Tomorrow I'll complete 45 trips around the sun. It's customary for people to congratulate you on your birthday as if you actually earned something. I've always found it strange when someone offers ME a hearty congratulations, when the person they should really applaud is my mom. She's the one who forced a watermelon out of her uterus. So mom, congratulations! Forty five years ago you made me possible. You deserve all the credit.
So, it's been a while since I tickled you with my ramblings. Where am I? Doing OK, actually. As always, I'm never satisfied with my progress, but slowly moving in the right direction. I'm still dealing with this constant pressure that increases in severity with prolonged sitting and standing. But I'm able to lightly sprint up steep hills during my hikes, and I'm easily knocking out 80-100 laps in the pool at a spirited pace. I've been occasionally 'riding' the stationary bike, and while it feels great to turn a crank (even if I'm not moving) sitting basically motionless while I pedal is difficult for more than 30 minutes. But I'll take what I can get right now.
For those who've read most of my posts, this thread of being unsatisfied pops up frequently. I don't mean to give the wrong impression. My standards of recovery are just a bit higher than some. Before surgery I was active on a level slightly above the average Joe. So my idea of 'getting back to normal' might seem optimistic to some, but it's MY idea of normal that makes it difficult to accept anything less. I'm capable of enjoying activities with much less discomfort now than I could two months ago, and I appreciate every gain. But until I'm on the bike chasing my friends through the woods I won't be completely satisfied.
With that said, other areas of my life are a bowl of cherries! The new job I started a few weeks ago is awesome. I've got the freedom to work from home, and the crew I'm working with are fun and easy to collaborate with. I love living in the Santa Cruz mountains! I've got an amazing group of friends here and meeting more people every day. I have an endless network of trails right outside my front door and each morning when I'm out searching for new trails I stop and soak in how happy I feel at this moment in my life.
I hope happiness finds you as well. And on your next birthday call your mom and say thanks. She earned it.
Peace!
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Sunday, August 24, 2014
Home Sweet Home
I'm all moved into my new place, affectionately called, "The Birdhouse'. It's a tiny cabin on a property in lovely Felton, California where several other people call home as well. In the main house there's a young newlywed couple with plans to open a Boba Tea shop, a talented musician, a bike rep, and a single mom and her 4 (and a half) year old son in another, larger cabin. The neighborhood is nestled into the redwoods and is across the road from Henry Cowell state park with endless hiking and mountain biking opportunities. Now I just gotta get my back ready for riding!
I report to my new job tomorrow morning. While I can swim hard and fast for over a mile and eek out a strenuous 7 mile hike, sitting still gives me fits. Being stationary is the most difficult thing for me to handle right now. So I'm not sure how I'm going to feel after a day at a desk. I imagine a lot of laps around the office during the day. While I'm not looking forward to the sedentary nature of work, it's been a while since I've been in the workplace, so it will feel good to shake the rust off.
Peace!
 |
| A home fit for a Hobbit! |
I report to my new job tomorrow morning. While I can swim hard and fast for over a mile and eek out a strenuous 7 mile hike, sitting still gives me fits. Being stationary is the most difficult thing for me to handle right now. So I'm not sure how I'm going to feel after a day at a desk. I imagine a lot of laps around the office during the day. While I'm not looking forward to the sedentary nature of work, it's been a while since I've been in the workplace, so it will feel good to shake the rust off.
Felton is next to Santa Cruz, a small town of about 6k people where downtown stretches all of three blocks. Quite a dramatic shift from Los Angeles. I went to school in Santa Cruz 25 years ago and it's incredible how little has changed in that time. This will be a perfect opportunity to slow down (if it's even possible to slow any further) and focus even more on my recovery. I'm looking at the next 6 months as a pivotal period in my life and look forward to the coming seasons of change.
 |
| Benjamin and I both agree...Santa Cruz rocks! |
Peace!
