Susan

Dehydration is the Devil!

That’s a direct quote from Junior. Both of us have had a lot of miserable experience with dehydration. This used to happen with me quite a bit with longer races and it was BRUTAL. Like HERE. But somehow, I did not put all the pieces together this last week and realize that it was the same exact devil. Loss of appetite, nausea, vomiting, sudden weight loss (I was pretty much losing a pound a day and was about 10 lbs down from 2 weeks ago), weakness, just FEELING LIKE DEATH. But since I was already feeling pretty deathish due to the bedrest and neck pain, it was hard to separate it out. It all felt like a version of the same thing. I thought I was feeling bad from various painkillers. I didn’t know which end was up.

But I remember how it used to be after races. I would be literally feeling like death, and then all I needed was fluid, electrolytes, salt. Chicken soup could do wonders and it was like a miracle had occurred. Like putting a dried out old sponge into water, and soak soak soak — voila.

That’s how I feel today. It’s a miracle! I’m ALIVE!

I’m back to my “baseline” which is: fairly OK lying down, more pain when I get up, but overall alert and feeling a lot, lot, lot better. A LOT BETTER! I actually WANTED and ATE a panini sandwich that Junior made for me and it was the most delicious thing ever. I’m on the way back.

It’s amazing what 12 hours of sleep, three liters of IV fluid and some antibiotics (for my urinary tract infection) can do.

October 22, 2013 9

Emergency Room, aka What Awful Suckitude

(blog post title credit to Ericka Lutz)

That’s what happened after a weekend of pain meds that didn’t work, vomiting, dehydration, low blood pressure, high blood sugar and general misery.

Junior brought me in in the morning and stayed with me, regaling me with tales of her 20-mile hike to a hidden hot spring over the weekend. It was hilarious and kind of like a Junior version of Wild. It kept me very entertained and distracted.

Nine hours of IV fluids to replace what I lost, intravenous morphine that only kinda sorta took the edge off, testing that revealed a urinary tract infection, and eventually coming home.

Praying I can stay in my own bed the rest of the week.

Looking like an Emoji with the X’ed out eyes

October 22, 2013 14

Another Week Down

Here I (still) am. It’s getting surreal, isn’t it?

This is what happened this week.

I had an epidural injection, hoping that it would cut down on the inflammation and give me some pain relief. I was nervous about it. But the procedure itself was not traumatic. The bad news is that it really didn’t give me any relief, either immediately or in subsequent days. So that was disappointing. To say the least.
I escalated the pain medications to even higher intensities. The result was about 4-5 hours of total pain relief, and about 2-3 days of complete CRAZY. I mean, I lost my mind. It really did a number on me. Like out of control crying, and a kind of paranoid panic and fear. I felt like I was disappearing. Dissolving. Maybe dying. I was an extremely unhappy little camper.
I stopped taking the heavy-duty pain meds.
The pain is worse. But I don’t care. I have my mind back.
I went for a neurosurgery consult. Because of the size and location of the ruptured disc, surgery is recommended to remove it, rather than waiting the 6 months for the disc material to re-absorb into my body. Mostly because of the profound weakness I am having in my arm. Nerve damage, if left too long, can be difficult or impossible to reverse, and this is my dominant arm/hand.
I’m going for another appointment next Thursday and hopefully will then be put on a schedule for surgery.
I am ready for this.

This has been an incredible experience, really. It is teaching me so much about patience. About understanding who I am aside from what I DO. It has taught me what it really means to conserve energy. The smallest things take so much energy; even lying on the back porch talking to friends wiped me out. I’m still learning.

I’m taking it as a gift to be able to read, to meditate, to sleep a lot. (a LOT) I love it when my friends come and lie down next to me and we just look at the ceiling and talk. It’s very comforting. But I can only take about one visit a day and it has to be very… low key.

When my mind is working, I can still write.

