The Background
I told you about my skiing injury a few weeks ago and, at that time I said that what I was concerned about the most was the loss of function more than the pain. That's still true but, to be honest, I'm not feeling very good at all. My right hip hurts a lot, and sometimes my whole leg hurts, mostly when I try to get out of a sitting position but also when I lie down or sleep or lie on my side or recline in a chair. Really, about the only position that feels ok is standing and I have to say that living life in a standing position is a little challenging. I eat standing up and, until today, I worked on my computer standing at our bar in our movie room. I watch television either standing or half-kneeling or curled up on my side in a recliner (which really doesn't work too well but it's better than the alternatives). When I get out of a car, I have to stand still for a few minutes and put a little weight on my right leg gently testing it. Once I can put some weight on it, I try to walk. The first few steps hurt a lot. But, after a few minutes, the pain fades to almost nothing. If I keep walking, I eventually don't hurt at all.
I've been dealing with this for a month and have come to the conclusion that I am in for a long haul and have decided to capture the process from injury to recovery here in The View. Writing helps me sort things out and I think that it might help some of you who may be struggling with something similar. I don't know how often I'll be posting my thoughts and experiences regarding my recovery - I guess whenever I have something to say. But, I will continue to write The View as I have been doing in addition to blogging about my injury and journey to wellness.
Fear
I'm nervous, no, really it's scared, about sharing what actually is happening and what I feel, go through, struggle with; the ups and downs. I don't want to seem like a wimpy, whiner kind of guy. I know there are a lot of people who face much more difficult circumstances than I do but if I just dismiss my own troubles by saying, "Well, others are much worse off than I am. I should be grateful for what I have," I'm hiding. I'm using others' misfortunes to avoid facing my own and then also avoid taking the steps I need to take to create a whole me again. So, part of creating a whole me is expressing what I feel, need, and go through. It's how you heal the mental and emotional injuries that always come with a physical injury. When you hold in your fears, sorrows, anxieties, hurts, these feelings get trapped in Emotional Debt (a term used by David Viscott in his book, "Emotional Resilience") and the only way you get balanced again is by expressing them. And, the sooner the better.
I realize now that I still cling to this irrational idea that I have to not only be nearly invincible in order to teach, write, and speak on the subjects of healing and rebuilding but also be able to solve almost any problem mostly on my own. This frame of mind isn't true, it's not reality, but that doesn't matter. What matters is what I believe and right now I'm really battling with the idea that something is terribly wrong and that I may not be able to fix it despite access to the right tools, people, support, and knowledge.
I'm broken and am struggling to admit how badly broken I really am.
So, where do I start with this thing? How do I get my life back? How long will it take? Will I end up in surgery? If I have surgery, will I forever lose the things I love to do; the things I worked so hard to get back into my life over the past 4 years?
The First Four Weeks
Well, let me bring you up to date first. The first two weeks following the injury, I just convinced myself that all I had was a sprain and I would be good to go in a couple of weeks. I argued, when a friend suggested I get an MRI, that at this point, an MRI wouldn't change the course of care. It was expensive and it was too soon. When my wife suggested that I might need surgery, I just blurted, "I am NOT a surgical candidate! I do NOT need surgery!" I just refused to even entertain the idea. I had an email exchange with a physician I know fairly well, explained what was going on, and he advised me on the medications to take. I had a Medrol Dose Pack on hand, having not used it from a prior illness, so I took that (Medrol is a form of steroid that combats inflammation). I got better in a few days and felt like I was going to be ok. So, I increased my activity level and in hind sight probably too much. I had lost the pain governor and did a lot more things: walking, squatting, and then jogging intervals on the Newton. But, after finishing the Medrol, which was for a seven day period, I suddenly was a lot worse. So, after two weeks went by and I was limping, and sleeping poorly, and unable to get out of a chair, I realized, at some level, and of course now I can see that I was really in need of help, that something was not right. I decided to make an appointment with Christine Springer, Director of Physical Therapy at Sports Center, and get some help.
I thought this was a big step for me. I was actually admitting I needed help. Unfortunately, it was more of a super small shuffle than a step.
Christine evaluated me and was very polite as I told her my diagnosis: hip capsulitis, possible disc injury (annular tear versus herniation) layered on top of degenerative joint and disc disease of the lumbar spine. It reminds me now of Michael Douglas in, "The American President" laying out his "plan" for his evening with Annette Bening. "First, we'll.....and then we'll..." I was clear on the problem and all she had to do was execute the plan. Does that sound like someone who wants help? No. But, she agreed, sort of, although I could tell there was something else that was troubling her. She didn't say it or at least I don't remember if she did at the time. She saved it for later.
I started rehab with Christine and followed the guidelines - I think. Honestly, I usually don't. I think I know better so in all probability, I stretched the rules a little or maybe a lot. Christine though was patient, kind, and considerate. She encouraged me and nudged me knowing that I like to feel in control. It took me another two weeks to decide to schedule an appointment with a neurosurgeon who I knew well and completely trusted. He wanted me to have an MRI before my visit with him. So, I was getting an MRI after all.
And, then I remembered and admitted to myself why I really didn't want the MRI done. I'm claustrophobic in the scanner and it just completely freaks me out to be in the small, cramped, dark tube listening to the harsh pinging and banging sounds. No clock, no idea how much longer it will be. Just trapped inside this tight space completely out of control.
I really didn't want to go. But, I did.
And, that story is for chapter two.
