1 year, 8 months, 0 days, and 2 hours...

Give or take an hour or two.

That's how long it's been since I got dirty.

I took the MotoX out to the Emma McCrary trail that connects downtown Santa Cruz to the vast network of trails behind UCSC. The trail isn't particularly difficult, perfect for beginners actually. But it's a fun, flowy trail with lots of small elevation changes and banked turns. It's about 2 miles long...two glorious miles of choice Santa Cruz soil surrounded by the redwoods. I never thought two miles could feel so joyous.

Gettin' Dirty!

Ain't no thing but a chicken wing

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!

In the immortal words of Tony! Toni! Toné!

It Feels Good!

Happy Birthday, Marlene

One year ago today we took out first step. And we're still stepping forward.

I rode a bike today...

And I liked it.

OK, before I say anything, yes, it probably wasn't a good idea to jump on the bike and start attacking hills so soon. And yes, I will pay dearly over the next few days. And yes, I knew it would hurt and have no one to blame but myself. But like a very wise man once said, "Sometimes you gotta run before you can walk."

It wasn't very long, maybe 8-9 miles, but it wasn't flat either. There were far more hills than I should have attempted right out of the gate. Steep, punchy hills that required me to stand up and mash. Surprisingly, my legs and lungs felt ok. But my back protested fiercely.

The real pain seems to settle in after I exercise, but once my body warms up the pain is bearable during the activity.  So based on recent patterns I expect some serious fire over the next couple days.

But was it worth it? $%#@&% yeah it was! The depths of depression I've been slogging through have been suffocating at times. So for a brief moment today my brain felt nothing but joy. And that should carry my for a while.

Bikes bikes bikes bikes bikes!

Peace out my friends!

I want candy!

Like most healthy teenage boys in the 80's I had a massive crush on Annabella, lead singer for Bow Wow Wow.  How does Annabella figure into my first post in over a month, you say? 

The other day I was pedaling furiously on the stationary bike at the ocean-view gym on the UCSC campus, rocking out to the 80's medley on my iPhone 3 that just refuses to die. I have a tendency to bounce around when listening to music, tap the bars, even belt out a chorus or two. If you know the song, the intro to 'I Want Candy' has a distinctive percussion sound that commands you to keep the beat.

While pedaling along to Annabella gyrating on the beach in my mind, a young student on the bike next to me waved his hand to get my attention. I removed my earbud and asked if there was a problem. He very politely and almost innocently asked me what I was listening to. I mentioned the song, which he'd clearly never heard of before. He was 18, 19 tops. 

Something about him struck me as genuine. He wasn't a smart ass kid messing with the middle aged guy at the college gym. He was just a nice, goofy kid trying to make conversation. Then he made a strange and confusing request. "You wanna switch?" he asked. I thought he meant the bikes, so I asked if his bike was broken. And he responded, "No, you wanna switch music?"

Normally I'd laugh off a request like this and keep on pedaling, but as far from left field as this kid came, he was oddly sincere. So I thought, what the hell. I handed over my iPhone 3 and he gave me his new fangled Android device, replete with contemporary rap and pop music. His choice in music seemed to represent the listening habits of the modern day teen, much like my vast collection of Dexy's Midnight Runners, Soft Cell and the Gap Band represented my teenage years.

With every song, this kid held up my phone and would either say, "This is a cool song!" or "I totally know this one!" He seemed excited to hear so many new-to-him songs, like he was discovering some dust covered records buried deep on a shelf in an old music store.

After around 20 minutes he jumped off his bike and we exchanged phones again. He simply said thanks, and scooted away. A strange, yet pure moment. 

Oh yeah, how am I doing? Pretty fucking decent. Still improving inch by inch and slowly getting my swag back. I just got back from a week in Amsterdam, and the flight out and back, while a bit unpleasant at times, wasn't a complete torture session. And as I progress on the stationary bike, it's looking like my goal of being on the road by spring is looking very optimistic.

To optimism, my friends!

Got tissue?

Three months ago I underwent a round of stem cell injections into my sacroiliac (SI) joints. If you've been following my blog you will recall I've also had a lifelong SI joint problem. It all came to a head about 18 months ago when I completely tore the joints while riding my bike.

Anyhoo, in the fall of 2013 I endured a series of platelet rich plasma (PRP) injections that didn't result in any improvements. This eventually led to my more serious quest towards surgery. When I first met with my Prolotherapy Doc she performed an ultrasound on my SI joints and literally gasped when she saw the images on her screen. "Oh my god!", she said. Apparently she had never seen an SI joint so severely damaged. A lifetime of crashing will evidently do a tap dance on your body.  Who knew.

Fast forward to Fall 2014 and my recovery from surgery wasn't improving at a rate I was satisfied with, so I contacted Dr. Alderman again and spoke with her about stem cell treatments. She explained that in some cases tissue can be completely devoid of cells, caused by repeated trauma where the body no longer sends healthy cells to repair a damaged area. Which explains why the PRP injections didn't help. PRP attaches itself to tissue only when there are cells present.

So she suggested we try stem cells, which is far more expensive, a bit more painful, but almost always more successful. Yesterday I met with Dr. Alderman to follow up and see how my SI joint was progressing. After checking out my joints under ultrasound she gasped again! But this time she was greeting with a much more pleasant looking image. In her own words, "You actually have tissue in your joints again."

I must admit, the before and after images from my ultrasound are pretty shocking. After being told what to look for, it was pretty clear that there was significant regrowth of tissue in my SI joint. She told me it usually takes a few months before patients start feeling real changes, and I'm right at three months. I've been slowly improving, and she said I will continue to improve over the next year. So hopefully 2015 will be the year of healing!

I'm still tight most of the time, and with the exception of this $#@!&%$ cough that's got my back tied in knots, my body is beginning to feel normal. I'd say it's feeling normal again, but I haven't been pain free in 25 years, so I'm feeling out this whole normal thing for the first time.

New disc, new joints. Two down, (fill in the blank) to go.

Peace out!