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pregnancy

As I’ve mentioned frequently on twitter, I have achilles tendinitis. I’ve been battling with tendinitis all over my body for about two years after being poisoned by ciprofloxacin. I had a UTI that was resistant to the first antibiotic that I tried, so I had to be put on cipro when it turned into a kidney infection. Ouch.

After two years of high doses of ant-inflammatories  and an anti-inflammatory diet (3000mg fish oil/day, high doses of ibuprofen and vitamin C, less than 50g of carbs per day), the tendinitis was gone from my elbows, wrists and the arches of my feet. I had a nagging bit of it left in my left ankle but it no longer interfered with my day-to-day life.

…enter baby.

I’ve had to add carbs back into my diet, ibuprofen is a big no-no, and I’m taking 1/10th of the fish oil I was taking before. Combine that with extra fluid from pregnancy and my ankle is now worse than it’s ever been. I’ve been to my orthopedist who said to anticipate it getting worse throughout pregnancy. Sigh. I now have physical therapy orders, a frightening grinding/popping sound coming from my ankle, and this lovely walking cast:

Thanks to the ankle, I will probably be leaving work in April, May at the latest. I have no idea what I will do from then until July! My ankle will be grateful for the break though, and I’m sure my back will be quite pleased with that arrangement by then as well.

I also got this really sweet parking placard out of the deal. I cannot even begin to describe how much of a lifesaver this thing is in San Francisco! So, thanks for that, baby.

Someone needs to explain to my fetus that whiskey sours are an inappropriate craving. S/he seems to be in a perpetual state of 3am, post-club. All I’ve been craving is greasy junk food and whiskey sours. It’s like I’m 23 again but without any of the other joys of being 23. And of course, no whiskey sours…and I’m at work, not outside of a nightclub in the ass-crack of San Francisco.

All of the extra sour lemonade in the wooooorld is not alleviating this one. It’s been a week and a half now and I still think of them daily. I don’t even like whiskey sours. Seriously, Belly Monster? That’s how it is? It’s going to be a long trip to July.