The Brain Behind The Curtain

When I went to college the first time around, I was a bona fide arts student. I took Art History classes (my major) and English and Photography and Theater and Film, and spent hours sitting around tables discussing Kurosawa and the Italian Renaissance. I had a science requirement that I fulfilled by taking those arts major standbys, Rocks For Jocks and Shake and Bake. I didn't do particularly well in either of them, either.

Flash forward to now, and not only am I taking much more challenging science classes, I'm doing pretty well. I'm not talking about grades - it's too early to call, and I still have a non-scientific fear-of-jinx reflex - but I actually understand what's going on when my Bio teacher is discussing the parts of a cell and their functions. I totally get how to figure out formulas for double replacement reactions in Chem lab. Not only that, but in my 'spare' time now, I'm writing articles about anatomy or reading books with titles like "Fascia: Clinical Applications for Health and Human Performance" (thank you Jill Miller - it's a cracking good read).

It feels like there was some part of my brain lying dormant for all these years, and suddenly a curtain has been drawn back to reveal a laboratory with bleeping blooping lights and whizzing dials and reams of paper coming out of machines (the lab is from the seventies) and a white-coated person with a clipboard who looks up at me and says, "Ah yes. Here you are. We've been waiting for you. Right this way, please."

How did this happen? Is it because I'm older, and I'm less distracted than my youthful peers? Or because this isn't my first time at the rodeo, and I have a handle on how to take good notes and what to learn for the quiz? I don't know - it feels like I've got some new person's brain. Hey - did I have a brain transplant and I can't remember because it was a brain transplant? Someone help me out here.

Uncle

Ok... so, in true overachiever form, I overreached. Stress-induced malady in the form of a hacking cough and snotty cold, coupled with a sudden complete inability to sleep past 6am as I *boing* awake with crazy brain has convinced me that perhaps I don't need to be taking so many classes at once while also teaching a full schedule, leading weekend long anatomy modules, guest writing articles, writing this blog, etc.

As a reformed overachiever however, I don't feel badly about dropping a class. Old me would have seen this as a failure, especially since the teacher of said class threw down a pretty serious gauntlet about who would pass and who would drop out, and I find that kind of challenge nigh irresistible (and I've never dropped out of anything in my life - are we sensing a pattern here?). New me sees it as a chance to still have a life while I'm going back to school, rather than a) feel guilty if I'm getting a pedicure or hanging out with my amazing twin nephews instead of studying in every possible free moment or b) actually be studying in every possible free moment, have no life whatsoever, and be miserable.

So yay! Let's count this as a win. A win for my toenails, if nothing else.

We Interrupt This Broadcast

To bring some slightly unrelated (school-wise), yet on a macro level, somewhat related (anatomy-wise) news. Please know that this topic has been duly covered from every single possible angle that you could ever single want to read about (and many you don't) over here, and this will not be another blog about my hip.

However. There has been a lot of pain in my hip recently, and more worryingly, now in my knee as well (sharp shooting pain out of apparently nowhere). I made an appointment to see Dr. Snibbe in Beverly Hills (only the best for Hip) as recommended by PT extraordinaire Sean Hampton, and as it turns out Dr. Snibbe knows surgeon extraordinaire Dr. Robert Buly at HSS in NYC who did my surgery. (And yes, that entire paragraph was about linking to the people I know and love who have performed miracles on Hip, in case you ever need them.)

As you can probably imagine, a waiting room in Beverly Hills is a pretty funny and entitled place, and yes, there was a celebrity there discussing crudites and lunch meat on the phone (I'm not making this up) but my favorite moment occurred as I was walking in to the back area to get X rays, when a woman with a walker yelled "DOOR!" at the closing door behind the nurse and me. These are always the moments when I wish I had the ability to raise one eyebrow at a time. In fairness, she had a walker and was going to have a hard time getting the door open, and she also retracted slightly and mumbled "I mean could you open the door for me please," and while we're at it let's be generous and assume she would have done that anyway, regardless of my unsuccessful eyebrow raise and meaningful stare.

Back on topic!

Ugly gym shorts, freezing exam room, same old same old. And then I got to see my hip in X ray for the first time in four years. Let's just say, time has not been kind.

Anatomy lesson (to keep this on topic)

A happy, healthy hip joint (femur bone and acetabulum) is two smooth, sliding surfaces with no jagged edges or rough points. The head of the femur, in particular, should look like this:

And yes, by 'this' I mean 'John Travolta.'

My femur looks like this:

Which is pretty in the night sky, but not ideal for pain-free movement, as the lumps and bumps grate over the acetabulum, and also get 'caught' on the side, also known as impingement.

The bottom line is that hip replacement surgery is basically guaranteed in my distant-ish future, and in the meantime, an MRI will show if Synvisc injections would be a good idea. Hey, science dorks: Synvisc is a synthetic synovial fluid made from rooster combs. Crazy.

Also: I will be a fascinating cadaver for dissection. They'll be able to trace the spinal scoliosis right down to the hip wear and tear! It's just like CSI!

Everyone is so kind to me about this, and says such nice things, and I truly, madly, deeply appreciate it. The real point of this is to tell you that Dr. Snibbe specifically attributed my relative lack of pain (relative) and real solid range of motion to yoga. I attribute it more specifically to Yoga Tune Up®, which is also what I used to rehab a client back from his hip replacement surgery. Come take class with me.

Enough detour: I have to go study for Psych 103, which as it turns out IS going to be a really hard class, because quizzes are only 5 questions, so if you miss one you're already down to a B. Jeez. Was it this hard the first time around?

Everything Settles Over Time

And that includes my brain. Second week down and I'm getting into the swing of things with school, and discovering (don't tell anyone) that I actually really like it. I like sitting in class, opening my notebook, writing copious notes, feeling faint wisps of recollection of hydrocarbons, amino acids and the like. I like that my Physiopsychology teacher folded her arms and threw down a challenge the first day. (To paraphrase, she told us it was going to be hard to get an A in her class. Since I am something of a smartass, I mentally replied that she just didn't know me yet.) I like how my Chemistry teacher looks like John Goodman and says things like "How much ecstasy can a 150lb person consume without overdosing?" to teach measurements. And I completely adore my wacky Biology teacher who did a running demo of a Jesus Christ lizard to show how the properties of water permit life. (He loves Biology so much, and it shows.)

[My hat is off to all of these teachers, and I am deeply impressed across the board with how good they are and how hard they work at their jobs. I really hope that for the most part, we've all gotten over the idea that teaching is for people who can't do anything else. It's an offensive idea.]

But most of all, I like using my brain this way again. It's easy to fall off the wagon and start filling your noggin with all kinds of useless junk (hello YoufaceJezeGoFugYourbookTube), and the same way that not using your muscles makes working out seem like hard work, not using my brain to learn like this has made re-entry a bit uncomfortable, but as with all stretching experiences, I'm growing accustomed to the new space. And less willing to fill it with videos of cats.