I have had pretty much no appetite. I think because I am burning about zero calories per day. I’ve lost weight. My muscles are thin and noodley. I think my muscle mass has pretty much left the building. I try to be my own home care physical therapist and take myself through the exercises I do with people who are in bed all day. I’m not sure if it’s helping or not.

Those goals I had — tomorrow night is the Grotto Litcrawl reading. It’s still up in the air. I’m going to wait until the last minute to decide. But there’s a BART strike. These events are notoriously crowded and intense. Energy wise, it just might be too much.

Sadly, the trip to Mexico is off. It’s disappointing. What can I say? There will be other chances out there. I’m tripping around my own private Mexico these days, wandering around inside my head.

I know beyond a doubt that this experience is changing me. It’s one of the most challenging things that has ever happened to me, but it is not the worst one by far. I’m learning a lot. In this small space, I am growing.

October 18, 2013 10

Answers, Waiting, and the New Normal

So I finally got some answers to this vexing pain last week. I went to see a spine specialist (orthopedist) who looked at my MRI and pointed out quite clearly that I have a ruptured cervical disc. The disc material is pressing quite intensely on my 7th cervical nerve, causing this crazy pain AND some weakness in my arm. It was upsetting to see this but also unmistakeable, and also a relief to see in black and white how much absolute sense it makes (all that PT training came flooding back). He has recommended an epidural injection tomorrow to try and bring down the inflammation and swelling. He said it will most likely result in dramatic pain relief (OH BOY! I can’t wait!) and then it will remain to be seen if there is continued weakness from any nerve damage. Then I will have to have a surgical consult, and I don’t like the sound of that, but I am just taking one day at a time, which is about all I can do.

This picture scares me. But if it's gonna take away the pain.... — This picture scares me. But if it’s gonna take away the pain….

It was a pretty rough weekend. Mr. McBody was away at a conference all weekend, and I had a lot of time and space to wallow around in a hazy painful cloud. It got a little surreal at times. I learned by Sunday that it is a good thing to try and keep a schedule. To try and be as functional as possible. I had some company come visit on Sunday and it made a HUGE difference to shower, get dressed and see friends for just a little while. I have learned that I have about a two-minute window from lying down to sitting or standing up, and after that time passes, it just hurts like the devil. However, assuming the “ballerina” position does take some pressure off. When I was at the doctor, he said that this is a classic diagnostic tool and he sees it all the time.

I was really upset when I went to the doctor on Friday, and they told me I had missed my 9:30 appointment. What! It turns out, in my narcotic haze, I had heard “October 11th” and I just kept focusing on the “11” part of it, and showed up at 11:00. But the doctor saw me in the waiting room, looking desperate with my arm over my head, and he squeezed me in. I think he pretty much diagnosed me from across the room, even before seeing the MRI.

It’s amazing how life can just shift from one version of reality to another. In the span of a few weeks, I have gone from being one of the world’s busiest people, to someone who needs to gather every bit of endurance and energy just to take a shower or get through a five-minute meal at the table.

It’s been a real opportunity for reflection. To really consider my priorities, my identity and what is important. It means a lot to me to be able to continue to write and read. I’ve been snarfing down books. I spent all day Friday reading Alice Munro. So excited about her Nobel Prize. I’ve also been able to spend some real time working on my own writing and editing, when I’m not knocked out by painkillers. I have been able to enjoy some pretty alert hours every day.

I started reading Dave Eggers’ The Circle, yesterday, and I’m almost done. It’s pretty mesmerizing, especially under the circumstances. Right now I feel like I would go mad without social media to keep me connected to the world. But there’s a balance. There’s nothing like human contact, face to face. There’s also nothing like snail mail. I got this awesome get-well gift from one of my writer friends which made me laugh out loud.

It is amazing to me how quickly a body can degenerate. Today I stepped on the scale just for curiosity and I am down more than five pounds. I am sure this is 100% muscle wasting. It takes all my strength to pick up a wet towel. I get shaky standing up even for a few minutes. I feel like I am just dissolving. But I also know that once this pain is managed, it also does not take too long to regain what has been lost. I’m not totally distraught over it, it’s just kind of remarkable.