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Chapter 2
I escaped Los Angeles by the skin of my teeth! Dismantling LA is one of my favorite hobbies, I know. But I would be remiss if I didn't recognize some of the positive experiences that Los Aaanheeless provided me.
First, a little back story. I grew up in Santa Monica. Not exactly hell on earth, but I left after high school and found a home in the Bay Area that better suited my wants and needs. I was raised right down the street from Zephyr Surf shop, the birthplace of the modern skating movement and inspiration for the documentary, Dogtown and Z-Boys, and the feature film, Lords of Dogtown. I was a little grommet back in the 70's, and I idolized the older Z-Boys skate gods like Tony Alva, Stacy Peralta and Jay Adams, who basically defined skateboarding for a generation.
Zephyr Surf is now Dogtown Coffee. They serve a good cup 'o joe at DTC, and they pay homage to Zephyr and that period in time through their decor, but they're capitalizing on a time as if it's fashionable without truly providing a history of that time. But a fan recently put up a memorial outside the cafe for Jay Adams, one of the Z-Boys, who died recently while on a surfing trip to Mexico. While standing outside and staring at the memorial, a young couple next to me commented, "Who is Jay Adams?" It made me sad that anyone wouldn't understand the significance of someone who contributed to the local history, but it just reminded me that everything changes, nothing is permanent and we all keep moving forward regardless.
I came back to Santa Monica in the Fall of last year after learning that my mother had been diagnosed with lung and breast cancer. Thankfully it wasn't metastatic, but scary nonetheless. So I moved into my old bedroom in order to be there for mom while she went through her three surgeries and requisite treatments post op. It was a rough few months for mom, but she's doing pretty well considering. Unfortunately, the doctors detected two new spots on her lungs that have been determined to be cancer, so she's attacking this news with even greater determination. The good news is she feels great. The bad news is, the unknown. But she's active, exercises every day and continues to fight the good fight.
The past year has been a mixed bag of, well, to be blunt, crap! A year ago I tore some ligaments in my back that left me practically immobile. Then mom got hit with her cancer news. I proceeded to embark on 4 painful months of PRP and prolotherapy treatments, involving countless injections into my spine with very large needles and no anesthetic. Followed by mom's surgeries and treatments, and my deteriorating back, which eventually led me to Germany for disc replacement.
Two things happened in Germany that I haven't discussed on this blog. First, an incredibly tragic event took place that will forever shape how I view my recovery. I had a surgery partner in Germany. Another back pain patient who was also there for disc replacement surgery. He and I were scheduled for surgery on the same day, and we were both relieved and excited to have someone to lean on during our recoveries. Sadly, he never left Germany.
His name will remain private, as will the details surrounding his passing out of respect for his family, friends and his grieving widow. I was beyond devastated when I heard the news, and every day during my rehab, on every walk, and every step I take towards getting my life back I carry with me the hopes he had of regaining his life, being able to play with his son and spend a pain free life with his wife and family. I'm recovering for two people now, and I consider it an honor to shoulder that responsibility.
The other, and much less tragic yet still painful blow, occurred when my girlfriend at the time, someone who I considered above all else a true friend, suddenly stopped speaking to me and ceased responding to my messages...while I was laid up in a hospital 7000 miles away. I've since allowed my anger to fade, but the sting of being treated with no more regard than last weeks newspaper will last for a long time.
But wait, this was supposed to be about the good stuff I found, or rather found me, in LA. I joined a cancer caregiver support group at the Cancer Support Community Benjamin Center. The group consisted of a very diverse collection of people, all caring for loved ones with varying degrees of cancer. This group turned out to be far more than I had anticipated, and proved to be a huge part of not only my recovery in dealing with my mother's cancer, but also my own recovery from surgery and other personal issues in my life. These people are insightful, hold no judgement and truly want to see each and every person who attends find peace, strength and happiness. Listening to them share their experiences and offer advice helped me develop perspective and work through my own issues in a much more production and constructive manner.
