Who'da thunkit? Hiking makes me happy

And two months later, I'm back! Let's face it, I suck at blogging. I'll make a few posts in a timely fashion, then disappear for months. Deal with it and move on. :P

After completing our first 90 days of P90X a couple (going on a few) months ago, Robbie and I have had a hard time kick-starting our next round. We'll get a few days into it, hit a snag, and stop for a week...repeat. It is so hard to remember how GOOD you feel at the end of a tough 60-90 minute work-out when you are trying to start it after a 12 hour work-day. But let's be honest - that's just an excuse. If I really want to work out and get in shape, I will.

We've been talking since the end of last year about doing a 5k called the Warrior Dash that takes place in several states, including Georgia, every year (this coming year is only its third year here, so it's kind of a new thing). Anyone who has known me most of my life would know that it's a rather outlandish idea for me to be considering, but working on getting in shape has interested me in pushing myself in ways I wouldn't have seen before. What it all boils down to, really, is that I want one of these kick-ass pictures:

I mean, who DOESN'T want a picture of themselves covered in mud and leaping over a fire pit??? All joking aside, I really want to prove to myself that I can do something like this. So, on May 19th at 11 am Robbie and I will be in a 500 person wave starting the course. This gives me nearly 9 months to get serious about eating healthy and working out. I've been doing pretty good on the eating part...not so great on the working out. P90X is a hardcore workout series, but it can get boring standing in front of the TV every day. This is where the idea of starting hiking came in.

We went for our first hike ever yesterday at Mistletoe State Park, and it was quite the adventure. I luckily dressed appropriately (yay for Five Finger shoes), and Robbie carried snacks and water in a backpack. Being that this was our first ever hiking day trip, the OBVIOUS choice was for us to choose the longest and most challenging trail in the park. I was a bit apprehensive about bugs and spiders and plants (Oh, my!), but I eventually got better about screaming every time a spider web smeared across my eyes, or lips, or neck, simply because it happened SO OFTEN. We did pretty well for the majority of the hike. Near the last couple miles, every time we had to go uphill we were groaning. The last half mile or so was pretty rough as I thought my feet might just fall off. And don't even get me started on all the muscles in my ankles and calves that are sore today! In spite of everything, though, I have found something I believe I will grow to love tremendously. It was just the two of us working our way through the wilderness, sometimes talking, sometimes just enjoying the extreme quiet. There is a very peaceful quality to feeling like you are truly in the middle of nowhere when you can't hear any sounds of civilization.

Robbie is as excited about this new activity as I am. We got Camelbak packs so we can rough it in style as we start expanding our hiking horizons. I think he has at least 10 sites bookmarked for new places we can explore. And that's just around Augusta...there are so many trails near Atlanta to check out as well that we will be occupied for months. I figure if I could get through a 7 mile hike in the shape I'm in now, with a little cardio and upper body strength training I should be able to get through a 3.2 mile hell run/obstacle course in May...right??? And maybe my eyes won't look so brilliantly blue by then, because my face won't be fire engine red.

Eh, who am I kidding? That beet complexion comes naturally...all the better to bring out my baby blues!

You've won a trip to sunny Eufaulah, Alabama!

In my frenzy over chiggers the past few days it completely escaped my mind that I had been planning a post about my weekend picking up the girls with Robbie. It turned out to be quite the adventure...

I had been planning on driving all the way to Pensacola with Robbie to pick up the girls, and a few days before we got them it turned out his parents could bring the girls in the RV and meet in the middle to shorten the trip. Our destination was Eufaulah, Alabama (featured in the movie Sweet Home Alabama).

Sounded good to me...until I found out we were all going to be spending the night in the RV. I was somewhat apprehensive. I've never been much of a camper, and 6 people in an RV sounded a bit extreme. However, I figured you can survive anything for a night.

