Managing Spoons

The official countdown has begun.  2 weeks from today I get my bi-annual Ketamine Nerve Block Series.  Unfortunately, it's always the last few weeks before my blocks that are the toughest to manage.  Add to it the temperature changes of fall, the stress that accompanies Championship Week in volleyball, and the fact that we're supposed to get the "s" word anytime between tonight and Saturday, and I might as well not even get out of bed.  (My body is saying "snow on Friday night."  I am not amused.)  People have asked me why I don't get blocks more often and the answer is simple ... I hate them.  I hate how the drugs make my head and tummy feel.  I hate that I have to be knocked out for the procedure.  I hate that I have to get nine inch needles stuck in both sides of my neck, both armpits, both sides of my spine, and the inside and outside of both hips.  I hate that it takes me about 5 days to completely recover from this 3 hour "vacation."  I hate that parts of my body go completely numb and I hate that I have no control over them.  (seriously, you try sitting on the toilet while someone holds you upright because you can't feel your own ass and because of that, you fall over into walls, sinks, bathtubs, doorknobs ... it's pretty friggin degrading.)  So I schedule my block series every 6 months.  And twice a year, for a few weeks, I just have to suck it up and deal.

My Littles had their last match on Monday.  They lost but the B and A teams both won.  The "A" Team win gave us the home court advantage for the 1st round of playoff matches to take place today.  For me, this is a blessing and a curse.  (I'm about to do Spoon Math.  Are you ready? ... If you have no idea what I'm talking about, go tohttp://www.butyoudontlooksick.com/articles/written-by-christine/the-spoon-theory/ and read The Spoon Theory.)  Ok, I am only in possession of about 9 spoons today.  I have already showered, dressed and eaten, but I didn't shave, I only did the bare minimum on my make-up and hair, and I threw some leftover pizza in the microwave.  Cost: 2 Spoons.  I have to drive 25 miles to school, but I have access to the elevator once I get there, so that takes stairs out of the equation, but the elevator dumps me out in one of the middle school hallways where I get mauled and hugged by my favorite Littles.  Cost: 1 Spoon.  Then The Amazing Dad and I have to set up the net, bleachers, chairs, and ref stand.  Cost (even with his help): 2 Spoons.  ~this is where I am able to take one puff of K-Spray~  Between warm-ups and the match itself, I donate 2 more Spoons to the cause.  (Not only physical exertion but all of the emotional highs and lows as well.)  This leaves me with 2 usable Spoons for the rest of my day.  I still have to drive 25 miles to get home and I still need to eat, get into my pj's and put my pain riddled body in bed, which will gobble up those last 2.  Barring any unforeseen circumstances, I'd say that I've planned my Spoons out pretty well.

I have faith that I have done everything in my power to be present in today.  I am fulfilling my responsibilities and I am doing the 1 thing that I love most ... coaching volleyball.  I have faith that the Skank is going to try to mess with me as much as possible for the next few days, and I have faith that, regardless of what she does to my body, my soul and my spirit will both continue to soar.  I also have faith that it's entirely possible that I'm talking out of my oostakaka right now.  I'm trying to be optimistic, but, at the same time, I'm a realist.