To everything, turn, turn, turn

There is a season, turn, turn, turn.

So, 9 months. The time it takes to give birth, finish a school year, or read War and Peace. That's how long, as of today, that I went under the knife. And day by day I get an ounce stronger and a measure happier.

As with everything in life, there's room for improvement. The health of my family could be far better. Certain close friends could be struggling less. The grand jury could have returned with a just verdict in Ferguson. But this is the real world, and life isn't always just.

I've also been dealing with a pinch of survivors guilt lately. If you've been reading my blog you will understand why. But it goes a little deeper than that. As my mother and uncle's health deteriorates (my uncle is struggling after a liver transplant), and I finally start to see improvements in my health, it's difficult for me to temper my optimism and happiness. But everything in life is a compromise, a balancing act, I guess. So I choose to appreciate what I have, while I have it.

When I first lived in Santa Cruz a generation ago I became friends with Matt during our first semester at Cabrillo College. We were in the same creative writing class where we pieced together overly saturated words hoping to charm women with deep poetry and brooding short stories. He was the far better writer, and we embarked on a years-long battle for the attention of teachers we both had crushes on with our tortured prose. We've always remained in touch over the years, and despite any distance or time apart we made sure to reconnect and catch each other up on life's trials and tribulations. He moved back to Santa Cruz last year, eventually convincing his soon-to-be wife (not a lot of arm twisting there) to join him, along with her three kids, so he could be closer to his family and his young son. That and who wouldn't want to live in Santa Cruz, I mean seriously.

There were three places on my list of destinations - Lake Tahoe, Bend, Oregon, and Santa Cruz. Santa Cruz eventually won out based in large part to the close friends I had who already lived here, not the least of which are Matt and Jen. Since moving back we've spent more time together in the past three months than we have in the past three years, and I've had the opportunity to play uncle to his beautiful son, Benjamin (love that kid!). I've also managed to sucker Matt and Jen into early morning workouts overlooking the ocean, which they are crushing by the way. I'm determined to have these two lean and ripped by the big day.

Welcome to the gun show!

Feel the burn!

Yeah, Santa Cruz doesn't suck.

One of my favorite things in life is seeing people reach a goal - get stronger, get smarter, basically just attempt new things. Succeeding at something, no matter how small that success might feel at that moment...it makes me feel good to see the sense of pride in the face of the person stepping outside their comfort zone.

No matter where I might be a year from now, 10 years from now, I'm grateful to have this time in my life to share with good friends, and I plan to appreciate every moment and look back with not a shred of regret.

Sometimes life kicks you in the stomach. You've got a choice - You can lay down and curl up in the dirt, or you can kick back and say, "That all you got?" 

To kicking back, my friends.

I can't get no...Satisfaction!

A few months ago, my incredibly talented and beautiful cousin Fanny and I were talking about what it takes to feel satisfied and generally happy in life. She and I both subscribe to the 'less is more' philosophy when it comes to the 'things' we're told from an early age that we need in order to feel satisfied.

Owning a big home, driving a slick car, or having a lot of money mean little to me. I don't care about collecting stuff or having more than I need. OK, I don't need 5 bicycles, but it's better than 5 cars! But Fanny said something during our conversation concerning what it means to be satisfied that I'll never forget. I'm paraphrasing, but she basically said if a scientist is always satisfied s/he might not strive to discover cures for diseases. If an engineer is always satisfied we might never have planes that can transport people around the world at 40,000 feet. If athletes are always satisfied we'd never see what's possible with the human body.

After absorbing this nugget I realized that satisfaction is fluid, it's a philosophy, open to interpretation, and something I need to hold onto with a looser grip. I also realized that being unsatisfied with things is OK, it's normal, especially where my recovery is concerned. It doesn't mean I can't celebrate small victories along the way, and I can be happy with my progress, but being less than satisfied is what's going to motivate me to continue moving forward.

My ultimate goal since day one has been getting back on the bike. Once I can pedal with intent, I'll be satisfied, or at least that's what I've been telling myself. But I know when (not if) that day comes I'll probably look towards something else just beyond my reach.

I'm 10 days shy of 9 months post op, and I'm having a much easier time navigating life these days. Where I really feel a difference are in basic movements that we all take for granted. A year ago when I opened the fridge I had to be careful how I bent over to pull out a quart of almond milk. One false move and a few friendly volts of electricity might surge across my low back forcing me to go to one knee. But these days I'm bending, twisting, rolling around with relative ease. I don't have to think before bending down to grab a shoe, and lifting slightly heavy objects has become a non-event. There's still that ever-present tightness, but the sharp pain is a memory.

On halloween a friend of mine got married (to another friend), and she asked me to walk her down the aisle. I was floored and honored by her request, and happy to be a part of her big day. But I was also a little nervous leading up to the big day. It meant a long night of sitting and standing and (gasp) dancing. Maybe it was the beer and wine, but I felt pretty good all night and managed to work up a decent sweat on the dance floor...the first time I've danced in longer than I care to remember. It was also the first time in well over a year that I felt normal, part of the crowd, where pain wasn't the first thing on my mind. I'd forgotten what that was like, and I got a taste. Now I want the whole god damn meal!

Here comes the bride!

My activity levels have steadily increased. I'm still knocking out 4-6 miles a week in the pool and have incorporated TRX training into my workouts, but I've curbed the hiking for a while. Along with disc problems, I've had a lifelong sacro-iliac (SI) joint injury. A chiropractor I've been seeing locally told me he's only seen one other patient with an SI joint as damaged as mine. Not the first time I've heard that.

So about 6 weeks ago I underwent stem cell injections into my SI joint. The doc removed fat from my left flank and extracted stem cells from the adipose tissue. There's discussion amongst doctors as to which is more effective, bone marrow or adipose derived stem cells. Bone marrow stem cells require culturing to achieve a sufficient number cells, whereas adipose tissue provides about 500x the number of stem cells over bone marrow, and the process is much less invasive and less expensive. She also mixed some PRP into the stem cell cocktail and injected it into my SI joint. Doc said it takes 2-3 months before seeing any real results, so I've got some time yet, but she advised against doing any aggressive hiking while the stem cells did their stuff to let the joints heal, so I'm just doing 30 minute sessions on the treadmill at 15% incline along with swimming until my SI joint has strengthened up.

Ironically it's my mid back and neck that are currently a bigger issue. But I'm hoping that's just transitional and will sort itself out. Gone are the days of feeling like I've got a foreign object in my spine. Basic day to day movements cause me no grief, but sitting all day at work and standing for longer than 15 minutes causes discomfort, but not the agonizing pain I experienced 3 months ago.

So little by little my life is beginning to return. I'm not satisfied, but I'll never be satisfied, and I'm fine with that.

Peace out!