Greetings my loyal followers!
Things have been a little cray cray lately as far as my work schedule goes and I haven't had a moment to really put into words how things are going one year removed from surgery. So my apologies for leaving you hanging.
Overall...I'm doing OK. Still not satisfied, but if you've been reading my blog you have discovered that satisfaction is an elusive beast that I'll never tame. But let's look back before we move forward.
In January of 2014 I was basically immobile. I could move around, but not without that, 'One false move' sensation that followed me everywhere, threatening to bring me to my knees. While I've lived with constant back pain for my entire adult life, it wasn't until the beginning of 2013 that the real tremors started.
One day at work while playing ping pong (the perks of working in tech), I bent over to pick up a ball and experienced a twinge that stopped me in my tracks momentarily. I took a quick breath, pushed through the sudden electrical charge that nearly brought me to the floor, stood up, and acted like nothing happened. Of course we continued our game and of course I crushed my opponent. I mean, I was Boy's Club champion as a young table tennis gun slinger. You never lose it.
I look back at 2013 as the beginning of the end. There were numerous warnings, each falling on deaf ears. As I have for my entire life, I convinced myself that nothing was seriously wrong. It took 43 years, but I finally came to the brutal realization of what it means to truly listen to your body. Unfortunately, it took a paralyzing moment that is imprinted in my memory with the force of a mule kick to bring me to this realization.
While out riding with some friends on July 21, 2013, my back finally said, 'No mas'. While chasing my friend, Paule, I experienced what I've previously referred to as the sensation of a cheap velcro wallet being torn open. Every last breath of air in my lungs rushed out like stampeding bison and fire dripped down my left leg as I collapsed to the ground like a rag doll tossed by a child through the window of a speeding car.
This is when everything began to unravel - joint by joint, vertebrae by vertebrae, disc by disc. Every injury, every fall, every high speed crash, every ill advised risk, eventually came knocking on my front door for back pay on a lifetime of tempting fate.
Last week I celebrated my one year anniversary with Marlene. And I've been thinking about the past year and a half and trying to be honest with myself about the actions that led to surgery and the choices I've made since. My doctor advised me to let pain be my guide. I've heard this phrase countless times, but telling a person who hasn't lived a day without pain for over 20 years to use pain as a guide is like telling a junkie to use the DT's as a guide for withdrawal. So I did what I've always done, and I can now admit that I pushed way too hard after surgery.
I was told not to bend at the waist for 3 months. Three weeks after surgery I was trying to get into downward dog. Five weeks after surgery I was out hiking on trails. And eight weeks after surgery I was laying flat on my back after a series of mind numbing spasms. So much for well laid plans.
I've had a number of set backs throughout my recovery, and I've dealt with depression on a level I've never experienced. And while I forced myself to keep moving forward I've allowed myself to be depressed, knowing it, like everything else in life, is temporary.
Now this is going to sound like foolish superstition, but every time I said I'm feeling better, I would feel like crap for the next few days. Coincidence? All in my head? Who knows. But like clockwork, within a day or two of claiming to feel good I'd get smacked in the face with a double dose of pain that sidelined me for a few days and got my brain all kinds of scrambled.
So instead of glowing about my progress, I'll just state in matter of fact terms where I'm at.
A couple weeks ago I pedaled a bike for the first time in 19 months. My back was cranky, but my head exploded with happiness. I don't think I stopped smiling the entire ride. Since then I've ridden several times, including a 15 mile ride yesterday in glorious rain, with a decent amount of climbing. I was tight, and my SI joints were tingling when I got home, but after a good stretch, and some light TRX exercises, I felt well enough to join some friends at a party afterwards where pain wasn't the first thing on my mind.
I'm also able to push as hard as I want and for as long as I want in the pool. I usually last about 45 minutes before I start to get bored, but rather than focus on length of workouts, I simply focus on movement without worrying about distance.
My TRX workouts are evolving and I'm incorporating more and new exercises to help expand my range of motion and strength. I've also started one on one yoga instruction with a wonderful instructor that is reintroducing me to yoga in a safe and positive setting.
I'm essentially living my day to day life with a sense of normalcy that has been out of reach for the past year and a half. But where I notice the changes most are in simple movements we all take for granted. Before surgery, when I wanted something form the fridge I would need to get down on one knee before pulling out a carton of almond milk. If I wanted to turn over in bed I would need to focus carefully on how I rolled over, taking special care not to twist my torso. Even stepping off a curb presented challenges that I no longer worry about. My body wants to move more naturally now, and I don't need to first think about how I move, before I move. And for this I'm grateful.
While I'm not preparing to run a marathon, I don't hesitate before running up a flight of stairs or bending over to grab the cat. There is still that ever-present pressure at the base of my spine, but it's not as daunting as it's been in the past. It's not preventing me from enjoying my life, but it's still there, lingering, letting me know we're still not done. But if I have to be truly honest about my progress, I've made massive strides in the past year compared to where I was at the beginning of 2014.. But there's still a mountain of progress to me made.
I credit the stem cell injections with really kick starting things a few months ago, and I'm scheduled for another round of injections next month to pile on the healing even more.
Time is healing. And time ain't no thing but a chicken wing.
Peace!