When we got near the campground Robbie talked to his step-dad to get directions and was warned that the place was a bit more "rustic" than they usually camp at. It was the only place they could find at the last minute without a reservation. An alarm went off in my brain at this point--especially considering we had just passed a GAS STATION with an ALLIGATOR PIT--but we kept driving. We got to the point where the GPS was telling us to turn, and it looked like a road to nowhere. There was an old rusted out factory, the road went over long-unused railroad tracks, and a hand-painted sign pointed toward the "campgrounds". We continued down the road and turned into the campground, looking for his parents' RV. We were somewhat horrified to see that although this was a campground for RV's, it appeared most of them had long since become permanent denizens of the site with more rust than paint, and mostly flat tires. We decided they couldn't possibly be here and kept going down the road to an even more ramshackle site before we got a phone call saying we drove right past them. Oh god...

We turned around, found the RV and got out to hug the girls. I had brought Kaya because this was a last-minute trip, and Robbie promised me there was no way his mom would bring their three dogs on a one-night trip. It turned out he was wrong and all three of them were there to greet us as well.

When we walked into the RV I nearly had to turn around and leave. There were suitcases EVERYWHERE full of stuff the girls had brought for their three weeks with dad. There was no way it was all going to fit in the back of my Fiesta so we got to spend the first hour there unpacking things and repacking what we would be able to fit. I was completely overwhelmed by the number of people, dogs, and amount of stuff in the space. It was all I could do to just sit quietly and not run out screaming. After that was done the girls went swimming in the "pool" at the campground. This was only after the locals who had rented it for a pool party cleared out... I'll be surprised if they don't get giardia.

That night while the girls were showering we ran to the local Piggly Wiggly:

and got ice cream and wine for me since there was just beer at the RV. Once I got some ice cream and chocolate in me the night suddenly seemed a little better.

After the girls were settled in to bed for the night I started drinking my moscato and Robbie and his step-dad cracked open some beers. I don't know if I was trying to escape my stress that day, or the odor from the cesspool under the neighboring RV (you could actually SEE when someone used the bathroom in it because it drained right out...they also had a little dog tied up out front), but either way there were suddenly two empty bottles of wine. I, of course, was by then in a fantastic mood and not at all concerned about 6 people and 4 dogs sleeping in the RV and had a pretty great time until I made it inside. Robbie seems to find the whole thing funny but I am a little mortified (particularly when I think of how it led to the Great Chigger Incident).

The next morning my stomach was suitably reproachful, and once we were again in the light of day the horror of our surroundings was back in full force. After a breakfast of Cookie Crisp (delicious!) we quickly packed up, helped get the RV read to go, and left Eufaulah in our dust. I am not against meeting halfway and staying in the RV for a night in the future, but there is absolutely no way I could ever stay at that place again. Good luck to the "young couple" that recently bought it to fix it up. They pretty much need a biblical flood to clear out the current residents and start anew.

Chiggers are bad, mmmkay?

This is a chigger:

We do have these loathsome creatures in the Midwest, as I've known my dad to be attacked by them on fishing trips, but I think in the South they have become some sort of superbug. I had my first run-in with the "berry bug" or "harvest mite" a few days ago when I had to make a mad dash from the car in a bout of sickness (not a shining moment). Robbie and I were in the middle of Alabama, with the girls, on some no-name highway and I raced through scrub brush about knee high to find a spot to relieve my nausea.

Several hours later I noticed tiny red bumps all over my feet and legs. Two days later they look like this:

Ignore how freakish my foot looks due to camera angle and allow your eyes to drift to the connect-the-dots decorations present. If you have never had this horrid condition I cannot fully describe the severe itching that accompanies it. The itchiness of your average mosquito bite in no way compares to the torture, and these lesions come by the dozens. I have literally scratched my skin raw in spite of efforts to stop myself, thus risking secondary skin infection (the most common sequelae to chigger bites).

I have learned a lot about chiggers in the past few days and thought I would share some of the more interesting facts (and clear up some common misinformation) for anybody who might ever have the misfortune of running into these beasts.

*Chiggers are actually Trombiculidae, a type of mite (related to spiders). They are frequently confused with the jigger, or chigoe flea, which is found in South and Central America (as opposed to the more temperate climate of the chigger).

*The larvae are the only parasitic part of the lifecycle, and after feeding they drop from the host to mature. This is contrary to the popular myth that they remain in the skin and can therefore be suffocated with clear nail polish (although nail polish can help remind us not to scratch).

