I lost my virginity on the ice and all I got was this swollen ankle!

(Note: the dates listed on all posts are inaccurate. My posts are in oldest to newest format for the purpose of story telling.)

A twenty-five year old ice-skating virgin, I decided it was my time to be de-flowered. After all, I had the right city and the right man. I moved to New York City about a year ago, and about three months ago, met my studsy boyfriend. No better time than now!

So on Saturday, December 13th around 4:30p.m., we ventured toward the rink. En route, I explained to my boyfriend, a former hockey player who had been skating since childhood, that because I was such a serious little ballerina for forever that I could never ice-skate in fear of falling, breaking something, and thus ruining my future career as prima diva ballerina of the New York City Ballet.

What I didn't tell him, but was equally true, was that I have also had a fear of looking the slightest bit of amateur at anything since I was a kid; your average neurotic, perfection seeking and otherwise mentally self-debilitating ballerina mmm hmmm. So not only was I susceptible to pulling a muscle or cracking my skull open (and let me tell you that a cracked skull and a tutu do not go well together), but there lied a possibility that I would just look like a complete inexperienced-ass on the ice. The last thing I ever wanted was to step on the ice and not look Nancy Kerrigan-like.

Now, however, I am a twenty five year old grown person and I have learned to embrace my imperfections. I put on the skates and stand up in the lounge area and walk back and forth a little bit while I wait for my boyfriend, Dan, to tie his apparently uncooperative skate strings. "Walking's not so hard," a proudly tell Dan while he fumbles with his laces.

We get on the ice and I start to get the hang of it. Dan is a great teacher and I'm actually having a bit of nervous fun. I'm not overly self-conscious, despite the small children skating circles around me and the cliques of teenage girls pointing and giggling (whatever; they were standing on the rail and not even skating). I fall a couple of times on my butt and laugh it off. Dan assures me that everyone falls their first time.

So far so good. The main bother was that some of the rink workers were being annoying, as they wouldn't let us stop and take a break at the rail even though my poor baby's feet were hurting and I needed to stop and breathe.

--Shameful when a yoga teacher holds her breath while doing anything. "Must inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale."--

After our "achy foot slash oxygen break" is cut short by hateful ice police, we proceed back onto the ice. I'm doing so well that we start making circles toward the inner part of the rink, far away from the railing. I don't know exactly what happened but all of a sudden, "THUD!" Or it could have been "CRACK!" Or maybe even, "POP!" I don't know. All I know is that as I fell my right knee bent and rotated inward, and my outer right foot rolled flat against the ice with my heel pointing out in front of me and my toes pointing towards the mean ice police behind me; what a stretch! If you cannot picture this then just know that no human body, no not even a yoga teacher former ballerina body, should be contorted into this shape. The inflexible and hard ice skates did not aid in my fall either. As Dan reaches out his hand to lift me up I know I'm in trouble.

To be continued......

Wine Intermission....

My wiNe reView foR tHe weEk oF Dec. 14th 2008

If you like South African Reds this one is for you. It's a 2006 Brampton Shiraz by Rustenberg. 

Here is it's description (credited to the makers): Cloves, white-pepper, black cherries and hints     of dark chocolate (*can we say yummmmmmmm) suppport the richness of ripe fruit due to         an accessible tannin structure. This wine will complement a variety of fine dishes. Enjoy      

    now in the comapany of good looking friends (it really said that on the bottle) or cellar for a       further 3-6 years.

www.rustenberg.co.za

~Note: * indicates that this was my add-in and not stated on the back of the bottle

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Although it's a South African Wine I enjoyed it with some really good South Indian food from Tiffin Wallah, which is located at 127 E. 28th St. in Curry Row. The wine was not from Tiffin Wallah but the food and delievery service were great! : - P

Hare, Zheng Gu Tui Na

Standing up with Dan's aide was one thing, but I had no idea what to do from there. I took an almost 360 degree gaze around me (almost 360 degrees because unfortunately my head cannot make a full circular rotation and I had no ability to pick up my feet and actually move them to turn around). We were truly in the center of the rink. Great. I explain to Dan that THERE IS A PROBLEM. I ice-scoot my way over to the railing with Dan. Fantastic; in only moments I'm sure the rink guards will tell us to move. Apparently standing still is now a hazard. Movement really didn't seem like a  possibility though. The doorway that would take us away from the rink and into the locker room area was directly across from us; a short distance it was not.