I’m eating well, under the circumstances, even though I’ve had about zero appetite (I’m burning about zero calories, too). Before this all began, I had hired a Task Rabbit as kind of a “sneaky caregiver” for my mom. She often is lonely and bored in the afternoons, while we’re all (normally) rushing around working. I thought it might be a good idea to have someone help out with cooking a couple of times a week, with her involvement, so she has some company, AND so that we have some decent food to eat rather than some takeout on the fly. As it turns out, this person has been an absolute godsend. Whereas she was first helping out because I was too busy, now she’s helping because I”m just incapable. THAT part has been like a dream come true. I scroll through Foodgawker and send her links to things that look good, and voila- a few hours later there it is on the kitchen table. AND, my mom really likes her. It’s a win-win.

Thai Chicken Zucchini Meatballs – MMMMM.

The last few days have just felt like interminable WAITING. Waiting for an answer – and now waiting for a treatment. I really, really hope that this injection will do the trick so that I can get back to my life. But it will be “going back” in a different way. I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on my priorities. I don’t want to just be rushing around madly from one thing to another, just because I can. I want to slowly re-integrate the things that really matter.

I’m also zoning out a fair amount. I watched the entire first episode of Scandal, which I’m finding addictive, ludicrous and entertaining. Probably just the medicine. And I’m getting to be all long distance doting-grandma to Juniorette’s new baby. Everyone, meet Junie. Isn’t she adorable?

So, tomorrow morning I’ll be going to the Surgery Center and facing the needle. I’m ready. SO ready to turn some kind of corner.

October 14, 2013 8

It’s A Small (Small) World

Here's where you'll find me. All day. — Here’s where you’ll find me. All day.

I’m amazed at how my world has shrunk down in the past two weeks. Not so long ago, I was driving all over the Bay Area, often over a hundred miles a day, visiting my physical therapy patients at home, commuting to San Francisco to the Writers’ Grotto to write, leading my Weight Watchers meeting and doing a million errands in between.

All that has come to a screeching halt.

Now it’s a big deal to go downstairs in the morning for a cup of coffee. It is a much, much bigger deal to take a shower, wash my hair, towel dry, get dressed, dry my hair. That is like a huge, big ordeal. To have someone else drive me to a PT or medical appointment takes everything I’ve got.

I am grateful to still be able to comfortably use my computer most of the time. But sometimes even that is too much. And then it’s me and a book, or me and my dog, or me with my face up against my little iPhone which seems to contain the entire universe of everyone else going to the gym, working long hours, training for races and everything else that was so recently my Normal.

Is this the triathlete? Who could do a 5k any old weekend on the spur of the moment? Not right now, baby.

It’s hard letting go of that stuff. It’s hard realizing this probably isn’t going to be all better by next week. It’s hard shedding appointments from my calendar, over and over again. Tonight I had to miss my second Weight Watchers meeting and that just made me so sad. I miss my members.

There are still things to be grateful for. I still feel connected. I am still a part of the world, even though I cannot be in it in the same way that I am used to.

One of my dearest friends, a meditation teacher, sent this to me just now. A gift.

Breathe out all pain as black smoke with each exhale

imagine it completely dissolves into the atmosphere

Breathe in white light that dissolves into you leaving you with a relaxed comfortable body and peaceful mind.

do it with each exhale and inhale.

There are a couple of things out there in the future that I really do NOT want to give up on. One is to be able to read with my fellow Grotto writers at Litcrawl (part of Litquake) on October 19th. We’re going to read in a bowling alley! How awesome will that be. I really hope that I can manage that.

The second thing is my big, 25th anniversary trip to Mexico with Mr. McBody. We are scheduled to leave on October 27th. All I need to do is make the plane flight(s) and then I can lie down again if I need to. But I will be devastated if I can’t manage it.

So here I am. Physical therapy, rest, special pillows, ice packs, black smoke, white light. Exhale.

