Bali and the Biebs

So it's all coming together now. I see a definite connection. My knee shocks are directly related to Justin Bieber's criminal activity. Obviously. There's a pattern. Biebs gets busted for throwing eggs - knee freaks out. Biebs gets arrested for drag racing - knee has a conniption. Damn you Justin Bieber. My knee aches, obviously mourning the loss of his innocence. I was just about to send out a tweet to the Biebs: "@justingbieber Stop breaking the law you little prick #kneekiller" but then I had an appointment with Dr. M, who confirmed that, no, it is not Biebs' fault.

As it turns out, I seem to have a piece of scar tissue that's rubbing against my meniscus and perhaps stimulating a nerve(s), causing, "the shocks." Not much I can do about it, but I do have piece of mind that my fabulous cartilage continues to appear intact. Dr. M reminded me that although we definitely improved the situation with the transplant, my knee will never be normal. Flare ups are going to always be a part of life. Bummer. I was feeling so awesome that a part of me thought that this was all over. I kinda expected to walk into my 9 month follow-up with Dr. M, hug it out, and break up for good. Nope. There is no finish line. We'll be seeing each other for a while. That's OK, I guess. He's the best and he gets me and knows exactly how to talk me off my ledge. He reminded me that I'm still "me." I've been striving to be the Kirstie that I used to be - the active and happy person of 2011. I'm still Kirstie, but I'm a new variation of "me." I've changed - physically, emotionally, and mentally - which is what we're supposed to do. That's life. We're constantly changing and growing. This experience just kicked it up a notch...but I haven't lost "me." I'm still here. I need to sort out what my daily activity level is going to look like. It won't be what it used to be - that's unrealistic. I need to determine a level that my knee can maintain, without continuously crashing.

Apparently I can massage the knee scar to prevent it from getting worse...but who wants to massage their own scar? I thought I'd enlist the help of Evs so I set the mood: you know, had a shower and applied smelly lotion to my legs and so on.

"Hey...Evvy. Wanna rub my....scar?" I inquired seductively (ha! As If I know how to talk 'seductively')

Initially, he may have thought that "rub my scar" was code for something sexy. It wasn't. I literally just wanted help breaking down the scar tissue in my knee. Needless to say, he was uncooperative. And disappointed.

So despite the continuation of the "the shocks," I feel ready to embark on our great adventure. We leave Sunday morning for Bali. It only takes about 39 hours to get there, so we'll have lots of time to mentally prepare. Yikes. We're also battling with a last-minute conundrum - how to import our booze to Bali?? The hard alcohol in Bali is taxed at a very high rate, so a 26 of vodka can cost about $80! They recommend that you don't buy mixed drinks in bars, as some businesses in Bali are concocting their own versions, sometimes with methanol, to avoid paying the heavy prices. The methanol drinks have killed a few tourists, so that's not ideal. At all. We want to bring our own, but are struggling with the decision to purchase duty free in Minneapolis and pay duty twice, or hope that a duty free is open in Singapore between the hours of 12 am and 5am (our last layover). So, you know, we have a first world problem in a third world country. Haha.

But, honestly, I'm so looking forward to life in Bali for a few weeks. Every one of my friends who has been there has described it as a peaceful, spiritual, magical place. It'll be nice to slow down, enjoy great company, and have lots of laughs. I'm also looking forward to being underwater again, consuming my oxygen at lightening speed. What can I say? I love breathing.

Cheers!