I knew I had no choice but to skate back to the other side. Ugh! "I can do this. I'm a yogi; I've done harder things." We did it; made it to the other side. "Thank you universe!" 

I hobbled over to the nearest bench to find that taking the stiff-as-a-board ice skate off of my stagnant ankle was not going to be easeful nor pleasant . While scrunching my face up in different non-ballerina-stage-appropriate ways, I pulled the skate off of my foot. My right ankle was three times the size of the left one! I would learn that the black and blue bruises were to make their appearance in about 24 hours. I tried to walk, walking turned into crying, and we took a cab back to Dan's place. 

Although I was in tears from the pain, I'm stubborn, and I tried to get up off my assigned place on the love seat and limp around; I am not one for staying still. Dan was not having it though, and he ran and swooped me up each time I tried to stand and carried me everywhere I needed to go, which was pretty much no where but the bathroom and to get the wine bottle for a refill. "Oh, you best believe I was drinking!"

When trouble rears its nasty head, I call the acupuncturist. No Westernized hospital emergency room visits for me. They squeezed me in the next day. Yes! I had never been so happy to be punctured. Approximately 10 needles, a bag of marijuana-looking medicinal herbs, and a  stick of burning sage later...well, I would love to say that I was as good as new.....however, I felt exactly the same. 

After my session, my acupuncturist told me to do two things: one; schedule another visit for Tuesday, and two; go to an herbal pharmacy in Chinatown called Kamwo and get Zheng Gu Tui Na. This is mixture of chinese herbs that when combined with boiling water can be used as a soak to reduce swelling, relax muscles, kill pain, relieve spasm and move stasis.

--So my daily ritual of  today has been the heating of two to three gallons of water and herbs in hopes that this sacred solution will allow me to walk without pain tomorrow--not to mention have a leg that is not the size of a tree trunk.

Stay tuned. Cannot wait to gauge the size of my ankle after the fourth soak!

My first crutch (AKA: snow sliding)

Four soaks of Zheng Gu Tui Na later, I'm back to the acupuncturist. I hopped onto the table and slid off my boot to show the alternative medicined healer my faulty limb. My jaw dropped as Dr. Church and I looked at my foot and then at one another. My foot and ankle looked even worse than they had when I woke up that morning. My face was in utter shock and his in horror. When Dr. Church's gaze met mine he politely changed his expression from, "holy crap" to a softer, "it's not as bad as it looks." He then proceeded to tell me, "It's not as bad as it looks." Right. Didn't see that one coming.

The whole underside of my foot plus my toes and toenails were bright yellow. The rest of my inflamed foot and ankle flesh were covered in blue and purple bruises. I asked, "So you absolutely don't see the possiblity of a fracture?" Dr. Church disagreed and said that it was possible. Well, at least then I could admit to him that I gave into the pressure of our society and contacted a Westernized health care professional that morning. My mother freaked me out only hours earlier when she said I should see a podiatrist to make sure I didn't end up with a deformity. Deformity? Um, no thanks. So I had hung up with my mother, promptly called the podiatrist and scheduled a 4:45 appointment for that day. I told this to Dr. Church and he attested that it was an intelligent move. Well if the Eastern doc was validating the Western doc, then podiatry it was!

The acupuncture alleviated much of the pressure. That is, until only two hours later I stubbed my toe on the toolbox while hobbling through the kitchen and an excruciating pain was sent from my outer right foot, up the side of my leg. Stiffness and pissed-offness ensued.