October 9, 2013 2

Exposed, Again

When I realized that this week was the 4th year anniversary of the Exposed Movement, originally started by Mish at Eating Journey, my initial reaction was to scoff and whimper, “No way.” I remember feeling pretty great about exposing myself when I joined the movement in 2010. I had been working on my health and fitness for about a year, and I was feeling confident.

This year, I could not be in a more different place. This week I have been debilitated by crazy, relentless pain, and the simple acts of showering or trying to eat a 10-minute meal sitting up have been excruciating.

But as I began to read – and be inspired and moved by- other “anniversary” exposed posts – Carla and Karen and Emily, Jules, Kate and Roni – I felt like, the biggest part of Exposing oneself is in the showing up. As is. And of celebrating what there is to celebrate.

This week, I’m celebrating the fact that I can still find a comfortable position in which to write (on my back, laptop propped on knees). When my writing is taken away, it’s all over. But I’m also contemplating where I’ve been SINCE that first Exposed post back in 2010.

Since then, I’ve:

completed two triathlons
managed to stay within 5 lbs of my goal weight, and remained on staff at Weight Watchers
kept on my committed path of trying to be as healthy and fit as I am able
been able to discontinue my diabetes medication completely (although temporarily back on due to all the anti-inflammatories I’m on)

These are all big victories to me. The greatest victory I see is that I have not given up, not taken a U-turn or stopped caring or acting in behalf of my health. I might not be the unstoppable, badass triathlete I was in 2011, but that’s okay. Here’s a picture I took this afternoon.

This arm-over-the-head position is the only one that is not excruciating when I’m upright these days.

I’m still here.

What would it mean – what would it look like and feel like – to expose yourself?

October 8, 2013 8

Six Things Pain is Teaching Me

I thought I knew pain. I had had my share of it — from hip arthritis to sprained ankles to gallstones and two bouts of childbirth. But nothing has been like the past two weeks of astonishing, electrifying pain that has nearly disabled my every activity.

It started so innocuously. There was an enticing looking trampoline in the back yard of a house we were renting to celebrate our 25th anniversary. I climbed on to bounce with friends, no more than a few minutes.

But the morning after that two-minute jump, I woke up and found that my neck and upper back felt stiff and tweaky, like I’d slept on my pillow wrong. I figured it would go away as soon as I started moving around and loosening things up.

I was wrong. I entered, for the first time in my life, a growing, debilitating, excruciating pain that just would not go away. By the fourth night,I wasn’t able to sleep in my bed any longer. I was up every two hours, crying, only able to find intermittent relief if I rolled around on the floor with a lacrosse ball wedged underneath my shoulder blades.

I went to an acupuncturist. It got worse. I called my primary care physician. I went to physical therapy, where I was iced, and electrically stimulated, and taped. I got prescriptions over the next week for muscle relaxers, anti-inflammatories, narcotics in stronger and stronger doses, laxatives to ease the constipation of the painkillers, and finally, a Fentanyl patch, which is what they give women in labor. I felt like I was in labor, and that I was going to give birth to a spiny creature through my upper back. This made me vomit violently, causing even more spasming in my back. I had an MRI, which took every ounce of meditation practice I had ever experienced. I took hot, neck-deep baths with Epsom salts.

I applied blue ice and microwaved, aromatherapy shoulder wraps. I got a plastic goose hook with a sharp beaky hook, and the only thing that allowed me to tolerate walking around was simultaneously digging that thing into my upper back, poking and clawing at the relentless spasm. A sweet friend came over and gave me a wonderful shiatsu treatment and when she left, I was comfortable lying on blankets on the floor. I dozed off feeling blissed out. But when I got up, the pain returned.

The only thing that gave me pure relief was regular doses of Percocet which allowed me to drift into comfortable sleep. The minute I put myself into a sitting or standing position for more than five minutes, the chewing, clawing sensation resumed.

