Update on the Foot

The top of my foot. You can see 3 of the 4 incisions.

So everyone already knows about my foot from my previous post. This fall semester I came to campus with some foot discomfort, and swelling. But, all of my walking around exacerbated my discomfort, making it extremely painful to put weight on it. Using much wisdom, I went to my podiatrist, who was also the surgeon. He ordered a CT scan, which showed that my original surgery did not work for healing my injury. There were only two options for treatment: 2 weeks of bone stimulation therapy, or surgery. The bone stimulation was a 50-50 chance of success, whereas the surgery would be a 90% chance of healing. After deliberation, I decided for the surgery. The decision was made on a Monday, the surgery happened on a Friday. I was blessed that my school has such a great disability services department, who worked hard to make sure my academics wouldn't suffer too greatly for my injury/surgery/recovery.

Side view. Looks so much grosser than it is... But lots of bruising.

When I shared this news with my friends in the East, they asked for pictures, because apparently if there are no pictures, it didn't happen. I don't know about that. I have the surgical scars to prove that I definitely had the surgery. What was supposed to take 2 hours, wound up taking over 5 hours. The doctor reported, though, that all of the questionable tissue was removed, the plate was fixed in securely, the old screws are gone, and bone graft in place. The x-rays show a complete fusion. Which means, I'm technically healed.

I was ordered to take 4 weeks of no weight baring on my post-op foot, and then 2 weeks using a walking cast/boot. Then I may need physical therapy. Personally, I'm hoping not, because I really dislike having to play the insurance game. But, whatever the doctor orders, I will comply.

The pictures are just before my stitches were removed, and just after the doctor affixed steri-strips over the scars. This is the 2 week mark, after the surgery. I have been healing very rapidly, which the doc attributes to being a compliant patient. I hope that means I won't have many issues when I walk again. I really miss walking.

Sole incision. Its the big one, almost on the ball.

Some of the details of the surgery: The doctor couldn't simply unscrew the screws that were in my foot. In order to remove them, he had to make an incision below the ball of my foot and push them out. It sounds gruesome, but I was under a general anesthetic. As far as I was concerned, he could have been giving me a foot massage, and I still wouldn't have known. Another thing, there was some tissue that he had to remove, which took a little bit of time. The pathologist report showed that it wasn't anything to worry about, just some dead tissue.

Steri-strips, keeper of incisions and wounds

The doctor did an incision between my second and third toe, to put a clamp in and secure the bones that he was putting the plate into. He also cut where the screws came out. The last incision, and by far the biggest, was where he put in the plate. The benefits of this particular method of healing my injury is that he didn't need to move so many of my nerves around. Meaning, there was significantly less inflammation to the nerves on the top of my foot, and it hurts a lot less. I'm also taking a lot stronger pain killers. My doctor advised me that it may hurt a lot more to have this surgery, because he had to take out the screws. I agree, initially it hurt a lot more. But at this point, it hurts a lot less. Because of that, I'm not deferring my semester, and instead will tough my way through it. This was one of those moments that I have a medical background, and am leaning towards that for future career. I really understood what was going on, and was able to ask the right questions.

I kind of resemble a mummy.

I'm most concerned that this one will just come off with a sock.

Tonight's weather is, thankfully, clear skies. I'm praying that the snow will hold off until I'm on my feet again.

Please comment and share this post, should you feel inclined.

Thank you,

The Tallgurrl

Tiny Stressors

This morning I was reading my email, just before considering breakfast. My lab professor sent out a reminder that we needed to sign up for our exam on either Thursday or Friday. Today was Thursday... I think you can see where I am going with this. I rushed through getting dressed, skipped breakfast, and hurried as fast as my scooter and tired body could get me up the hill. After wrestling a handicapped door that didn't work, and waiting for an ancient elevator, I finally made it to the sign-up sheet outside the lab room.

The dates are for next week.

I can't begin to describe the sigh of relief I released once I saw the dates. My whole body relaxed, and I almost fell over. Having an extra week to prepare for the skeleton exam will make my life so much better.

I just wanted to share this little life story, before passing out into sleep. I used up so much energy today, that it is all I can do to keep my eyes open to share this.

Little puffy clouds are passing by, with cherubic dreamers waving at passersby. I'm not sure it this is real, or just a figment of my imagination.

Please comment, share, and all that jazz.

