day 169: partial tear and software

So, it’s come to this: I suffer a partial tear of my posterior tibial tendon. What I dismissed as a nasty scrape of the shins reared its ugly head in a mottled bruise along my navicular bone and insistant swelling below my medial malleolus. This tendon, along with its muscley partner in crime named (intelligently) the posterior tibial muscle, is a vital support maintaining the arch of my foot.

Pffffffffft…don’t cry for me Argentina! I will come back better and stronger and fitter than ever! I may require surgery, I may require extra work just to get back what I will lose, but gosh darn it I’ll live to squat heavy and jump high again.

Now I just need patience. My highest priority is to heal well and economically.

Within this same topic of health, I will concentrate my efforts on the following:

• strict pullups
• handstand pushups
• handstands
• toes to bar
• the strength of Carl Paoli
• the technique of Carl Paoli
• the hip mobility of Diane Fu
• the ankle mobility of Diane Fu
• the badassery of a supple leopard
• hip thrusts, perhaps (gotta do what I can for my posterior chainnnnnnnnn; flat as a surfboard is weaksauce)

Injury is gross. Mobilize your calves, friends. And pay attention when you jump.

My studying is beginning. Great.

I attempted to draw a concept map last night with good old paper and pencil but my notebook was too small and my writing to large to harmonize in ratio for all the concepts and propositions required by an overview of epithileal tissue. Thus, I invested a few hours in finding an appropriate software platform that is functional and pretty. I found both in yEd. Try it! Perhaps one day I’ll be rolling in $$$ and will purchase a license for yWorks; now, the free version is just what I need. I can make nested trees! I am so seriously excited. So so excited. It’s basically going to look like LittleBigPlanet but with SCIENCE. 

Prepare for mind explosions.

Back to the tear: I am pasting a grin on my face whenever I think about it. “Happy thoughts = happy tendons,” as I said to my dad. Happy thoughts = flying, too; just ask Peter Pan.  (Then check with Tink because Peter doesn’t have a good track record with math…always forgetting that pixie dust.) Hindsight is 20/20, but regret: stymie it. I’d be better off carring coals to Newcastle.

ttylxox you healthy-tendoned gems,

KT

out

day 168: ducks in a row

Research: check
Classes: check
Desk: check

All my ducks are in a row…now it’s up to me.

The wounded surgeon plies the steel
That questions the distempered part;
Beneath the bleeding hands we feel
The sharp compassion of the healer’s art
Resolving the enigma of the fever chart.
– T.S. Eliot, from East Coker

KT
out

day 167: little brother (little sister)

“Father’s Day” is, fittingly, “family day” in the S household. My dad has taught us that family is composed of those whom you love most fiercely, those for whom you care most deeply, and those with whom you laugh most freely. His lessons are truer than the tinny sound of “blood is thicker than water;” they command more integrity than untenable snivels for attention and shouts of “obligation!”. He bestows his wisdoms upon us through his consistent example of unfailing reason and unwavering joy.

As I expect he preferred, we spent yesterday together in true family style.

After the requisite brunch and a bit of pool time, la’M and I whiled away a few hours looking at extra-long twin bedding for her fast-approaching freshman fall semester in the wild hills of our great state. I will sorely miss that pretty, silly girl.

What began as a relationship fraught with jealousy and cheek bites (yes she almost bit my cheek off) has bloomed into one of mutually passionate professions of love (orange for kt.)

Also I spoke with the Tank aka little brother. Tank is thirteen going on the terrible twos. Most of the time, anyway. Especially when it comes to taking a shower (therein might lie a family resemblance…) However probably once a day, in a small moment, he’s thirteen going on three hundred: that is, he displays a depth of wisdom and compassion you’d expect from one so old. Then I realize…

Tank is thirteen. He’s supposed to be a pain sometimes. Growing up is hard work.

I didn’t get to see my big brother. But I love being his little sister. He’s the best.

I’m blessed to be a sister, little and big. Thanks mom and dad.

(Thanks be to God.)

KT

out

day 166: the best kind of daddy

is mine.

He has the biggest laugh and the truest smile.

And he knows exactly how to get mine out of me.

I’m definitely the luckiest duck.

KT
out

day 165: jiro dreams of sushi

I will be a shokunin of life.

With his help.

And hers.

The Japanese apprentice is taught that shokunin means not only having technical skill, but also implies an attitude and social consciousness. [...] The shokunin demonstrates knowledge of tools and skill with them, the ability to create beauty and the capacity to work with incredible speed. The value of an object is dependent on a subtle combination of skill and speed [...] In short, the pride of the shokunin is the simultaneous achievement of skill and speed. One without the other is not shokunin.

KT
out

day 164: record results

Yesterday, I recorded the minutes of my workday and what I put into it. I intended to carry it into the evening but did not; perhaps I was tired of my own judgement. However, it is vital that I replicate this practice for my “free-time.”

The results for work are as follows:

0400-0430: morning routine
0430-0500: transit to work
0500-0515: social media :/
0515-0545: eat breakfast, research on deliberate practice
0545-0630: program, work, read on deliberate practice
0630-0700: patient registration for doctor, googled “how to get a good squat” which devolved into other web-surfing; poo
0700-0800: surprise breakfast with A!
0800-0815: spoke with the bossman
0815-0825: spoke with papa
0825-0915: work/read
0915-0920: pee :)
0920-0950: work, spoke with brian
0950-1000: tea, read an article on otzi the iceman’s tissue and proteins found therein, check weather
1000-1020: work
1020-1030: poo
1030-1100: work
1100-1200: pick up table and chairs which will need a little more work than expected, drive with A, listen to country
1200-1210: facebook, paleomg, blog stats
1235-1240: tea :)
1240-1300: work, read
1300-1310: pee :) email
1310-1400: work
1400-1445: read about root canals, freak out
1445-1500: work
1500-1515: poo, goof off on interwebz,eat
1515-1600: work
1600-1630: look out the window

Facts garnered from the day:

1. I poo a lot.
   a. generally after drinking coffee or tea…I will not give up my dairy that easily #shakesfist #futiley
2. I only actually worked 305 minutes, or approximately 5 hours, out of the 11.5 hours I was -at- work.
3. I don’t use my “wasting” time wisely; the minutes (which turn into hours) I spend goofing off would be better spent
   a. working
   b. studying

Furthermore, I realize this is most likely typical of a -really good- day in the sense that I conciously did not waste as much time as I normally would. Being accountable to myself and to God’s vision of me (no, not my vision of whom I should be, uninformed by God) forces me to undertake the arduous task of life, true life; holding myself to the highest standard is my duty, for I am a being who has received the terrifying gift of free will and inherited as duals Original Sin and the saving grace of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Whew got a little holy there.

On to being excellent

Excellence is mundane. Superlative performance is really a confluence of dozens of small skills or activites, each one learned or stumbled upon, which have been carefully drilled into habit and then are fitted together in a synthesized whole. There is nothing extraordinary or super-human in any one of those actions; only the fact that they are done consistently and correctly, and all together, produce excellence.
– Daniel F. Chambliss, The Mundanity of Excellence: An Ethnographic Report on Stratification and Olympic Swimmers

KT

out

day 163: pain and panic

my poor, dear husband suffers immense physical pain right now.

The Pain
Like the human brain, which organizes
The swirls and shades of the bathroom tiles
Into faces, faces
With expressions
Of exhaustion, of disdain. The
Virgin Mary in the toast of course
But also the penance in the pain, and the way
My mother invented
Plums and tissue paper, while
My father invented the type of
Sudden kindness
That takes you by surprise
When you’ve expected to be chastised
And makes you cry
– Laura Kasischke