Category Archives: Health

If it makes you feel better…

This week hasn’t been the best for me. I understand that there are several differences between the German and the American mind. I get that I should not be offended if you tell me something to my face that I wouldn’t even say to my best friend even though I barely know you as my coworker.

I get how I must sound like a hypocrite for supporting HAES and FA when I’m for all appearances a normal-weight person. I get how I must sound like a hypocrite for advocating self-made people when it seems like I don’t have to struggle for most achievements (I do, though. You people don’t see the amount of all-nighters I pull!).

Why do you have to hurt me to make you feel better, though? What is it in this country that has people sniping you down from every small high you manage to create for yourself?

Three situations over the past few days have made me want to cry… Continue reading

Breaked my finger

Sitting in the hospital waiting area is certainly a lot more entertaining when you have the benefit of pain medication, but even without there are a few things to take your mind off your own misery.

Like this little girl of no more than three who came up to me leaning back against the chair, eyes closed and cradling my right hand to my chest.

“What you do?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m waiting for my x-rays.”

“You speak funny.”

“It’s called an accent. And I’m sorry if I’m hard to understand.”

“My uncle funny-speaks. I know.”

“Ah, so you’ve had practice. That’s great!”

“He very nice. What you do?”

“I think I broke a couple fingers.”

“Why?”

“Because I was trying to hit a ball back to the opposing team.”

“Why?”

“So we would win.”

“Why?”

“Because I hate to lose.”

“Why?”

“Because it makes me feel useless.”

“What useless?”

“If you don’t know what to do with it.”

“If I don’t know what to do with it I breaked my finger?”

“NO!”

Thankfully, the girl’s mother (who’d needed stitches in a hand cut in the kitchen) came and rescued me. After getting x-rayed and splinted, I went to say goodbye but they had left before me. I don’t think I’d have been up for another round of the why-game anyway.

Gym-o-phobe?

I hate gyms.

No, seriously. I hate the smell, the noise of these stupid machines, the grunts of exertion resounding around the room. I hate weight training. I hate treadmills, steppers, stairmasters.

I love running outside. I love swimming. I love my martial arts (I’m doing more of a mixed martial arts style by now because I’m mixing TKD with ancient Korean martial arts, do Tai Chi in the classic Yang style, do iaido and just got started on fighting fans). I even like doing my forms with weights on my wrists, ankles, biceps and around my waist just because it’s not classic weight training (and let me tell you, some of them are harder than weight training can be. Ever tried doing a slow kick on waist height with a five-pound weight on your ankle? Ouch!).

I guess I’m a gym-o-phobe. My sports club here in Germany has a multitude of courses to chose from, not one of which is a classic gym workout. They keep me occupied during these cold winter months.

They also put up the tennis court cover halls this week, so I’m going to start on that next week or in two weeks depending on my partners. Can’t wait to go chasing that yellow ball again! My fencing trainer’s license should be coming through some time this month as well so I’m going to be coaching once more.

Hell, I still need to work. Dammit!

The funny thing is that though most of my sports put me in direct competition with everyone else in the class, none of them involve the kind of body-judging grunt-adjusting thing that goes on in the gym. You’re not competing about your bodies, you’re competing with your bodies.

I’ll never have a model’s figure (full thighs, butt, muscled arms, wide ribcage and shoulders), but dammit can I do a drop-kick on a model’s 6′-high head. Coming back from a workout, I always feel energized. I don’t feel down, or bad about myself because I didn’t compare. Even if I couldn’t do something (and yes, I’m looking at that fucking triple jump-kick combo thing I should be doing that has me landing on my butt all the time), I’m more fired up than anything else. Even if I lose a bout, I don’t feel like being a sore loser. I feel like I’ve learned something.

I guess that’s what irks me a lot about traditional gym workouts- the lack of learning progress. There’s only so many exercises you can do on those machines or with those weights after all, and your body offers limitless opportunities to play with it.

That said, I should be sleeping right now. Have to go to the office in five hours. Oh shit!

So that’s what’s up with my health then- or not?

My weight has gone up a LOT over the past two years. Like, forty pounds a lot. OK, I’m still in the “normal” weight range and I’m still pretty good in training but… it irks me. And puts me a couple weight classes higher in comps and that makes me go against people a head taller than me which is not good, no matter how fast you are.

Three doctors in the US and in Germany later, there’s just one agreement: Mine is an unusual case. They found out I’m hypothyroid (no shit, Sherlock, I’ve been on meds for five years) and that I apparently have a secondary thyroid dysfunction, meaning there’s something amiss in my brain. Uh-oh.

Sooo… they adjusted my T3/T4. Effect: I’m not only tired anymore but napping all over the place.  Sitting at my desk with me not absolutely busy has me falling asleep.

Until I can get my brain scan done, I’m going to have to live with this. It’s damn inconvenient- not that I want my insomnia back, but some happy medium would be very much appreciated. All the doctors are too stumped by my paradox reactions to meds, though (sleep meds make me hyper, most penicillins cause me to break out in hives, vaccinations lay me up for days… about the only thing I can take without side effects is Tylenol), so they’re pretty much shooting in the dark.

I just wish all that would go away. Just gimme a drug and send me on my way, please!