The View From My Couch: Heels of Happiness

 

At first glance this picture doesn't scream happiness or beauty.  My legs and feet could easily play the part of Jane Doe No.1 on CSI, with their sexy shades of deathly, bloated purple.  But for me it's beautiful. For me it is a reminder that every now and then I can be normal(ish).  Every now and then, I can give Bob the middle finger, and live life on my terms, if only for a few hours.

I recently went to a family wedding.  Those who read my ramblings on Facebook will be aware of my determination to wear heels to the wedding.  It's been four long years since I have been able to wear heels.  When you have Bob standing is not your friend.  Your balance is non-existent.  Even the tiniest heels are akin to walking on stilts. So really, on reflection, deciding to wear heels may not have been the sharpest choice I have made in life.

I practiced for days around my house.  Heels with my pjs.  Heels with my shorts.  Heels when I was sitting down or lying on the floor.  I watched my bloated purple feet squeeze out through the holes in the shoes as I did the elegant zombie shuffle whilst furniture surfing around the house.  I decided that regardless of the risk of snapping an ankle or flashing the bridal party with my undies when I inevitably went arse up, I was wearing heels.  (Thank you to all, including the bride to be, who suggested I wear my best undies, just in case.  Rest assured I grabbed out my 'special occasion' undies just for the day).  Over the next few days I improved from 'unco zombie' to 'drunken celebrity It girl walking down imaginary steps'.   I was proud.

Despite a pulse pressure that dropped down to single digits, days in bed, and visitors, I managed to gussy myself up and put on those heels and head to the wedding.  I managed to find enough chairs and luckily have a husband for whom holding me up is second nature, so I didn't flash my undies to anyone.   I walked/shuffled around the event, with no one else any the wiser to my weirdness.  I may have paid for it big time for the following few days and may not wear heels again for another four years, but I was normal for a few hours and that is precious.  Those mottled, bloated and aching legs and feet, squished into that sexy pair of heels are beautiful to me. 

Cheers
Michelle :)

Purple Misty Mountain Haze

Well my dance with FATigue continues this week.  So brace yourself for an underwhelming blog post  Damn Spring and it's fine sunny days.  You suck Spring.  You suck.  Mind you today's Spring day which is 13C of cool, grey, drizzly and fogged in (love living in the hills) is my kinda day.  Now if only I wasn't wiped out from the last two days, I'd be partying on down this fine misty day.

I do love where I live.  It's a truly beautiful part of Australia.  Who'd think we are already having our bushfire preparedness meetings. Yay.  Something to look forward to.

Just a couple of photos from today.

(The main road through the forest)

 (The forest at the end of my road)

(My road would look more lovely without the bins I forgot to take in.)

 (The view from my front door)

(This is my kind of Spring day)

I've been trying for ages to get a decent picture of my purple feet.  It's hard as usually, by the time they are bad I'm non compos mentis so grabbing the camera is not high on my 'To Do List'.  I think I finally managed an okay one this time.  This is after about 2mins with one foot up and one foot on the ground.

(Sexy? No?)

No one can ever accuse me of not having a colourful disorder.  My cardio always checks my feet when she comes out to get me in the waiting room.  I think they are nice and easy indicator on how my health is going.  Most days this is just my legs and lower arms.  On bad days this will pretty much be my colour from the neck down.  Dead sexy. 

(Just a hint of purple in my legs)

I mean there is a subtle hint of purple in my legs in my untouched Dorothy Shoes pics. Contrasts nicely with the red of the shoes don't you think?  Accessorizing is hard when you look like a giant aubergine.  Now if only I could get the eldest rugrat to follow me around with his airbrush as he did in the photos for the actual shoe post.

The purple bloating is something most Bobettes have to contend with.  Gravity is a tricky cow for our bodies.   I am getting better at ignoring it.  Its not going anywhere any time soon, so I might as well embrace it.  For the most part it's only when others point it out that I realise how bad it is.  I do know it's getting worse as my youngest rugrat now frequently offers to massage my legs.  He gets frustrated, as when he finishes one leg and moves onto the next the first one is already well on the way back to Zombieville.  But overall denial is a wonderful thing.  If I don't think about it doesn't exist right?

Well after that exciting post of nothingness it's time to go and prop my bloated purple feet up the closet wall and enjoy the misty day.

The foggy Michelle. 

I was going to add Prince's Purple Rain as my musical interlude as I do love Prince and rain and well purple is my colour, but apparently he's not keen on his vids being on Youtube.  So suck it Prince, you're a no go.  I'm going with the classic Purple Haze by Jimi Hendrix.