After waiting an hour to see my podiatrist, she acknowledged me and then my "traumatized foot" (her words). She showed me the fracture on the x-ray. I burst into tears. She was sweet and felt horrible, as I was crying like a lost child, and proceeded to make lots of jokes to get me to smile.

Dr. Ameilo told me that I was to get more, "extra special" x-rays in two days. These more gifted x-rays would give a more detailed look at my ankle fracture and access the presence or lack of a fracture in my right foot as well. Geez, all this from 20 minutes of ice play! The next day I will go to her office again with these holy x-rays and we will discuss surgery. Yes, surgery!

Dr. Ameilo puts a soft cast on my leg and gives me the crutches. Although, I am a natural dancer and dedicated yogi, getting the hang of these crutches was not easy. Lets not forget that its snowing outside, so essentially I'm sliding in the snow on the crutches trying to inhale and exhale to make it the block and a half home. 

See, the problem is that I didn't know I was going to be leaving the doctor's in crutches so I had my oversized shoulder bag with me. Incase there is any wonder, "No, shoulder bags and crutches do not work together...especially in the snow!" I had to stop every three or four hops to adjust the freaking shoulder bag which was pushing the right crutch forward from underneath my arm. "Ugh!" 

Some people on the street stopped to ask if I was okay because apparently I looked like I was struggling. This makes me sad and want to cry; "wow, do I really look that pitiful?" 

Other people on the street totally ignored me and didn't offer help; this makes me want to kill them, "wow, are you that much of a heartless jerk!" : )   

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Today is a new day and I've gotten a little more adapted to the crutches. They are actually kind of fun. I like propelling myself forward and landing gracefully. I can even choose how far I wish to propel myself and how high I would like to go. Going really far forward and really high is like flying, which was not recommended by the podiatrist, but is sooooo gratifying. They provide a pretty good workout too! This is the new vinyasa.

It is what it is

Cheers to Asana:

Sanskrit is an ancient Indian language--the language in which the healing science/spiritual practice of yoga is written. "Yoga" is a sanskrit word which literally means "yoking," or bringing together. Another way of saying this would be union. Yoga is the union between mind, body and soul. It is the union between all beings, places, things and points of time. It is really the union between any two or multiple things that you could possibly think of. Through this yoking we can say that "We are one," or "We are all one."

Now, what is Asana? Asana is a sanskrit word meaning "posture" or "seat." In most parts of the world, America not included, yoga is characterized more by the spiritual practice--the meditation, chanting and studying of the scriptures--than the physical practice. When one mediates or studies, one takes a seat. This seat can symbolize the connection to the earth or the yoking/union of the earth and our own nature.

In the West, when the average person thinks of yoga, this person thinks of exercise or being in a super hot room (Bikram yoga). Yoga can be thought of as exercise, but it is exercise for the purpose of union with something; hopefully that "something" is more than a toned bum or six-pack abs. Those are possible benefits of the physicality of yoga but yoga is much more than that. 

So, this physical style of yoga is what we call asana in the US. Remember that asana means "posture." These different postures are the shapes we bring our body into during a yoga class. As stated before, however, asana also means "seat," what we take to meditate. So the connection or union here is that while moving through these postures, or shapes, in yoga class we can be in the same peaceful state of mind that we would while taking that meditative seat. This is why although yoga could be called "exercise with a purpose," it is more accurately described as "yoga." Yoga is it's own unique modality. It doesn't need to be categorized. It is what it is! :)  

Creatively carving the fibula

So a spiral fracture is what occurs when a bone twists apart. Apparently I have two of them. Two of them in my right fibula. The part of the fibula near the ankle. I saw the x-rays. They are actually quite pretty and artistically achieved, these fractures. Two perfect spirals one several beats above the other. Well at least I know how to injure myself in an artistically achieved, aesthetically pleasing way; seems about right for a former ballerina. I'm sure my teachers would be proud. If you're going to screw up do it full heartedly and with a smile attached for effect. 