I was referred to a massage therapist through my chiropractor, who himself requires about 10 pages for me to accurately explain his contributions to my recovery. But my massage therapist, Lana, also became an integral part of my journey in Los Angeles, healing me with her advice and opinions as much as her hands. She and I immediately developed a friendship that will continue no matter where I live and whose advice I will regularly seek out. Our sessions were part physical massage, part mind and spirit therapy. Lana, you healed me in more than one way.
Thanks to one of my t-shirts that advertised a mountain bike race I had competed in years ago, I became friends with Henry, a fellow cyclist who works at Dogtown Coffee. I would stop by DTC every morning on my way to the beach to grab a coffee or kale smoothie. I was in the thick of the post op pain and recovery, and not the friendliest guy to look at. But he saw past my blank stare and struck up a conversation after seeing my shirt, which eventually led to a friendship, and one that made my stay in LA that much easier to manage. Thanks, big Hank!
One of my oldest friends lives in Los Angeles on a slice of heaven in Highland Park near Pasadena. Julie, her husband Eric and their two beautiful and brilliant boys live in what I consider to be the most perfect outpost imaginable. They have created an oasis of peace and creativity that I didn't think possible in Los Angeles, but they give me hope that places like that do exist. And I was able to spend more time reconnecting with Julie and her brood that wouldn't have been available to me had I not found myself back in the City of Angels. So regardless what the circumstances were that brought me back, I'm glad I was able to use that time to reignite an old friendship.
My chiropractor, Dr. Charles Blum. What can I say. I'm walking again because of him. There aren't enough words to express my gratitude for all of the work he put in to straightening out my body. Thanks doesn't begin to cover how I feel. But a never ending thanks is all I have.
It was a long ten months in Los Angeles, and now that I'm in Santa Cruz, staying with friends while I prepare to move into my new place and start a new job, it feels like my time in SoCal went by in a flash. I'm creeping up on 6 months post op, and while I'm not yet ready for the rigors of the bike, I'm moving better, more active and stronger today than I was a two months ago. My optimism for my future flickers a little brighter, and my appreciation for what I can do rather than what I can't continues to grow.
I feel like the second chapter of my life is about to begin. And I'm taking a step back, reflecting on mistakes I've made in my personal life, with my family, friends, and using this opportunity to start fresh. My recovery is going to remain slow and require patience, but time is gift, and I've got nothing but time.
Ciao for now, kids!
First, a little back story. I grew up in Santa Monica. Not exactly hell on earth, but I left after high school and found a home in the Bay Area that better suited my wants and needs. I was raised right down the street from Zephyr Surf shop, the birthplace of the modern skating movement and inspiration for the documentary, Dogtown and Z-Boys, and the feature film, Lords of Dogtown. I was a little grommet back in the 70's, and I idolized the older Z-Boys skate gods like Tony Alva, Stacy Peralta and Jay Adams, who basically defined skateboarding for a generation.
Zephyr Surf is now Dogtown Coffee. They serve a good cup 'o joe at DTC, and they pay homage to Zephyr and that period in time through their decor, but they're capitalizing on a time as if it's fashionable without truly providing a history of that time. But a fan recently put up a memorial outside the cafe for Jay Adams, one of the Z-Boys, who died recently while on a surfing trip to Mexico. While standing outside and staring at the memorial, a young couple next to me commented, "Who is Jay Adams?" It made me sad that anyone wouldn't understand the significance of someone who contributed to the local history, but it just reminded me that everything changes, nothing is permanent and we all keep moving forward regardless.
I came back to Santa Monica in the Fall of last year after learning that my mother had been diagnosed with lung and breast cancer. Thankfully it wasn't metastatic, but scary nonetheless. So I moved into my old bedroom in order to be there for mom while she went through her three surgeries and requisite treatments post op. It was a rough few months for mom, but she's doing pretty well considering. Unfortunately, the doctors detected two new spots on her lungs that have been determined to be cancer, so she's attacking this news with even greater determination. The good news is she feels great. The bad news is, the unknown. But she's active, exercises every day and continues to fight the good fight.
