Back Down to Earth (and a little below)

I should have known things were too good to be true. I guess I just got caught up in the eupho­ria that comes with hav­ing my con­di­tion improve for the first time in over three months. I began to think I was almost back to nor­mal. Turns out I’ve for­got­ten what nor­mal is. I made plans to return to work and live a rel­a­tively nor­mal life once again. Well, I jumped the gun. Back to earth I came crashing.

The goals that I set for myself were, shall we say, realigned yes­ter­day when I met with my back doc­tor (I was sup­posed to have seen him two weeks ago but I missed my appoint­ment by a day – damn vicodin). He was impressed with the recov­ery I’ve made so far, say­ing I am where I should be. He added that I am set up for success.

How­ever, he fears return­ing to work too soon could jeop­ar­dize my long-term recov­ery. I still have a way to go and much work still needs to be done. My ham­strings are extremely tight – I can’t raise either leg more than a cou­ple of feet off of the table when lying down. This puts undue stress on the back. My left leg mus­cles are also still weak from the dam­aged nerve.

He even said I might need another cor­ti­sone shot! Wow, I hadn’t seen that one com­ing. He wants to wait and see if phys­i­cal ther­apy and con­tin­ued walk­ing can restore my nerve, but since I can’t take any anti-inflammatory drugs (aller­gic to the whole fam­ily of drugs), he might have to go back in with the needle.

Also, he (like me) doesn’t like the idea of try­ing to work while still on nar­cotics. He thought that in another month or so I might be down to just half a vicodin pill in the morn­ing and half at night – a marked reduc­tion of nar­cotics in my sys­tem from what I have flow­ing now. LightningBolt thumb Back Down to Earth (and a little below)

I have a myr­iad of emo­tions surg­ing through me right now. I felt some relief when I real­ized I didn’t have to go back to work next week. I was sur­prised to feel this since I had thought I was ready and was even begin­ning to once again look for­ward to work­ing (some­thing I didn’t have the energy to feel for quite some time). But I guess part of me always knew this was push­ing it.

Just yes­ter­day I felt quite sore and tired. A thought began to form in my head, won­der­ing how I would be able to han­dle work if clean­ing up the dishes was dif­fi­cult. I guess I quickly squashed that thought with a quick, “I’m just going to make it work.” Forc­ing myself to just do it, though, and not tak­ing care of my body dur­ing stress­ful times, is what got me into this mess in the first place.

I also feel plenty of guilt. I feel like I let every­one down, includ­ing myself. My wife, par­ents, and work all thought that I was going back to nor­mal next week. Instead, more of the same. While I know men­tally that I shouldn’t feel guilty – how was I to know? – I still feel pretty bad for it.

I’m also quite dis­ap­pointed that my doc­tors never indi­cated that recov­ery might take so long. It seems like they’ve done a poor job of man­ag­ing expec­ta­tions. I guess it’s hard to know the exact sit­u­a­tion that each patient will be in dur­ing recov­ery. Yet couldn’t they have at least explained the short and long esti­mates of how long it could take. That would have saved many peo­ple a lot of headaches when mile­stones that we thought were legit­i­mate couldn’t be met.

I guess I just have to take com­fort in know­ing that all of the pro­fes­sion­als I am in the care of tell me I am mak­ing good progress and should recover fully. Some day.

So many ques­tions. Too much to think about. It’s all very stress­ful. I bet­ter pro­ceed care­fully. My well­be­ing is at stake. I can’t let a change in plans and rise in stress make me for­get to do the only things that will ensure that I do one day get better.

Deep breath. Tighten abdom­i­nal mus­cles. Toe raises. Squats. Walk. Breathe. Think happy thoughts.

pixel Back Down to Earth (and a little below)

Comments

  1. Ann says:

    Sorry to hear about the reset, but hang in there! I’ll be send­ing you good thoughts!

  2. Ann says:

    Sorry to hear about the reset, but hang in there! I’ll be send­ing you good thoughts!

  3. Clynton says:

    Thanks Ann! Really appre­ci­ate your thoughts and wishes. I’ll get there one day. Then we can hit the trails together!

  4. Clynton says:

    Thanks Ann! Really appre­ci­ate your thoughts and wishes. I’ll get there one day. Then we can hit the trails together!

  5. AQ says:

    Backs are so tough. Doc­tors don’t have a good enough under­stand­ing of them to talk with real author­ity, and when they hurt there is no tan­gi­ble, mea­sur­able sign like a cast or a fever that other peo­ple can grab on to. You are doing a great job heal­ing, though. And the progress you have made is noth­ing short of huge. Even com­pared to just a few weeks ago. Just keep focused on that. And the fact that we will be blaz­ing along the trails before you know it.