What's next? Let's see...the morning of Christmas Eve Dan and I will be merrily skipping over to the orthopedic surgeons office, x-rays in hand, and Dr. Scissorhands will decide if he feels surgery is best or not. Yay, an early Christmas present for me. 

The podiatrist said that that the fractures were in good alignment, meaning that the surgeon may say nay to the surgery. Believe it or not, I'd rather have the surgery. I would feel more mentally eased having the surgery with less fear of re-injuring the ankle once the cast comes off. I used to teach and practice yoga everyday and when I slowly ease back into that lifestyle I'd rather do it without the fear of crashing to the ground, gripping my leg and screaming in pain b/c I felt a pop, twist, or snap.

Asanas one can do with a creatively carved fibula

So in a previous post I discussed "what is asana?"and answered that asana is an ancient Indian word we use in yoga to describe a specific pose or shape of the body, or the practice of coming into these poses. In a later post I spoke of my fibula as an artistic template for imaginative design.

Now, I will refer to which asana's (yoga poses) one can do with a broken leg! How exciting will this be! You see, while numerous yoga poses require placing weight on both legs and feet, there are still a ton of poses that only require standing on one leg (the good one) or no legs at all! As I refuse to ditch stretching alltogether during the month and a half to two months that my right fibula will be out of order, I will go over a couple of my favorite poses that those with a broken bottom limb, like myself, can still accomplish.

*the English name for the word will be given first and the sanksrit term will be alloted for in the parentheses that follow*
*these poses are more specifically for someone with a broken fibula. If you have a different dis-engaged limb please just read for fun and don't do something that will obviously further your injury. and of course contact your doctor blah blah blah before attempting these poses. Namaste*

One. Tree pose (vrksasana): standing on your good leg with all five toes pointing foward, keep the good leg straight. Proceed to lift the bum leg up bending the knee. Turn the knee of the bum leg out to the side and place the foot of the bum leg at the ankle, calf, or inner thigh of the good leg. Bring your hands to your heart. Enjoy fully breathing in and fully breathing out.


Two. Full Cobra (Bhujangasana): *this pose should only be done once your back is nice and warm, and I don't mean artificial heat-heating pad warm, I mean a little light work-out warm. Got me!?* Lay on your stomach with your legs about shoulder-width apart or even a tad wider if necessary. The tops of your feet should be resting into the ground, so your feet are basically pointed without doing any work. The hip bones should be pointing towards the floor so your legs are not turned in nor out. Bring your hands under your shoulders, while pressing your palms flat into the ground and spreading your fingers wide with your middle finger pointing straight forward. The elbows are bending straight up and not out to the side. With your chest and forehead still on the ground take a big breath in and as you breathe out fully press your palms into the ground and extend your spine long out of the hips. Breathe in once more and this time as you breathe out slowly elevate the chest and head off the floor. Keep the tops of your feet presssing into the ground. And keep lifting the chest until your hip bones are about to lift. You want your hip bones to stay connected to the floor for this one, so the flexibility of your back will determine how high your chest elevates. If you are able to straighten the elbows without scrunching the lower back then let the elbows straighten into the arms. Take several deep breaths in and out and then lower your body very slowly on the exhalation, allowing the elbows to bend more and more until the chest and forehead have returned to the floor.

Dr. I Don't Give a Damn says I don't need surgery

So it currently stands that I will not need surgery! Woo hoo! I am very excited....