The past year has been a mixed bag of, well, to be blunt, crap! A year ago I tore some ligaments in my back that left me practically immobile. Then mom got hit with her cancer news. I proceeded to embark on 4 painful months of PRP and prolotherapy treatments, involving countless injections into my spine with very large needles and no anesthetic. Followed by mom's surgeries and treatments, and my deteriorating back, which eventually led me to Germany for disc replacement.
Two things happened in Germany that I haven't discussed on this blog. First, an incredibly tragic event took place that will forever shape how I view my recovery. I had a surgery partner in Germany. Another back pain patient who was also there for disc replacement surgery. He and I were scheduled for surgery on the same day, and we were both relieved and excited to have someone to lean on during our recoveries. Sadly, he never left Germany.
His name will remain private, as will the details surrounding his passing out of respect for his family, friends and his grieving widow. I was beyond devastated when I heard the news, and every day during my rehab, on every walk, and every step I take towards getting my life back I carry with me the hopes he had of regaining his life, being able to play with his son and spend a pain free life with his wife and family. I'm recovering for two people now, and I consider it an honor to shoulder that responsibility.
The other, and much less tragic yet still painful blow, occurred when my girlfriend at the time, someone who I considered above all else a true friend, suddenly stopped speaking to me and ceased responding to my messages...while I was laid up in a hospital 7000 miles away. I've since allowed my anger to fade, but the sting of being treated with no more regard than last weeks newspaper will last for a long time.
But wait, this was supposed to be about the good stuff I found, or rather found me, in LA. I joined a cancer caregiver support group at the Cancer Support Community Benjamin Center. The group consisted of a very diverse collection of people, all caring for loved ones with varying degrees of cancer. This group turned out to be far more than I had anticipated, and proved to be a huge part of not only my recovery in dealing with my mother's cancer, but also my own recovery from surgery and other personal issues in my life. These people are insightful, hold no judgement and truly want to see each and every person who attends find peace, strength and happiness. Listening to them share their experiences and offer advice helped me develop perspective and work through my own issues in a much more production and constructive manner.
I was referred to a massage therapist through my chiropractor, who himself requires about 10 pages for me to accurately explain his contributions to my recovery. But my massage therapist, Lana, also became an integral part of my journey in Los Angeles, healing me with her advice and opinions as much as her hands. She and I immediately developed a friendship that will continue no matter where I live and whose advice I will regularly seek out. Our sessions were part physical massage, part mind and spirit therapy. Lana, you healed me in more than one way.
Thanks to one of my t-shirts that advertised a mountain bike race I had competed in years ago, I became friends with Henry, a fellow cyclist who works at Dogtown Coffee. I would stop by DTC every morning on my way to the beach to grab a coffee or kale smoothie. I was in the thick of the post op pain and recovery, and not the friendliest guy to look at. But he saw past my blank stare and struck up a conversation after seeing my shirt, which eventually led to a friendship, and one that made my stay in LA that much easier to manage. Thanks, big Hank!
One of my oldest friends lives in Los Angeles on a slice of heaven in Highland Park near Pasadena. Julie, her husband Eric and their two beautiful and brilliant boys live in what I consider to be the most perfect outpost imaginable. They have created an oasis of peace and creativity that I didn't think possible in Los Angeles, but they give me hope that places like that do exist. And I was able to spend more time reconnecting with Julie and her brood that wouldn't have been available to me had I not found myself back in the City of Angels. So regardless what the circumstances were that brought me back, I'm glad I was able to use that time to reignite an old friendship.
My chiropractor, Dr. Charles Blum. What can I say. I'm walking again because of him. There aren't enough words to express my gratitude for all of the work he put in to straightening out my body. Thanks doesn't begin to cover how I feel. But a never ending thanks is all I have.