I have learned many things during this Time of Pain. Things I never really appreciated until now. I learned that:

Pain is expensive. During this period of pain, I had to give up hundreds of dollars for concert tickets I had paid for. Nobody on Craigslist or Facebook wanted to see Jackson Browne as badly as I had. Ditto for a triathlon I had registered for (I went, driven by someone else, to cheer on my friends who had signed up to support me). Ditto for a hotel room I had pre-paid to stay in for a friend’s out of town wedding. It has added up big time, all these things I paid for when I assumed I would be active and well.
Pain is boring.Not only for me, wandering from one horizontal surface to another, but for the kind people who ask me every morning,”How do you feel?” and getting the same tired, dogged answer every time. “Not so great.” I wonder how long these friends will want to stick around when I am not the upbeat, active person I was before that damn trampoline.
Pain is on its own timeline. It seems like maybe it’s getting better. My husband (who has been a saint, and given new meaning to the words “in sickness and in health”) observes that at least now I am “comfortable at rest” instead of “agonizingly uncomfortable no matter what position.” But two weeks into it, I want to be better than able to lie around on my back all day. I need to get up and out and around. I need to be able to drive my car without crazy discomfort or narcotic wooziness. Pain doesn’t give a shit about my schedule, my calendar, my job or my plans.
Pain doesn’t show on the outside. After I employ Lamaze breathing techniques to endure a shower, toweling off, getting dressed and drying my hair, numerous optimistic acquaintances have exclaimed, “You look so much better!” But I am cringing from the stabbing red-hot poker that is assaulting that area between my scapula and my thoracic spine. They don’t notice that it doesn’t take longer than me for ten minute to end up on the floor again, seeking out the ball, the foam roller, the ice bag. I know that I looked “fine” when I was cheering my buddies on at See Jane Tri, but I was feeling terrible. I had to stop several times to roll on a picnic bench.
Lily rocked the tri. I rocked the cheering on. Sort of.

I had to lie down on the ball every few minutes.
Chronic pain is absolutely debilitating. I am a physical therapist. I used to work primarily with people who had endured years and years of pain. I think about them now. I think about how they used to relay their stories to me and weep. How I didn’t really understand the depth of the mental and emotional exhaustion that pain can exact on a human being. It has only been two weeks for me, but I see that this could be a long road.
Pain is mysterious. Nobody can explain, really, why it hurts the way that it does. Maybe it is a rotated or twisted thoracic vertebrae, out of alignment with a rib. Maybe it is a neuro-electrical loop that won’t close or stop. Maybe it is muscle spasm. Maybe it is the “moderate narrowing” of my cervical spine, pressing on my spinal nerves. Maybe it just IS. Many people can jump and fling themselves around on a trampoline to no ill effects.

As I write this, I don’t know how or when I will feel “normal” again. When I will be able to effortlessly bathe, or eat a meal, let alone drive around in my car all day and practice as a home health physical therapist. When I will be able to swim in open water, ride a bike or run a 5k race. All of these things are like dreams to me now. All I can do is take each moment, each moment of discomfort, to try and learn someting, try and find a shred of compassion for myself and this situation. All I can do is ask for patience and a bit of relief.

October 8, 2013 19

See Ito Tri

I’ve been looking forward to the See Jane Run Triathlon for a very long time. It sounds like heaven to me – it’s a sprint distance so not KILLER to train for (I hope!), it will be warm weather so maybe not wetsuit necessary? and it’s mostly women so it will be super supportive and festive. This will be my third triathlon, and my most important triathlon goal for this time is to HAVE FUN.

Up until a few months ago, this all seemed so very do-able. But the hip pain that started plaguing me in March threw a real monkey wrench into this plan. Suddenly it became difficult to walk, let alone run a 5k, let alone alone add a swim and bike ride into the mix. This has been bumming me out, big time.

But this week, things are feeling a little different. A little more hopeful. For one, my hip has been feeling a lot better. On a scale of one to ten, instead of feeling in the 6-8s, the pain has been in the 1-3 range. Which is much, much better. Pain is no longer waking me up at night, which is an awesome relief. And I have started experimenting, gingerly, with activity.