*Humans are accidental hosts for the species that live in America. There are species of chiggers whose intended host is humans in Asia, and these do not cause the severe itching seen in chigger bites here.

*After exposure you need to take a warm soapy bath and scrub your skin to get the mites off sooner than their normal 3-5 day feeding. I did not know this, and did not do it, hence my severe response. Hydrocortisone cream can reduce itching, as can benzocaine or ammonium hydroxide.

*The severe itching is not due to the chigger itself, or the bite, but rather due to a digestive enzyme the larvae release that liquefies the tissue it contacts. This is what the chigger feeds on via a stylostome that forms (think of it like a straw they are sucking up your flesh milkshake with). The stylostome is what causes the continued itching through your body's allergic reaction to it. It takes ten or so days for your body to resorb the stylostome.


And there you have it; more than I (or you) ever wanted to know about chiggers. I hope it will serve you well should you ever encounter the little buggers...I know I will know better what to do next time. Of course, the best treatment is always prevention, so plan ahead when possible with DEET or some equivalent!

//edit: I also read that hydrogen peroxide can help with itching, and as I don't have hydrocortisone or anything else at home I just gave it a shot. It seems to be providing at least some temporary relief. We'll see how long it lasts!

What makes an adult?

I turned 27 this year and I often joke about how I still don't feel like an adult. I got to thinking today about adulthood, and what that invisible line is when one has gained enough [wisdom, education, maturity, life experience, wrinkles] for most people to look at you as an adult instead of a kid.

On a side note, my black cat Moggie (who is not known for being exceptionally affectionate) is bathing the inside of my elbow as I write this and it is beginning to hurt. She must have missed me while I was in Augusta for the past 3 days.

Back to the topic at hand. What makes an adult? When you turn 18 you are legally able to smoke, buy pornography, and die for your country. These are some very adult decisions. However, when these young people listen to this:

Most of the time I see this:

I just don't think you can look at an 18-year-old, even one choosing to put their life on the line, and say that person is an adult, regardless of the decisions they are making. And frankly, I think the average 18 year old is spending most of their time thinking about school or work, parties, and sex, and not necessarily in that order.

Ok so if 18 doesn't work, how about 21? You are getting close to finishing college or you are already working, and you can now legally drink. That must put you over the line into adulthood. Hardly! Robbie and I were at the pool yesterday and there were three young 20-something girls next to us talking loudly and with rude language and unnecessary detail about things nobody cared about besides them. We were wondering later if we were that annoying at 21 and my guess is that we probably were. Twenty-one-year-olds are like 18-year-olds on steroids -- still worried about parties and sex with legal drinking thrown in, and the misconceived notion that you are amazing and everyone wants to hear what you did last night.

That's really the last age milestone I've hit and thus have any real perspective on. What about life milestones? I did finish college (still felt like a kid), survived four years of graduate school (the big joke there is that grad school is like middle school all over again complete with cliques, gossip, and blatant immaturity), and am now a DOCTOR. As a DOCTOR you would think that maybe now I finally feel like an adult. But no, as I alluded to earlier, the vast majority of the time I still feel like a kid. I will say when I am at work playing a professional role, I do feel more like an adult most of the time. There are still some days where I feel like this, though:

I am sure that will become less of an issue with time (and more wrinkles). Outside of work, though, I still feel like a kid who happens to be living alone and making rent, car, and student loan payments. I haven't hit any of the other major life steps yet, either. I'm not married and I don't have children. However, knowing people who are in one or both of these positions, I can tell you that I don't think they feel like adults most of the time, either. Heck, my 35 year old boyfriend has children and was previously married and he is the biggest kid I know!

This brings me to the only logical conclusion. I don't think anyone ever gets to the point where they really feel like an adult. I think we go through life and eventually reach a point where we feel like we are supposed to be adults so we act like what we think an adult should be, worry far too much about work, and kind of stop having fun. I don't really want to be like this. As I have told my boss, I want to do a GREAT job taking care of pets at work, but when I'm not working that time is mine. If I want to read teen vampire fiction, or play Super Mario Brothers, or wrestle around on the floor and get carpet burns I am damn well going to do it and not worry about whether I am being unadultlike (I am using this word because if unladylike is a word then unadultlike should be one, too...).

