The titles always get me down! Ok, I really do have lots to say, so I’m just gonna jump in. Saturday Brooke danced at a womens Christmas brunch for a church that is a few miles from here. The women were all so nice that we decided to try the church out on Sunday. We’ve been kind of thinking about finding a smaller church with a great kids ministry, and this seemed to drop in our laps. More on that later…
After Brooke danced, she and I went Christmas shopping. It was one of those awesome mom and daughter days. We had Starbuck’s and then ate at Chili’s for lunch. It was a great time, and we really did get lots accomplished.
Sunday rolled around and Brian and Zach got up before dawn to go hunting, so Matthew, Brooke and I went to the new church. We really, really liked everything about it except the fact that communion was not served. At all. Now, every church I’ve ever attended has served communion every Sunday, and it’s biblical. I have heard of certain churches that serve it on one Sunday a month, and special occasions, but I’ve never attended one of those. I was really bummed out about it, thinking that was a deal breaker for me, but wishing it wasn’t. I called the church yesterday and asked about it, and the secretary told me they always serve it on the 4th Sunday of the month. She said she didn’t know why, it’s just how it’s always been done. She offered to have the pastor call me, so I’m waiting on that. Someone told me maybe it’s a money thing, and I’d be glad to buy the stuff to do it weekly. I personally need that.
Monday rolled around and I had to take Brooke to an orthopedic surgeon. The same one that did my last knee surgery. She’s been having some knee pain, and with my history of knee surgeries, and my mom’s and grandma’s, I wanted to get on it quickly. I had really hoped that with all her dancing that she would have developed strong quad muscles, but I guess not. He diagnosed her with Osgood Schlatters disease, where the tendon is pulling on the growth plate because she is so active. Also she has tendonitis, patello-femoral syndrome, and patello femoral dysfunction. Which means that she has shallow knee caps like me, and her bones are not made correctly to hold the knee cap in place. He prescribed no jumping, (great for dance 4 x/week and cheerleading!), and physical therapy to strengthen the muscles more to hold the knee cap in place, and a couple of braces.
Last night was her first night of therapy, and it went well. Her knee was swollen so they used the doppler with an anti-inflammatory cream to help reduce the swelling, then she rode a bike for a while. After the bike, he took her back to the table and showed her the exercises he wanted her to work on at home. The memories of my surgeries and therapy came back to me at that point, and I felt so guilty that I was responsible for my precious daughter being in the same position. I started crying and had to walk away. Once I regained composure, I was able to go back and joke around with her while she was hooked up to the TENS unit. I now know how my mom felt, because I was standing in her shoes. I know it wasn’t her fault, and it’s not mine either. It’s just something we have to deal with. Luckily, we’re learning what to do to prevent future issues, and in a christian company! They had the Jesus fish on the door, a cross on the desk, and were playing the christian radio station too.
Oh, and Moday afternoon I had to go back to the oral surgeon to have the packing removed from the left side. It was really stuck. I had feared that, because it has been an issue with me, so I had irrigated before I went. The first girl couldn’t get it out, so she went and got someone else. She couldn’t get it either, so she irrigated it and started pulling again. Finally she said maybe they could try suction, so the first girl goes to get it. While she’s gone, the second girl finally gets it out. Man, does that ever hurt! They wanted to repack, and I kindly said NO! I would much rather suffer with the dry socket pain now, than have it packed and anticipate having the packing removed.