It was a long ten months in Los Angeles, and now that I'm in Santa Cruz, staying with friends while I prepare to move into my new place and start a new job, it feels like my time in SoCal went by in a flash. I'm creeping up on 6 months post op, and while I'm not yet ready for the rigors of the bike, I'm moving better, more active and stronger today than I was a two months ago. My optimism for my future flickers a little brighter, and my appreciation for what I can do rather than what I can't continues to grow.
I feel like the second chapter of my life is about to begin. And I'm taking a step back, reflecting on mistakes I've made in my personal life, with my family, friends, and using this opportunity to start fresh. My recovery is going to remain slow and require patience, but time is gift, and I've got nothing but time.
Ciao for now, kids!
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
Still Smokin'
Sorry for the hiatus, folks. Well, things are moving along. As always, not fast enough, but still moving forward. I'm getting in about 10 miles a day on foot and incorporated stair work outs again. I started swimming as well, or rather splashing around like a kid with ADHD after sucking down a couple Cokes. My freestyle ain't pretty. I manage to get in about 40-50 laps before the back lets me know it's time to stop.
I'm still being taunted by this persistent pressure in my low back. It's a very familiar type of discomfort that I've beed dealing with for about 20 years, but it's not completely limiting me from getting out and living my life. I'm coming up on 5 months now and haven't experienced any sharp pain or numbness and tingling for a while, so I'm hoping that phase is behind me. That 'foreign object' feeling comes and goes. Some moments I feel light and airy, other moments I know it's there. I imagine this will follow me around for a while based on accounts from other ADR patients.
About 6 weeks ago I was able to begin stretching again, starting slowly and inching my way back to yoga shape. My downward dog is starting to look pretty damn good. I can bend at the waist and rest my knuckles on the ground, so the hammies and glutes are starting to respond. I can ease into a spinal twist that really helps stretch out my piriformis. Stretching, more than anything else, seems to really help with my recovery. And it just feels good to know that I can bend and twist without that fear of something 'catching'.
One big change is the work situation. I've been living the lifestyle of the not-so-rich and shameless on the beach for most of this year, and it looks like this extended vacation is coming to an end. I accepted a job that starts on August 25th. I'm not looking forward to sitting for long periods of time, which my job requires, but it will be nice to get back to work and start replenishing those pennies I spent in Germany. I'll be in Santa Monica for a few more weeks, but I'm moving to Santa Cruz for the foreseeable future. The new job allows me the freedom to work remotely, so I'm going to check out a couple other potential locations to lay my head. But for a while at least, I can be found traipsing around the forests in the Santa Cruz mountains searching for Sasquatch.
Peace out!
I'm still being taunted by this persistent pressure in my low back. It's a very familiar type of discomfort that I've beed dealing with for about 20 years, but it's not completely limiting me from getting out and living my life. I'm coming up on 5 months now and haven't experienced any sharp pain or numbness and tingling for a while, so I'm hoping that phase is behind me. That 'foreign object' feeling comes and goes. Some moments I feel light and airy, other moments I know it's there. I imagine this will follow me around for a while based on accounts from other ADR patients.
About 6 weeks ago I was able to begin stretching again, starting slowly and inching my way back to yoga shape. My downward dog is starting to look pretty damn good. I can bend at the waist and rest my knuckles on the ground, so the hammies and glutes are starting to respond. I can ease into a spinal twist that really helps stretch out my piriformis. Stretching, more than anything else, seems to really help with my recovery. And it just feels good to know that I can bend and twist without that fear of something 'catching'.
One big change is the work situation. I've been living the lifestyle of the not-so-rich and shameless on the beach for most of this year, and it looks like this extended vacation is coming to an end. I accepted a job that starts on August 25th. I'm not looking forward to sitting for long periods of time, which my job requires, but it will be nice to get back to work and start replenishing those pennies I spent in Germany. I'll be in Santa Monica for a few more weeks, but I'm moving to Santa Cruz for the foreseeable future. The new job allows me the freedom to work remotely, so I'm going to check out a couple other potential locations to lay my head. But for a while at least, I can be found traipsing around the forests in the Santa Cruz mountains searching for Sasquatch.
