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Emilee

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Mischief Managed.
I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. #leakycon #leakycon2018
Y’all, check out my friend Baileys announcement!! I’m so excited for her and super pumped to watch this series she’s a part of! #Repost @catchingbreaths with @get_repost ・・・ The concept is simple: follow someone’s journey from surgery to stage. Showing the life of a mucus mutant. Showing the life of a bilingual Deaf family. Showing the life of a dancer and @companythreesixty dancers. It technically hits all the hashtags: #spoonie #deaf #adultballerina #bodypositive #chronicillness. It hopefully connects with many communities and provides another voice in the chorus of those wanting representation in media abound. It is positive: a positive network with a positive focus wanting to counter the negative swarmy troll farm that is most modern media to date. But... what if the concept becomes a reality? What if I show not just the recovery from latest rounds of surgeries... but the pain and swelling and funk between? What if I don’t fulfill some sort of diagnostic paradigm being that I am an Atypical diagnosis (and someone who hopes not to be defined by that anyways where I can)? What if we capture not just the invigorating process of putting together a show with women I ferociously admire and protect... but also, how totally messy dance life can be? What if we showcase a family that’s equal parts Deaf as hearing... yet our variable mix of signing, reading lips, caption and speech isn’t in keeping with what the world wants from us? Choosing to share our story has come with a lot of IFs... but we are braving it none the less. Although I can’t believe our pilot episode premiered TODAY and that I can finally announce the news... fear of judgement subsists. Can perspective, positivity and living an imperfect life as openly as possible actually be of benefit? The verdict is still out... but I’m excited to try. I’m excited to see. And I’m excited to get started.▪️Click Link In Bio To Watch The Pilot Or Go To: onlygood.tv▪️#CatchingBreaths
The builders weren’t out today, so I decided to have one last hoorah in our still empty, hurricane Harvey-Ed house. They’ve finally begun repairs, and I’m super pumped for it to be fixed, but also a bit sad at the loss of the house as we knew it and how it was growing up. Here I’m in our game room, the red wall is my bathroom, and to the right is my old bedroom, where I was the night before the storm came. The bed I slept on had ceiling and insulation fallen on it the next day. Still pretty surreal almost a year out. TL;DR I love my new @sodancausa dance sneakers I got from @cinqdanceessentials ! Super pumped for the new year!
We had a guest teacher in class last night. I wrote a blog post about it! Link is in the bio. (Spoiler. It was wonderful.) Thank you so much, @linds779 for teaching us! (Ps. My shirt is from @balletlibrarian ‘s book Cantique, you can totally still get ya one. It’s my favorite, obviously.) PD: photo of me and Lindsi Dec from Pacific Northwest Ballet after class.
Once upon a time, my toes used to touch the floor.

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Bump in the road.

Yesterday was the 5s class that has the separate pointe class with it. (So essentially, its the longer 5s class. Fancy words and diction is failing me. meh.)
I was slightly hesitant about the class, being that my knee was still being dumb, but hopeful that I could still make it through and it would be good.

Turns out I couldn’t plie at all on my right side.
Usually I can push through. Usually I can suck it up and just manage and make it work. Usually its not that big of a deal.
Yesterday was not a usually.
I tried anyway, but when it came to using the right leg, I felt my face grimace and tears well up in my eyes. The pain was shooting through my knee, under the knee cap, undeniable.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t panic. But Mrs. Alex could see all over my face that I wanted to. She told me, “You look so serious!” Or commented on how we looked focused and needed to have lighter expressions. Usually I can. Yesterday I couldn’t.
I didn’t cry because I wouldn’t let myself. I didn’t panic because I willed myself not to. I stopped and breathed deeply and every other trick I could think of. I shut off my brain and hoped I could still keep up with the combo because, ya know, my brain was off.
Mrs. Alex caught on. They know my knee has been messing up, and they’re really understanding. She said, “Don’t do anything more than you can.” To which I managed, “I can’t even plie.” And you could see on her face that she knew my pain.
Turns out the second half of class was nearly impossible. Eloise and I talked of our perpetual ailments and how we managed and what doctors we saw and who she recommended. It’s nice having someone who really gets it.

The class continued on, and I found I couldn’t do much of anything in center. Parts of it, yes, but anything that required bending the right knee past an inch was out of the question.
And beyond frustrating.
I stood in the back.
I watched.
I marked.
I laughed with Eloise when neither of us could do anything.
We watched.
We marked.
I tried getting the motion of the movement as if I were able to do it.
Anything that could get more ballet into my brain.

After class I talked to Mrs. Alex about it. We discussed options of what I can do and told her I might either be late to class the next day or not able to come at all depending on the chiropractor.
Ms. Munro asked if I was interested in helping with the baby classes that are packed.
I got in my car.
I cried.
Big huge tears, crying out to God because I need dance. It’s not just something I enjoy, it’s a necessity in my life. If I got to choose fixing my knee or fixing my internal issues, I’d choose knee. Because dancing helps the internal stuff and I can dance through that more easily even if it can be debilitating at times.
It sucks. It all sucks. And it’s not fair. But it is what it is.

I’ve been consulting Dr. Google today, trying to gain a better understanding of why my knee would be hurting. My assumption is that it’s because the right leg is the longer leg. So I researched a bit and found out there’s a muscle that runs through and connects all the important parts for the hip/leg. (lots of medical mumbo jumbo I don’t quite grasp enough to detail or summarize.) I read that everyone tends to have their legs a little uneven, and that it’s typically your dominate leg that is. (mine isn’t. so. that’s cool.) They say your muscles can get really tight and cause your hip to shove up into your ribs and make your legs uneven.
Oh.
Did my Chiropractor tell me this? I don’t know. It was an overwhelming day, and a lot was said. It’s possible he did, but it all seems new to me now.
The muscle that I read about is coincidentally the muscle that is the main storage for our response to stimulus. In other words, it holds our stress.
Oh.
On article called it the “trauma muscle.”
Yeah that sounds about right.
I found another article that detailed a stretching/strengthening/massaging regimen to help loosen the muscle and get the hips even again. I bookmarked it.

I’m afraid my chiropractor will talk to me like I’m stupid. Or tell me I haven’t done something right or enough or whatever. I’ve kept up with the stuff the Physical Therapist showed me best I can, but it doesn’t seem to be doing much. My back is better, it’s my knee that’s not now. And it’s given me trouble before, but nothing like this.
(and now, of course, my stomach started getting angry as I’m writing this. what the heck.)
I need answers, not criticism. I need understanding, not judgement. I need solutions.
I don’t care what I have to do. Last night I even thought how I would amputate the leg and learn to dance with a prosthetic (over lots of time and work, obviously) if it meant I could dance that way but now how it is now. If they told me I had to stop dancing because of my knees, then cut off my knees and give me a leg that can’t feel pain. I’ll make it work.

I’m frustrated. I’m upset. I’m scared and nervous and anxious.
I just want to dance.

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