the Wii since I'd gotten farther than him lately.

When I did get up to move our roast from the freezer to the fridge so it could thaw, I was waiting for Chris to get his stuff moved in the fridge and nearly dropped the 3.5 lb frozen roast onto the floor.  (I don't know if you've ever held a 3.5 lb frozen roast before, but it is rather a bad idea to drop it anywhere.  Setting it down is preferable.)  I said, "I'm going to put this on the counter and put myself on the couch so I don't drop it."  I slowly went to the couch and slid into it to lie down for a while.

After that the vertigo seemed to subside mostly.  We tried a few exercises before bed to help my balance-bones or whatever stabilize properly.  I did a half-somersault exercise that's suppose to rattle the balance stuff back into place.  I can do it on my own, which is nice, but it only helped a little.  Then Chris tried to move my head and stretch my neck to get things back in place.  It seemed to help until right before laying down.  I sat up and promptly fell to my pillow.

Then we did our normal routine of reading before sleep, and I lay on my left side.  My neck was sore, so I started to slowly move to my back and slightly to the right.  Since the vertigo had lessened again, I thought it would be okay.  Then the page spun.  Bad idea.  Back to the left.

Through the night I was able to lie on my right sometimes without swimming.  Now I can sit and stand with only a bit of wooziness.  I haven't fallen again, but thankfully every time I have (so far) has been in bed or on the couch and not to the floor.

I hope it goes away fully by tomorrow morning, otherwise Chris will have to drive me to work.  That means he'll have to get up (*gasp*) a whole hour before normal!  8:00!  Sometimes I envy his evening work hours and therefore quiet, lazy mornings.  Then I remember he's a server at a restaurant and I get to scan things, and I no longer envy him.  I much prefer my job for myself.

On the upside, I've been having pretty good hair days lately.  Here's some evidence:

Here's to holding on and finding the key to staying upright!

Ups and Downs in the Snow

I've never been much of one with balance and coordination.  I did ballet as a child, but after about 3 years I gave it up for soccer.  I was a decent full-back, especially after I stopped crying when I got hit with the ball.  (Such a revelation the day I got hit, it hurt, but I chalked it up as a war wound.  No crying after that!  No fear!)

A little over a week ago we went to Montana to see my in-laws and ski at Bridger Bowl.  Chris's brother moved to Missoula a while ago.  He loves it there!  He skis and mountain climbs and all sorts of outdoorsy stuff that I find fascinating and enchanting, but I'm not terribly interested in doing it myself.  I'd rather sit in a beautiful library looking at perfectly old books.  Still, nature is beautiful and old and new all at the same time, so I enjoy his love for it.

It started snowing our first day, which was warm in the upper 20s to low 30s compared the the next two days of anywhere from 10 to -7 or so where I was at the base.  The farther up, the colder it got.  Chris go beardcicles from breathing under his gear.

Chris and Stephen all bundled up

The moisture from breathing caused beardcicles!  (Just breathing, no runny nose.)

This is after coming inside from a couple runs up and down the mountain 

while I sipped hot chocolate and bonded with the parent-in-laws.

When we first arrived, I wondered what this white stuff was that was cold and sparkly and powdery.  I felt like I'd seen it before a few years ago, but I wasn't sure.  Was this snow?  Was it real snow?  Our area of Texas had a white Christmas with a few tiny flakes falling for 5 minutes, flakes that melted after it hit the car driving home from seeing Les Mis.  These flakes in Montana did not melt.  At all.  They collected and built up quite a presence.

This was taken the second morning of our rental.  All this was just overnight.

Before I mentioned that I went skiing once before when I was 13 and cried.  Two things about that: 1) It was my goal this trip not to cry, and 2) a hill in IL covered in snow is not the same thing as a mountain in Montana.  That youth group trip doesn't count anymore.

One of the lodges with a mountain in the background.

So, in the spirit of being candid, as I try to always be on this blog, I will tell you the main reason why I nearly cried during the Montana trip. The first was the worst and was what started the crying at 13.

Ski boots.

They are horrible, terrible, and cruel devices of torture.  Especially for someone with relatively small feet compared to the size of her calves.  I have wide legs for sure, which is a problem when most people don't and the boots are meant to fit all female size 8.5 shoe wearers.  Even moving the clamps to the biggest size still cut off some circulation, and even to get to that point both Stephen (my brother-in-law) and Chris had to force down the clamps with quite a bit of strength.