Thank you,

The Tallgurrl

The Little Things

Tonight I want to talk about the things that I am grateful for, and the things I look forward to. You see, there comes a time, hopefully often, when one ponders their life circumstance and looks at all the great blessings that came along the way. I have a few tough circumstances: currently my foot has many stitches in it, and I am not allowed to walk on it for another 2.5 weeks; I really only work for 4 months per year, because the rest of the year I am in school full time; I live/go to school in a fairly remote area. The thing is, each of these circumstances is a hidden blessing of its own.

My foot with stitches is a great blessing. Had I not complained of the pain, my doctor would never have thought to do the CT scan that showed that my initial surgery was not successful. I was blessed to have a second surgery, which will have a shorter recovery time than the first one did. Rather than just amputate my foot, I get to have a plate in it, and will be able to have full usage of my foot when fully healed.

Working for only 4 months a year is actually a great blessing. Firstly, I have a job!!! Secondly, I earn a goodly wage, for a college student. Being in school is a HUGE blessing. Earning my degree will make me a more marketable employee, and increase my paycheck by a bit. My university is a fairly well known one. Having their name on the top of my degree will be a good thing. It is much more impressive to employers than merely my high school diploma.

The remote location of my school is another great blessing. I am able to see all of the stars on a clear night. There is a down-home feel here that is impossible to find in a city. The locals, whilst being mildly irked by the annoying college students, they are very kind and good natured. There is virtually no pollution in this area. Oh yeah, I almost forgot one thing: Idaho potatoes. They are abundant and quite inexpensive.

I decided tonight that I wanted to be grateful because I realized that on Friday my stitches will be removed, and I will finally be able to get my foot wet. It has been difficult to keep clean, but the improvisation and creativity has made it possible and very amusing. I have been washing my hair in the kitchen sink, for instance. I can't help but laugh about it, because I am mobile by using a scooter that I rest my injured leg on and push with my healthy leg. Imagine being parked on this scooter, right in front of a kitchen sink, with dripping wet/soapy hair leaning over said sink... Can't help it, right? A little chuckle? I keep meaning to put a bell, or chime, or horn on the scooter. If I had it for longer than 4 weeks, the plan was to Bedazzle it. Alas, it will be only a short-term part of my life. It was a blessing to be able to use it. I could have done crutches, but that could have been painful over time. The scooter was a perfect solution.

Have you ever looked at your life and found unexpected blessings? Did the guy at the farm stand give you extra produce for free? Did someone let you ahead in a line? Maybe you just found $5 in your pants pocket? When we look for the little things, and choose to be happy, life is much more joyous to exist in.

Today was a pseudo-Indian Summer. The day warmed to unusual temperatures, cooling off in the evening. There may not be many more days like this one, so best get your fall camping trips planned.


Please leave comments, and share with your loved ones and friends.

Thank you,

The Tallgurrl

Introductions and Salutations

I think there may be a few people new to reading this blog. So, in the interest of giving perspective, I'm going to do an introduction and explanation of things to do with this blog.

My pseudonym is Zuzu Bailey. I have long been a fan of the film Its a Wonderful Life, and thought myself to be of a similar personality to the daughter. As such, when choosing the anonymity pseudonym the name Zuzu Bailey instantly came to mind. I only hope that I can do justice to the sprite that is that character. Now why, you may ask, do I want to maintain anonymity? It is quite simple: Sometimes I will write about friends and acquaintances. People, myself included, do not always come off in the best light when frankness and candor are employed. In order to "protect the innocent," I use assumed names for everyone featured in the blog. I may at some time change that, but for the present, vague fake names and identifying features will will have to suffice.

Now, more about names. You may also be wondering why I always sign off as The Tallgurrl. There is a little story to go with that. I come from a vertically blessed family. Throughout my childhood, I was usually the tallest student. As kids who are insecure will act, many would poke fun at my height and general size. Over the years, I have come to realize both the awesomeness and advantages of being tall. I am what my DNA was designed to be, and no amount of fighting it or regretting it will alter what is my glorious height, 6'0". In the spirit of self acceptance and trying to be an example to others who may be dealing with any sort of body issues, I choose to call a spade a spade... In other words, I will not deny my tallness. Instead, I celebrate it and the Amazon-ness that it entails,  and sorrow for those who seek to feel superior through careless, or pointed comments. I titled my blog "The Weather Up Here" after my middle school autobiography because too often shorter people would make the lame comment "how's the weather up there?" I decided that since I will always know before my shorter, and occasionally uncouth acquaintances, it would be a kindness to give them some advanced warning.