I think the combo of anti-inflammatories and some chiropractic treatment have been helping a lot.

This week I’ve been up in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina at a family reunion. I had had visions of myself just rocking away in a rocking chair on the back porch, but when people start talking about hiking to see pretty waterfalls, or going up to Grandfather Mountain (where my dad used to work, back in the day, as a traveling salesman), it has been very darn hard to resist. So I’ve been trying things.

Yesterday I did a pretty steep but not very long (an hour?) hike up to these waterfalls. It was so beautiful. I was so glad to be there. I waited for the other shoe to drop, i.e. for the hip pain to really punish me that night or the next day. It didn’t happen.

Today, I did some rock-clambering up at Grandfather Mountain and was treated to some pretty awesome views.

It’s going pretty well. I think the inflammation has been decreasing, and I’m straightening up my alignment, and, well, I’m just feeling hopeful. Plus, I got an encouraging clarification – that maybe I do not have osteoarthritis after all (yet), but rather a condition called FAI (femoral acetabular impingement). Which has different implications. I am going to get more orthopedic input next week, and let’s just say I am feeling pretty optimistic.

Tomorrow is my birthday. I am going to get a new bicycle. I am going to begin training as soon as we get home from this trip. I am going to do this triathlon!!

AND I WANT MY PEOPLE TO DO IT WITH ME!

I swear it is a very do-able distance (400m swim, 12 mile bike, 3 mile run/walk/jog). It can take as long as you need. I will be there. It will be an amazing time.

I have had the incredible experience of accompanying other friends to See Jane Run events for their first 5k races. There is nothing as special and exhilarating than those kinds of firsts, especially in such a supportive and positive environment. The See Jane Run organization really knows how to make women athletes, but especially beginning athletes, feel spectacular.

There was a time when I might have looked at a sprint triathlon as a “no big deal I can do that in my sleep” event. (Okay, that time may have been a period of about five weeks of my life, but still!) I do not see it that any more. It is a BIG DEAL. And a WONDERFUL accomplishment. But by no means impossible.

As a SuperJane Ambassador, the SJR folks have given me a 10% discount code to share with friends and readers, so that you too can experience the indescribable feeling of being a triathlete. (and for the non-swimmers, there is also a duathlon option: bike + run combo)

It’s going to be this October 5th out in Pleasanton. I want my buddies to be there! Please please consider doing this, even if you have NEVER even in your wildest dreams thought of doing a triathlon. I will train with you! Slowly! Little by little. We can do this!

I’m not going to be breaking any speed records with this one. It’s quite possible that I will be walking a significant portion of the “run” part. But I will be swimming. I will be on a bicycle. It will be a wonderful celebration of being alive and saying yeah, let’s do this.

Join me? The discount code is: AMBTRI

Click here to register. C’mon.

August 13, 2013 17

Stepping Away From Fear

To say that I have been walking on egg shells for the last couple of weeks would be an understatement. I have been afraid of doing pretty much anything.

It has been both interesting and a little overwhelming to sift through the mountain of advice and comments that I have gotten here, on Facebook and in emails and in person since I have shared my situation.

So many of the opinions are in direct contradiction with each other. Some people say do not wait, do it as soon as possible. Other people say do not let anyone cut into you. Some say to take herbs. Others recommend different medications.

It is a little challenging to find my own way in all of this but I know that I welcome the varying viewpoints.

Right now, this week, I am taking a medication that has given me the first relief I have had since March. Yesterday I took a walk in my beloved Redwood Park and it was incredible how happy I was up there in the music to be able to walk for 45 minutes –Without any pain.

On Monday I will be visiting a chiropractor who was recommended to me. At the end of August I will be seeing a new orthopedist.

For now, I am very grateful to get a full night’s sleep where I do not wake up from pain. I am grateful to walk in the park.

August 1, 2013 4

foodfoodbodybody

eat, move, think, feel

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