The second morning, after wearing the extremely tight boots all day the day before, I asked my ski-wise brother-in-law an important question.  "I know that bruises on the shins are normal, but should one have bruising all the way around the legs?"  He looked at me with raised brows.  "No."

Great.  Back to the ski shop for new boots.  Trying about four different pairs.  The last went up a shoe size and felt much better.  They were a bit looser in the foot than desired, but at least I could feel my legs despite the previous day's bruising.

I'm in the periwinkle coat and Chris is the dark coat behind me.

I enjoyed this bunny hill, but it was just too short.

So, I have very little balance as stated above.  So I stuck to the bunny hill most of the time.  Except twice.  Once the second day I went on the next step up from the bunny hill and most of it ended up fine.  Chris, who took to skiing quite well, helped lead me down the easiest path bit by bit.  Stephen and my father-in-law stuck close as well.  (Father-in-law was also new to skiing, got frustrated, but ended up being braver than I and did much more on the real runs than I even dreamed of doing myself.)

That hill is when I had my epic fall.  Snow flung all around me, skis popped off, poles spread about, and me several feet farther down the hill than my gear.  It was spectacular.  As soon as I fell and the skis popped off, I knew I'd be fine.  The hill was steep, but not terribly so.  I went with it and enjoyed the ride.  As soon as I stopped, I shouted that I was okay, especially since husband and in-laws were coming up behind me and I didn't want them to worry.  No bruising from that or sprains or anything.  I lifted my arms in triumph of my epicness, and someone on a nearby ski lift raised his and shouted, "Awesome!"  It made my day.

Me and Stephen

What wasn't so fun, but rather epic itself, was the end of the first day.  Stephen, bless his heart, had way more confidence in me than was warranted.  He took us to a hill that was far too steep for me to keep control, my legs were exhausted from their first day of use, and I ended up falling several times at the beginning of the run.  I walked down part of it, carrying skis and poles, sat down several times, walked some more, and finally gave up.  Stephen skied to the bottom and got ski patrol.  I had my first ride on a snowmobile!  It was fun, and the guy was very nice about it.  I could hardly get on the snowmobile because my legs were so tired, but Chris helped swing me up and I made it to the bottom.  The ski patrol guy said it was the right decision with how tired and inexperienced I was.  I was glad he didn't think I was dumb or something.  I decided to stick mostly to the fun of the bunny hill after that.

So that was most of the interesting stuff for me.

Some might be wondering, "But didn't you go with your in-laws?  Was your mother-in-law there?  You haven't mentioned her."

First off, almost all of the photos are from her.  Secondly, she had a grand time doing her thing, which I found pretty cool.

She needed adapted skiing because of a health issue she's been dealing with for years that makes walking extremely difficult.  Often while on trips, I've seen her use her wheelchair.  At home she uses a walker.

Getting gear out of the rental.

So, you'd think skiing would be impossible for her. Wrong!  Bridger Bowl also has an adapted skiing group called Eagle Mount that helps people who need them to be able to ski.

They put her in a bi-ski, they controlled the speed and she controlled the direction.

The guys helping her get strapped into the bi-ski.  The bottom of it 

has two skis and the sides have "training skis" to help keep her upright.

She had guys with her the whole time making sure she could ski properly.  She went down a blue run even (one step higher than I would've even attempted) and had a blast.  Stephen spent some time with her taking photos and video.

She earned the nickname "daredevil mama" from a friend.  It's pretty accurate.

The cool thing was that most of these guys, from my understanding, are volunteers!  They volunteer to take people out to experience skiing when they wouldn't be able to otherwise.  That's fantastic, and it surely lifts my hopes for humanity.  She had a blast, even with one crash.  Stephen says you're not a real skier until you've fallen.

So that's our ski trip.  It was fun, and tiring, and exhausting, and exhilarating, and challenging, and exhausting.

Chris and me thawing out in the lodge with hot chocolate

See the ear warmer I'm wearing?  I made it the day before we left.  

Worked fairly well, even if it stretched slightly too big by the end.  

Goggles helped keep it on.

The day I made the ear warmer, trying it on.

Stephen, Father-in-Law, Chris, Me