So, a little more about me... I was raised in coastal New Hampshire, the third of four children. My parents made an effort to show my siblings and I a much larger world, and so exposed us to a variety of cultures... (Including the cultures of our own familial heritage.). I grew up loving to read and explore. It was not uncommon to have multiple trips a week to the local public library to exchange the 4-5 books I had checked out and finished reading. (Yes, I am that fast a reader.). The kids in my family had the "normal" amount of bickering, but we would challenge anyone who would do or say anything that hurt our siblings. It is one thing if we said it, but an outsider... unthinkable.

So why college, and why Idaho? I had been working in a career that was somewhat limited in its ability to move up in the company. It was not really a living wage, when life expenses were factored in. Returning to college, to get a degree, was really the most intelligent option for making myself more marketable an employee. That 4 year degree, no matter what it was in, would give me a much needed boost in starting wages. Now as for Idaho, that was just a feeling. I come from a place rife with universities, many of them Ivy League. (Not to say I was planning to apply for there, but it was available.). I was looking at schools, and trying to get a sense of where I would fit in, where I would have the best experience, and where I wouldn't have to sell my left kidney to afford tuition. In the end, of the schools that I was accepted to, BYU-Idaho was the right fit. I'm loving my time here. I learn a lot, and the area/people are so kind. I feel no fear taking a ride from a stranger home from the grocery store... I'm not stupid, I would only accept during daylight and if they weren't giving off a serious creeper vibe.

Other tidbits about me:  I am not married. I have dated a number of "special children of God," as well as some interesting people. Each experience has taught me things I want in a partner, and things that are total deal-breakers. I wouldn't change a one of them, though, because at the least I got some good stories out of them. I am LDS, a Mormon, a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My parents raised me as such, and I found for myself that this is included in my truth. I love to cook. I think that if I weren't studying public health, I would probably have gone to Le Cordon Bleu and become a master chef. Being a total foodie is a way of life for me, and having farm to table food is a passion. I am a bit of a knitting fan. A good friend of mine taught me to knit a few years ago, and it has been a hobby of mine ever since. It helps me focus. It helps me pass time. I get to feel really soft fibers. There doesn't seem to be a down side to it.

So why read my blog? I hope you are reading it to gain some insights. Maybe it is entertaining to you. Perhaps you want to start discussion on one of the things I post about. I had initially started this blog, and wrote some borderline "I've been victimized by my buddies" posts. During the past 6 months, I had much time for reflection, and decided that the voice I was using here didn't accurately reflect who I really am, or how I really feel about things. I'm not rewriting any of my old posts. They can stand as a testament to how I'm transitioning as a person and blogger. Besides, someone somewhere might want to chime in on a conversation. What I want to pursue as a voice here and now is one of positivity, love, hope, faith, and feminism. I'll write about the feminism at a later time, but I think that my views are echoed by many people, but just not labeled the way I choose to label them.

I think what I was using my blog for, before, was as a mask. It was a way to hide and not be really honest about who I really am. It is easy to point fingers. It is easy to close our eyes a little bit when we look in the mirror. But part of loving ourselves is recognizing our flaws, accepting the things we cannot change about ourselves, changing what we can, and forgiving ourselves for not being perfect.

What are your masks? Is there something that you are afraid to share with a loved one, in fear that they won't accept that part of you? Do you hide your awesomeness, worried that it won't cut the muster?

Tonight's autumnal winds are strong enough to remove the clouds of doubt that hide who we are. But have no fear, the colorful leaves are still falling and making the landscape a virtual mosaic of riotous colors.

Please comment. I really want to hear your thoughts and feelings. And as always, share this with your loved ones and friends.

Thank you,

The Tallgurrl

The Wisdom of Thumper

Today I went to a salon and had some type of "beauty" treatment done. (No, it wasn't something over the top or extreme, but it was a simple thing that was a treat for myself, since I'm laid up.). I think it looked good, and was feeling quite pretty. When I scooted into my apartment, though, one of the people on our couch said "You've got to be kidding." Now, I don't look for approval in my life choices. I'm kind of like a honey badger, like that. But her words hurt my feelings. Later in the evening, I expressed how I had felt, and we had a moment. It was really quite sweet. She apologized, I forgave, we grew as friends. This experience was actually a very beneficial one for our relationship. We both realized that I had been less vocal about any personality quirks that may bother me, but very forgiving of anything that could be hurtful.

One thing that I noticed in my own personality is somewhat of the level of sarcasm that I enlist in my daily communication. Sarcasm, whilst often quite humorous, is also designed to cut someone. It may not be intended to do harm, but no tone of voice can change the words spoken. Mean words are still mean words. And I realized that I had been using them often. I may have meant them facetiously, but they still were unkind.