So Dan and I went to the orthopedic surgeon's office on Christmas Eve morning. First of all it was packed and all the visitors, after providing insurance information and filling out the appropriate paperwork were lined up for x-rays. And, yes, I do quite literally mean lined-up! The door of the x-ray room was left wide open so that I was totally able to see the x-ray sessions of those in line in front of me. But it might as well have been this way, because this doctor was totally impersonal! In and out, in and out, he sent each visitor as if he was the uninvolved cashier at Whole Foods who would rather be anywhere else. Bagging our groceries and then sending us on our way as quickly as possible so the next visitor could sequentially give him his or her hard-earned money and then be shooed off in the same manner.

So, naturally my time with the doctor was approximately three minutes. During these 180 seconds that I was worthy, he tells me to stay off the leg for three weeks and start walking in the walking cast at the beginning of the fourth week. Then I am to come back to see him again, so I can give him more of my money and he can give me another 180 seconds to tell me how it's healed and whether or not I need physical therapy. Merry Christmas to you too Dr. I Don't Give a Damn.

I'm beyond irritated when we leave the office. I talk to my father in the car on the way back to Dan's and he reassures me that many doctors, especially surgeons, are not sympathetic like the more holistic health care professionals I am accustomed to working with. My dad, a doctor himself, explains that a surgeon's brain may be inclined to function like a mechanic's brain. "How can I fix this? What do I need to do?" Not, "How is she feeling inside? How can I be sensitive to her emotions during this uneasy time of physical disabledness?" So, just because this man had the social know-how of a tangerine doesn't mean he is not good at what he does and didn't give a proper assessment.

Okay, okay. My dad always has to be the rational one!

Well, this information did ease me slightly and once I got to thinking about the true outcome of my visit: I can walk in three weeks (meaning I can go back to teaching again in three weeks) I started to feel very happy and thankful.

So if all goes well, in three short weeks my one-footed hop will be back to a limp. And if all goes even better, a week later my limp will develop into a slow walk. And before I know it I'll be practicing again, beyond the realm of asanas one can do with a creatively carved fibula.

So Dr. I Don't Give a Damn, although his approach was perfunctory to say the least, perhaps without effort, gave me the news I needed to find peace of mind and enjoy my holiday. Now, that's yoga: moving forward with grace.

"Acupuncture, Lymph Drainage and Leeches oh my!"

Okay, so it has been made clear in earlier posts that I am a fan of Eastern Medicine, especially acupuncture. As time passed and New Year's approached I had been in my cast and off of my injured leg for two weeks and two days. My swelling however, had not gone down. Okay, let me take that back. My ankle swelling had gone down, thankfully, but the top of my foot was oddly very persistent upon keeping it's bloat. Well, better to have a bloated foot than a bloated other part, I guess. 

I was just so ready to walk and I had this idea in my head that, even though I thought Dr. I Don't Give a Damn was crazy when he first said it, I would walk by Tuesday, January the 6th. On this date I would have been in the cast and off my injured leg for three weeks. With only five days left to make a miracle happen I started e-mailing friends and googling like I've never googled before.  How would I get this blood puddle out of my foot and get myself in walking shape by Tuesday?

1) Lymph Drainage: this is actually a massage technique that is performed by a lymphatic drainage therapist.  When toxins creep into the lymph nodes swelling occurs. However, this somewhat passive, gentle, massage technique promotes a healthy lymphatic system by removing lymph blockages, and encouraging a free flowing lymphatic system. In a free flowing and healthy system, toxins are removed from cells and germ-fighting agents are delivered to cells that are infected with a virus.     

This sounds like a great idea but will it have me walking by Tuesday? Now that I have my mind set on doing the impossible, on something that I would advise anyone I love not to do, I feel like I have to work my own miracle and bust a move in five days!

It also turns out that it's a little pricy. I am after all a yoga teacher, and a non-working yoga teacher at that.

2) Leeches: this is funny because when I was first talking with Dan about the acupuncturist's said "blood sucking" method Dan said something like, "Why don't you just get leeches." Of course, he was being sarcastic, but my roommate actually said that I should try it, for real!  She warned me, nonetheless that I should look into getting my own, because some treatment centers in New York City charge some craziness like $600 per leech! Are you serious!?