Peace out!
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Good luck, Drew!
During my recovery I've become friends with a fellow spiney who has had a long and arduous road to surgery. Right about now he's moments away from going under the knife in Barcelona to have three discs corrected with a combination fusion and disc replacement.
Good luck, Drew! See you on the other side! Bring me back some paella.
- I
Good luck, Drew! See you on the other side! Bring me back some paella.
- I
Saturday, July 5, 2014
What goes down must come up
I had intended to go out for a light walk and ended up doing some serious climbing. For the first time in a long while I can honestly say my legs are cooked. One trail in particular was about 900 feet of elevation in less than a mile. I've done more on the single speed, but since it's been the better part of a year since I've really exerted myself, that took some effort. As always, the climb up was much easier on the back, but the river at the bottom was worth the descent.
The good news is that my sacrum and hips feel pretty decent while hiking. It's my low and mid back that get cranky. But once I sit or lay down for a moment it seems to settle down for a while. It feels more muscle related than mechanical at this point, which is what concerned me a couple months ago. Muscle tension I can deal with.
I caught a fairly spectacular fireworks show in Scotts Valley with some friends last night. Living in the Bay Area you aren't accustomed to actually seeing fireworks as it's quite common for fog to role in this time of year in the evenings. In the 6 years I lived in San Francisco I never actually 'saw' a fireworks show. More like a cloudy glow. Unfortunately my camera was dead, so no photos of the pyrotechnics. But trust me, it was awesome! But here are some flags for ya!
So things are moving in the right direction. Setbacks are fewer and less frequent, and gains seem to be multiplying. Knock on wood.
 |
| A River Runs Through It |
The good news is that my sacrum and hips feel pretty decent while hiking. It's my low and mid back that get cranky. But once I sit or lay down for a moment it seems to settle down for a while. It feels more muscle related than mechanical at this point, which is what concerned me a couple months ago. Muscle tension I can deal with.
 |
| Here Kitty Kitty |
I caught a fairly spectacular fireworks show in Scotts Valley with some friends last night. Living in the Bay Area you aren't accustomed to actually seeing fireworks as it's quite common for fog to role in this time of year in the evenings. In the 6 years I lived in San Francisco I never actually 'saw' a fireworks show. More like a cloudy glow. Unfortunately my camera was dead, so no photos of the pyrotechnics. But trust me, it was awesome! But here are some flags for ya!
 |
| 'Murica! Home of the big gulp and land of the monster truck. |
I hope everyone had a great fireworks day!
Thursday, July 3, 2014
8 Mile
 |
| Indeed |
More like 8 and a half. I managed to manhandle my biggest workout yesterday. I eeked out an 8.5 mile hike with about 1500 feet of climbing. As expected, walking downhill is the hardest part, but the uphill climbs felt good. I'm very conscious of how I plant my feet and absorb energy on steep descents. Who knew your knees could act like shock absorbers!? I stopped and rested a couple times when my back tightened up, but overall felt pretty decent and was able to push off my feet without any pain. There were numerous short, steep hills and one long climb that forced me to elevate my heart rate. I miss feeling my ticker pump hard. Being winded is a glorious feeling!
 |
| Natures lawn mowers |
 |
| Room with a view |
Overall I'm pretty satisfied with my effort. I was very tight and stiff after the hike, but once I sat down and rested my weary bones I felt OK and was able to enjoy a nice meal with a friend in relative comfort. Exercise itself is less of a concern so much as the recovery, and once my back settled down after the hike I was relieved knowing I can handle such efforts and feel a lot better about slowly increasing my output. Operative word being slowly. Not taking any chances this time! I think that's called growth. Damn, I hate this getting old and patient stuff!
Now where's that Everest mountain place people say is tough?
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