In order to maintain a kinder and more loving community, I have a challenge for both myself and you readers. Lets pause before we use our regular sarcastic comments. In that moment of pause, consider how our words will sound to people who do not know us. The only way sarcasm is understood completely is by those who are privy to our intimate thoughts and personalities. The lay person doesn't know us. They don't know our intentions, or sense of humor. But they do hear what we say, and if they are words that tear down, rather than build up... Well, you come to the conclusion of that.

Ghandi is credited with saying "Be the change you want to see in the world." Over and over we hear that this world is a tough place. It is. But I reject the notion that we just have to get used to it. I don't want to. I want to make my society one where people are welcome, loved, and accepted. The first step is to remember what Thumper's father taught him about words: If you can't say something nice, don't say nothing at all.


Tonight's skies were clear, and made me think of Harvest Moon's glows. Even though the moon is in a waning gibbous, it is still bright and illuminates the misty breath of people walking by.


As always, please comment and share this post with friends. You all have great thoughts, and I would love a discussion to continue.

Thank you,

The Tallgurrl

Happy Dreams and Feel Good Movies

Today was Sunday, and I happen to live with some very sweet, very insistent women. It is a day for church worship, spiritual music, and feel good movies. Church was interesting today. The women's auxiliary lesson was entirely conducted as a favorite hymn sing along, and testimony share. That was actually really good for me. I am one of those peculiar people who is able to feel deeply what the music is saying. Not only do the lyrics touch my soul, but the blend of melody and harmony make my spirit soar. This meeting so moved me that I was weeping in a few parts, and was unable to participate in the singing part for a few songs.

I deeply believe that music can affect the mood and spirit one feels. When watching a scary movie, ominous music tells you when to be terrified (usually before an insane killer comes out to harm the protagonist). When the sweet, sweeping slow music swells, you know that the guy is going to confess his undying love, and kiss the girl. The same can be said for music in a religious aspect. I recognize that many Christian rock songs have a great message, and teach good principles. In fact, I have a fairly good supply of these musicians albums and always seek more. The thing is, I have great difficulty inviting the Holy Spirit to the sounds of drums and electric guitars. I feel that hymns of praise are a bit more appropriate for there. Today was a hymn day, and I felt the Holy Spirit so greatly, testifying to me that Jesus Christ loves me, and died for me. It reminded me that God loves me, and wants the best things for me... And that when I struggle, He will give me the extra strength in my weakness.

Tonight, in the pursuit of maintaining this spiritual high, my roommates and I were looking for a movie to watch. We narrowed it down to 3 great choices: Big Miracle, Soul Surfer, and Dolphin Tale. They each were in the realm of great messages, and were going to keep us in a mode of worship and gratitude, and love for our fellow humans (though 2 of the films are about animals). We decided on Big Miracle, and it was just what I needed. It reminded me that sometimes people put aside their own agendas, and do the right thing, just because it is right. I felt joy to be sharing it with them, especially since one of them had never seen the film. I'm just really grateful that there are filmmakers who create movies that teach good values and that love really is a universal connection. So in the spirit of how I'm feeling tonight, I would invite everyone to be a little bit kinder to each other. Give a little bit more love. Forgive a little bit easier. And remember to love and forgive yourself!!! May you see happy dreams.

Tonight's sky is clear, with a few stars and a moon just over the horizon. The cold, dry Rexburg air is giving a hint of the winter weather that is forthcoming. But for now, it is definitely autumn.

Please feel free to comment and share this post. I would love your feedback.

Thank you,

The Tallgurrl

Quiet Moments

I have been spending the past few weeks pondering my own nature, and ways I can change to become a better person. I know the old saying is that we are our own worst critics. I do not consider myself to be overly critical of my personality faults. That said, I am well aware of my shortcomings, and where I need improvement. These days I have been feeling a great desire to be a kinder and more sensitive person. As I have been living with my roommates this semester, their loving and generous natures have inspired me to notice the lack in my own behavior. I keep saying the kind of man I want to be with is loving, generous, has a strong testimony of Christ,.... But do I possess these traits within myself?

Its been a a little while, my introspection. Through the past few months, I had to really be critical of myself and also kinder. There is a reason: I sustained a crippling injury that required surgery and 6+ months of twice weekly physical therapy. My body was broken, and I couldn't do most of the things I wanted to do. I had nothing but time, so decided to use it in a better way than just vegetating and being super depressed.