I was intrigued enough to do some googling and here is what I found: (a) leeches are actually much more costly than a lymph drainage therapy session and I'm assuming the results are more instantaneous. Turns out that leeches go for about eight bucks a pop or even 7 bucks a leech if you buy them in bulk. A bulk purchase: that must be a lot of swellin goin on! Even better, turns out you can keep them in a fish-tank like jar for up to a year (which is their average life span) and simply change their water every three to six days. They don't even eat! Now that's a useful pet worth keeping around just incase. (b) Demi Moore now swears by leech therapy as a beauty secret to keep her skin glowing and youthful and detoxify her blood, promoting energy. Well if Demi, then me?

3) When all is said and done I'm sticking to my number one. Acupuncture is for me. Although, next time I have a horrible cold I may consider throwing some dough towards lymph drainage massage. And who knows, in about twenty years if I'm feeling my looks are diminishing perhaps a leech sucking session is in my future. For now, play me some chinese singing bowl CD's, lay me down, and poke me with some needles. :*

Wine Intermission....

My wiNe reView foR tHe weEk oF January 4, 2008

So this one is an Old Vine California Red Zinfandel of 2006 by Bogle Vinyards. It has a deep rich taste and a perfect balance of fruit and strength. Here is how the makers describe it:

        The old-head trained vines are unique because they produce a smaller crop of fruit that is unusually rich and concentrated. A wine that gifts intense blackberry, black cherry, and raspberry flavors, wrapped in a smooth blanket of vanilla and oak.

This one went perfectly with my leftovers from last night's dinner outing to Bamiyan, a delicious Afghani Restaurant at 26th st. and third avenue. I really like Bamiyan; it has a laid back atmosphere and optional floor seating, if you prefer a more authentic type situation. Their wine selection is limited, but eat you leftovers with a glass of Bogle Red Zin and you are good to go!

Feed your Yoga

It's been four and a half weeks since last walked without pain. I spend my days now, usually at Dan's place, reading, writing, watching movies, talking on the phone, cooking, eating and looking out the window. Dan lives on the top floor of his apartment building in Brooklyn. He has a great view of the skyline and the city. Sometimes I find myself drawn to the large window in his living room while he's at work and I'm alone at his apartment. I gaze out the window looking at all that is the city, all that I love about the city. I think about all the people walking around in the different parts of the city, down on the ground, by the buildings that I can only see the tops of.

Look at the top of that building; I bet down below there are a group of girlfriends trotting along to enjoy lunch at the newest, most hip cafe. Look at the beautiful upper structure of this building; I bet down below there is a happy couple walking and holding hands as they head out to shop in this beautiful snow. In a city where there are constantly tons of people walking around on the street, it's interesting to only be able to see the sky and the tops of the buildings above them. So many stories. So much going on outside. And I feel as though I'm trapped indoors.

The first three weeks of my injury my spirits remained high. We all battle against obastacels in life, and this is just one hurdle I have to pass. But after my failed attempt to walk and the end of the three week period, my spirits were sinking, and quickly. I am usually bouncy and up-beat, pretty goofy and smily. I like that about myself. I don't want to turn into a sulky Susan. But that is just what I was becoming. I realized I needed to do something about it and stop moping about.

My yoga practice means so much to me, and the ability to teach yoga and to guide a community of like-minded people through their own practices means equally as much to me. These are two things that I am not fully able to do at this time. But, yoga is so much more to me than these two facets of the practice. Yoga is all around us, it's everywhere. People uniting from all around the world during this past year's presidential election, that is yoga. Something as simple as opening the door for, smiling at and speaking to a total stranger can be yoga, if the intention is right.

