In which Ness gets busy again

As if I ever stopped? My goodness!

No, I have signed up for a correspondence course through Athabasca University for the fall term. The simple facts are that none of the fall courses even came close to fitting into my schedule, and Athabasca was offered up to me by the undergrad advisor as a viable alternative. I leapt. Come September, I will be fervently studying Canadian Drama. It has a video component. I am thrilled!

Winter is still up in the air, but I can't actually apply before Monday, so I'm going to take some time this weekend to work out which courses might work for me, and email the professors to see about their permissions.

Physio proves to be interesting. My God, the muscles they're having me work are weak! Weak, weak, weak, weak, weak... I also shocked myself by not freaking out when the physiotherapist did acupuncture on my arms, and pushed the needles in my elbows in about three centimetres. I freaked out the next day with my annual blood test, so I suppose it evens out. I'm also a little disturbed by how not flexible my nerves are. Ten reps of the "neural flossing" stretch is enough to send tingles and numbness through my hands. Pick an arm on any given day; the one that's worse seems to switch about that often.

Fencing tonight has me bringing my epees and sabre so the beginners can play with them. *cries*

Thirteen days until take-off for Denmark. I shall be working Saturday to try and get caught up enough that I can leave knowing I did everything I could.

Two more months, I believe, and Mike is officially my husband, if only commonlaw. Where did four months go? Can I have them back? I'd like to savour them, every second.

And when I get a moment, I'm going to redesign this damn blog, 'cause I can't figure out why the post is popping down below the image. Damnit! :)

Getting on with my nerves

Monday was my first physio appointment regarding my hand troubles. After being variously stretched in all kinds of fun and interesting directions, the physiotherapist told me that, in both arms but more so on the left, the flexibility of my nerves is atrocious. Nerves, he said, are not like muscles. They are not particularly interested in being stretched. In fact, stretch them too much, and you will pay (and pay and pay). They really don't like it. But if I can walk the fine line between just enough and too much, then sensation will return to my hands, and I will start getting better.

So, after two visits, I have one stretch, four exercises, and have been alternately taped into proper shoulder position, which was more and more painful the longer I sat in my (soon to be replaced, hopefully) evil office chair, and had six pins stuck into my arms (considering my needle phobia, I'm surprised I didn't absolutely freak out with how far they buried the ones into my elbows!). What I don't have is carpal tunnel. Huzzah!

Taken in perspective, of course, having something wrong with my nerves isn't the best either. If the problem had been muscular... Well, muscles take stretching a lot better than nerves do. Each of the four exercises inspires some tingling and numbness in my hands and arms. I'm going to have to take it very slowly and carefully. A bonus, of course, is that some muscles will be worked, stretched and strengthened as a result.

This will be a slow process, but I have hope now, and I know what the issue is, and that's better than wandering around in the dark and (let's face it) making things worse.

In other news, Harry Potter VI was briefly in my possession, before I wisely gave it over to my parents for safekeeping. I am determined not to read it before the trip to Denmark. But it will be... hard...

Golf Epiphany

Most of you may know that I haven't been fencing in what probably approaches six months, the more I think about it, which of course has had a detrimental effect on my overall physical stamina. Yesterday being the company golf tournament, which I was persuaded to participate in by various parties, this became very, very apparent.

I'm no golfer, and we had carts, but at the sixth hole, I stared at the score card and thought to myself, "Good lord, there are twelve more holes?" Before I stopped competing, I could make it through a fair sized round robin, followed by at least one, if not two, direct elimination bouts, twice in one weekend, and felt about the same as I do today. This is sad, very very sad.

On a more positive note, my wrists do feel better. There is still a lot of tension and pressure in my hands, but the pain seems to be less. Either that, or I'm just getting used to it. On this, at least, I will attempt to be optimistic, and say that they hurt less. Whether that translates into a return to fencing for me will be up to the physiotherapist, as soon as I can schedule an appointment.