I hope that when I do get married and have kids this doesn't change. I hope my children grow up with two parents who have a lot of fun in life and don't bring work home with them. When I have to act like an adult, I will, and if I don't feel like one at the moment I'll do what I think everyone else is doing - fake it.

A Lot Can Happen In A Year

If you had asked me at the beginning of my fourth year of vet school where I would be a year after graduation, I would probably have told you Omaha. I had no plans to leave the Midwest and was engaged to someone I had been with for 6 years. Here's a quick run-down of what happened since then:

*I went from panicking every time I tried to work on wedding planning, to planning to just get married in front of a judge, to ending the relationship altogether. He is a great guy, but meant for someone else and not for me.

*I entered into a relationship with someone I had become friends with playing a NERDY online game (This).

*I decided I needed to get out of the Midwest and live somewhere new, and thought Atlanta would be a good place...coincidentally, where said online gamer nerd, aka Robbie, lived. This was not an easy decision because as much as I liked this guy, I couldn't move somewhere just for that potential relationship. I had to think a lot about whether I could be happy in Atlanta alone.

*I met Robbie while interviewing for jobs in Atlanta. Here's a pic of our first date ever. :) Luckily, he ended up being even more wonderful in person than I could have hoped.

*I finally graduated from vet school and thus ended my 8 consecutive years of college.

*I moved to Atlanta in the 16 hour drive from hell (with a dog and 3 cats as travelmates), and began getting settled in my suburb of Fayetteville right at the time Robbie was moving to Augusta (a 2.5 hour drive) for his job.

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In 10 days I will officially have been working for 1 year. In that year I have learned a lot about my profession and about myself. It is true what they say in school - you learn more in your first year of practice than in the entirety of vet school. The motivation to understand/diagnose/treat diseases is much higher when you have a pet showing symptoms in front of you. I have worked with 5 different doctors, 2 of which ended up getting fired and 1 of which got transferred. I have met the whole spectrum of clients ranging from fabulous to eye-gouging. I had a client ask me to give him a rectal exam as my fingers were smaller than his doctor's.

I have been entrusted with a vet student's education this summer...so far she has gotten to see some amazing cases and some mistakes. Everybody makes them but it's how you respond to them that matters. I am mocked endlessly for saying pop, but I will not bend! It is NOT coke, it's pop, so stop laughing at me. I have been told by clients that I look like I could be their child, and asked if I am old enough to be doing this. Apparently if I looked haggard I would therefore look more trustworthy and knowledgeable.

I have survived my first threatened lawsuit and my first client education mistake (thankfully separate cases). I have had to learn how to not bring work home with me. I'm still working on that one - I frequently have trouble sleeping when I am worried about how a particular patient is doing.

I have, perhaps surprisingly, LOVED living in the South. The accent is charming, the people are polite (aside from the occasional extreme redneck), and I get to have conversations with strangers EVERYWHERE! Whether I am at the grocery store, Target, or the hair salon, everybody likes to chat and I love it. A character trait that always embarrassed me in my Dad while growing up is one I have now embraced wholeheartedly. I'm not sure I can ever live anywhere else, because that would mean I would have to give up good sweet tea and fried pickles.

The biggest downside to living down here is being so far away from my family. It was a little rough this first year, especially after they visited for Christmas. Robbie tells me it gets easier with time, but my aunts who live in New York and Seattle have cried leaving after every visit my whole life. I don't think it will really get easier. I know once I have children I would like them to grow up spending quality time with my parents, so I will likely need to consider moving back to the Midwest when that happens as I don't see my parents moving down here.

I've also been in a long-distance relationship with Robbie for over a year now. My work schedule accommodates fairly frequent visits so we see each other every 1-2 weeks, but that is becoming more difficult to deal with. It's something we are working on. Today we officially finished our first 90 days of P90X. I can't believe we did it. I know if I had tried it alone I wouldn't have made it past the first week, but as something done together it was not only possible but even fun at times.

That's about all for now. I am going to try to keep up with this pretty regularly although I've never been good at keeping a journal so we shall see. I wish I would have blogged my first year of practice as I would have had some great stories to share, but starting now will have to do.

Cheers,

Carrie