I became a vegetarian about a year before I even began a yoga practice. Then, almost two years ago, when I really got into Buddhist philosophy I decided it was time to go full-on vegan. A dietary vegan is a vegetarian that follows a plant based diet but also does not consume animal by-products, such as eggs, dairy and honey. Lifestyle vegans follow the diet, but also take it a step further and don't wear animal furs and skins and don't use products that have been tested on animals. As a vegan, I felt more in connection with the universe, more in harmony with living things, than I ever have.

I know people who have been vegans for years and years and years, and although I don't personally know any, there are people who have been vegan their whole lives. I believe that everyone's bodies are different and that maybe some people truly need meat while others can be be at their optimal health on a vegan diet. I had been anemic for years even before I was vegetarian and after being vegan for a year I started to get sick and crave meat. So after being vegetarian for about four years, vegan for one year, and not eating red meat since I was a child, I returned to the carnivorous lifestyle just this last June of 2008.

Now it is January 12, 2009 and as I stand on my good leg, looking out Dan's window, I feel like I'm losing myself. I've lost the ability to do a full yoga practice as well.

But, wait a minute, what defines me and who I am? There is no beginning to who I am, no end to who I can be and no binds that I cannot break through. I will practice yoga through my diet, the way that I used to. I have been feeling for a little while now that I no longer need meat after these seven months. For so long I have known myself as a yogini and a vegetarian. For now, I will, once again as I have in the past, let the food I eat be a part of my yoga.

If yoga is the union of body, mind and soul, then I must return to the conscious way of eating that I have followed almost my entire adult life. I feel refreshed and just great about my decision to return to vegetarianism. I feel like I have taken back a part of my identity that I lost. And although, we are not our labels, and we are not our titles or duties, we are possibly what feelings these labels, titles and duties bring to us emotionally and spirirtually.

I feel great about returning to vegetarianism. And the mindful way that I eat, reminds me that I have the power to cure myself; that is yoga. I have the power to cure myself and I will make it through this.

So, my intention in writing this article, is not to tell you how to eat. This article really wasn't even about food. It's about finding your yoga in every way that you can. And by that, I mean finding your spirituality and letting it be a part of as much of what you do as possible. So that the YOU shines through in every situation, and every task. So as not to ever lose sight of who you are. So as not to ever lose sight of your beauty.

I will bring out the ferocious goddess within if needed.

Because Dr. I Don't Give a Damn didn't give me more than three minutes of his precious time, I contacted a different orthopedic surgeon; this orthopedic surgeon is the one that my podiatrist originally recommended but that I couldn't reach in the beginning. Luckily, several weeks later I made contact with the doctor's secretary and scheduled an appointment with him for tomorrow. I am excited, antsy and nervous all at the same time. What if the doctor says my ankle hasn't healed properly and that I'll be crutching around for another month? What if he disagrees with Dr. no damn's verdict and suggests surgery? I feel that I should explore all the horrible possibilities in hopes that I will be wrong, as I usually am, when predicting the future.

I know that physical therapy is soon to follow. Finding that doctors are not always the most passionate, sympathetic people, I decided to seek a physical therapist (PT) on my own without waiting for a doctor's referral. Tomorrow I will simply ask the doctor for a referral and tell him that I already found a PT. If that doesn't work I will demand one, which is out of my character but may be necessary, and I am thinking about even throwing a grown-up tantrum if he refuses to give me one. Even though I have not yet met this orthopedic surgeon, and I pray he is not as rude and nonchalant as the other one, I have learned that most doctors these days just don't care enough. A physical therapist will actually care and help me. I've got to make the switch over from docs to PTs even if throwing a tantrum is the only way.

I sent out an email to the 70 or so NYC yoga teachers that I have in my email database asking if any of them knew a physical therapist who is also a yoga teacher. I got amazing and timely responses from so many teachers. This is why I love the yoga community. There are so many caring and loving individuals that comprise the yoga world; it is a community incomparable to any other. Now, I have a full list of yoga teachers and advanced yoga students who are also PTs, yoga therapists and massage therapists.