This is not my foot, but an example of how I initially treated it.

Three days before Christmas 2012, I was attending a party in someone's home. It was an old New England styled home, which means that the steps to the den were 4 inches high and 12-18 inches deep. I missed one of the steps, and in my fall twisted my feet, breaking my left one. I didn't know it was broken. I thought it was a very painful, bad sprain. I did some RICE (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation), and continued to do my holiday work. I was the recipient of several rude comments about my laziness and making up my injury to avoid being a help to my mother/grandmother during the holidays. I think the people who held those sentiments got to eat some humble pie when I called my family the second week of the winter semester at college, to tell them that I would be having a major surgery that Friday.

That experience was one of the most humbling one I've ever had in my life. The pain was so bad that I wound up taking a lot of narcotics. The nerve damage was so extensive (the doctor had to move all of the nerve clusters in my foot to have space to work in) that I only recently am getting feeling back in my toes. (Imagine a daily feeling of fiery tarantulas crawling under your skin, then devolving to just hairy tarantulas, and then just the numb... That's what my foot was like.) The physical discomfort aside, the emotional drain was very difficult, too. I went from a fairly trim active woman, to one who can barely walk. I exercised 4 times a week, danced ballet, took random walks. Then it was nothing. I experienced atrophy in my leg that more than halved the muscle mass/tone, and also gained weight. Exercise has long been therapeutic for me, and to be unable to participate was debilitating. Also, the medications made my mind so fuzzy that I had to medically defer 2 semesters, thereby pushing my graduation date a year.

Being a physically weak person made me examine my emotional, spiritual, and intellectual strength. I found that I wavered a lot emotionally. I had my up days, and my days that were perpetually grey. In the whole, though, I worked hard to keep an optimistic outlook. I knew there was a finish line, and I was determined to make it there within the prescribed time constraints. Intellectually I have been and always will be strong. God has granted me a gift in learning, and I intend to always use it and be worthy of having it. Spiritually, I had a bit of a struggle. I know that "all things happen for a higher purpose." But sometimes that seems very trite and easy to say. So many people who are comfortable in their existence and where they are would express this, but it often feels insincere. In my life, rarely have I felt the consistent eye of care from my fellow man. I wasn't poor enough. I wasn't from large enough of a family. I wasn't in an obvious struggle of faith. This was the curse/legacy I was given: being self contained. (I've always kept my issues to myself.) So as I struggled with my physical issues, it was excruciating in both pain and the asking for help. I still have difficulty asking for help, but have improved of late.

My struggle of faith, that was a different matter. I didn't share it with anyone but my older sister. We were raised in a devout LDS family, but I was questioning things. There is the LDS doctrine, which I have a firm testimony is true and very much the sort of things God and Jesus want done. Then there is the LDS culture. The culture is one thing that I will probably struggle with for my entire life. The people are not perfect, but somehow I expect better... more from them. I spent many weeks this spring/summer praying and pondering whether it was worth the investment of time with people who aren't all that they claim to be. My sister gave me the good advice to keep doing whatever helped me grow closer to God, and keep asking what to do. It would be in the good works, and spirit growing that the answers would come. So I would stay home from church, and instead do my own pursuit. (The LDS church uses lay clergy, and their sermons are mostly given by the congregation. Sometimes they are a bit eccentric, so sometimes I really have to struggle to feel the Holy Spirit.) It was on one of those Sundays that it really came to me: it doesn't matter what these other people think, say, do. All that matters is what I do, say, think... and how much closer it gets me to my God and my Jesus. Is what I'm doing improving my holy relationships? Who am I to question where another person is in a spiritual aspect? These questions made me pray for different things, and for more people. Some of the selfish fell away, and more of the love came to rest.

As I began changing my prayers and changing my heart, I noticed something very interesting happening. The very traits that I have been desiring in a mate have been growing in me... At least, I think that they have. Really, the only way to know if one has those traits is to know how s/he sees other people. For myself, my opinions of other people have been changing. I do admit, though, that it is difficult to be at a college with people who are 10+ years younger than me. I literally go to school with children. But there is something beautiful about that. Many of my classmates possess within themselves an innocence and purity that reminds me of angels.

Keep looking for the beauty in this world. The weather is ever changing. Whether there is a storm on the horizon, or a glorious sunrise, a peaceful heart will find a joyful experience.

Please keep reading and commenting, and sharing this blog. I'm working making this a daily post blog this semester.

Thank you,

The Tallgurrl