I was able to make an appointment for next Tuesday with a woman who is a PT and a yoga teacher, who's office just so happens to be in the same neigborhood as my boyfriends's apartment, and who incorporates yoga asana into her physical therapy practice.

Now I just need that referral from the doctor. I am Kali, I am Durga, and I am not leaving that office tomorrow without that slip of paper!

Wine Intermission....

My wiNe reView foR tHe weEk oF Jan. 11, 2009

So, I loved the Campos Reales La Mancha 2006, which is a deep red wine from Spain. At only $9 a bottle this is such a great buy. While it's very deep and encompasses "long balanced tannins," it remains fruity and flavorful. We finished the bottle last night so I cannot taste it again to describe the exact aftertaste. I just remember that the aftereffect was fresh and satisfying. To sum it up, I loved this one!

Goodbye Dr. I Don't Give a Damn. Goodbye crutches.

Jan. 13th, 2009

Oh my goodness it feels amazing to walk around the city again; even if it is with the therapeutic aide of a walking boot. Trust me, I'm getting nowhere fast in this cast-like structure, but I'm walking with two feet and the crutches are gone gone gone! 

The orthopedic surgeon that I saw yesterday was soooo much better than my last "don't care doc." Funnily enough, he was not the same doc that my podiatrist recommended and whom I thought I had made an appointment with. Oh well. It was meant to be; Dr. Cares a Lot saved my day yesterday. 

I go in, antsy and nervous as all get out. The waiting room is pleasantly empty, minus two other people who are seated and quiet. Quiet is the first word that came to mind, whereas, Dr. I Don't Give a Damn's office was like a zoo or the ER, whichever one is worse. The two ladies working behind the front desk were both very nice. They greet me and as I fill out my paper work I hear them answering the phone and repeating the words, "The doctor is not in today. The doctor is not in today." I'm thinking to myself, "Ummmm, why did they not tell me that?" But there is a doctor in, just not the one that I thought I had made an appointment with. At this point, it doesn't even matter, so long as he is an orthopedic surgeon and lets me look at an x-ray of my ankle!

I go in and he's very nice and I explain my case and we take a bunch of x-rays and he actually gives me time to ask all of the questions I've prepared. To make a long story short, goodbye crutches, hello walking! I have to walk in this large, not necessarily easy to walk in, walking boot for two weeks. What do I care; I'm walking doggonnit! In two weeks I get an air cast, which is a smaller cast that can fit inside a shoe and therefore remain hidden from sight. Yes! I shall be back to teaching in two weeks!

My spirits were lifted as I WALKED out of the doctor's office and went to go meet my friends for lunch. I've been pampered from the cold by taking cabs everywhere recently; gosh, it's frostbite weather outside! 

After lunch, coffee, and a trip to Strand bookstore, I make it home and start reading over the latest issue of Yoga Journal Magazine. There is a brief story about a man who was sentenced to a wheelchair at age thirteen, after a tragic car accident that was fatal to his father and sister. Matthew Sanford, paralyzed from the chest down, began practicing yoga thirteen years after the accident. He is now an Iyengar yogi and teacher. And let me be clear that Iyengar training is no joke! It's like yoga college. He stresses the importance of enjoying the journey and not the accomplishments. Wow. I was just thinking about this the other day. I was remembering how my biggest worry before my injury was when I was finally going to stick a handstand (adho mukha vrksasana) without falling forward into wheel pose ( urdhva dharnurasana). Before my appointment yesterday, my biggest worry had done a 180 to whether I would ever be able to walk again--on two feet! 

The accomplishments don't matter. Get rid of the ego. You never know what life will bring, but if you enjoy the journey then you're living for each moment and making the most of the gifts you've been gifted. 

Matthew Stanford has written a book called, Waking: A Memoir of Trauma and Transcendence. This one will be one my next reads. I'll keep you posted.