  6. AQ says:

    Backs are so tough. Doc­tors don’t have a good enough under­stand­ing of them to talk with real author­ity, and when they hurt there is no tan­gi­ble, mea­sur­able sign like a cast or a fever that other peo­ple can grab on to. You are doing a great job heal­ing, though. And the progress you have made is noth­ing short of huge. Even com­pared to just a few weeks ago. Just keep focused on that. And the fact that we will be blaz­ing along the trails before you know it.

  7. Kitty says:

    I found this arti­cle linked through the Atlantic (http://www.theatlantic.com/james-fallows/). I real­ize this was posted sev­eral months ago but I’m won­der­ing how your recov­ery went/ is going. I had a microdis­cec­tomy to cor­rect a her­ni­ated disc at L5/S1 in Jan­u­ary (5 months ago) and still have resid­ual nerve pain, although it is SO much bet­ter than it was. I am beyond anx­ious to be run­ning again after over a year being out of being side­lined with this disc prob­lem. So far I haven’t been able to run for more than a few min­utes at a time with­out my nerve rag­ing for days fol­low­ing. It looks like you had some set­backs your­self, but I sin­cerely hope you’ve made progress since this posting.

    I am fas­ci­nated by the bare­foot run­ning phe­nom­e­non and con­sid­er­ing start­ing a walk­ing pro­gram using Vibram FiveFin­gers or a sim­i­lar prod­uct. Are you still run­ning with them? How are you feel­ing now? All the best…

  8. Clynton says:

    That’s quite sim­i­lar to the surgery I had back on August 11, 2009. It took me until Jan­u­ary to be able to do much with­out Vicodin and still not feel major pain. I ran/walked in the hills, slowly increas­ing my dis­tance from .25 of a mile after the surgery to 7 miles on my long run and once up to 26 miles in a week. I also was doing phys­i­cal ther­apy from Octo­ber through December.

    Once I resumed work, also in Jan­u­ary, I set­tled into a 3 mile trail run on Tue and Thu morn­ing and then a 6–7 mile trail run on Sat morn­ings. While I would feel a lit­tle tin­gling in my back, I didn’t expe­ri­ence much nerve pain, I am glad to say.

    I highly encour­age you to start a walk­ing pro­gram bare­foot or in Vibram Five Fin­gers or Vivo Bare­foots. I only wore super-minimal shoes (the two I just men­tioned) for at least 5 months after the surgery. I still do, but in my line of work have to put on my ‘high-heeled’ dress shoes once in awhile. I credit walk­ing with a fore­foot strike with help­ing my recov­ery. Though, of course, I can’t be exactly sure what dif­fer­ence it made.

    Start walk­ing when­ever you can bare­foot to learn what a fore­foot strike feels like. Then increase your dis­tance, still not run­ning. If that goes well, try 100 ft run­ning that way. Land­ing on your fore­foot instead of your heel, with a bent knee, under your cen­ter of grav­ity, I found, pro­tected my back from the shock of the land. AND, since I was much lighter on my feet with a faster cadence, there really wasn’t that much shock at all.

    A few posts that I sug­gest:
    > 12 Step Pro­gram to Run Bare­foot (http://bit.ly/cbioml)
    > The New Guide to Run­ning Shoes (http://bit.ly/cuKwsL)

    I wish you the best of luck. Please stay in con­tact as the thought of being able to help some­one suf­fer less from the exact same thing I went through fills my heart with joy!

    Thanks for stop­ping by.

  9. Clynton says:

    That’s quite sim­i­lar to the surgery I had back on August 11, 2009. It took me until Jan­u­ary to be able to do much with­out Vicodin and still not feel major pain. I ran/walked in the hills, slowly increas­ing my dis­tance from .25 of a mile after the surgery to 7 miles on my long run and once up to 26 miles in a week. I also was doing phys­i­cal ther­apy from Octo­ber through December.

    Once I resumed work, also in Jan­u­ary, I set­tled into a 3 mile trail run on Tue and Thu morn­ing and then a 6–7 mile trail run on Sat morn­ings. While I would feel a lit­tle tin­gling in my back, I didn’t expe­ri­ence much nerve pain, I am glad to say.

    I highly encour­age you to start a walk­ing pro­gram bare­foot or in Vibram Five Fin­gers or Vivo Bare­foots. I only wore super-minimal shoes (the two I just men­tioned) for at least 5 months after the surgery. I still do, but in my line of work have to put on my ‘high-heeled’ dress shoes once in awhile. I credit walk­ing with a fore­foot strike with help­ing my recov­ery. Though, of course, I can’t be exactly sure what dif­fer­ence it made.

    Start walk­ing when­ever you can bare­foot to learn what a fore­foot strike feels like. Then increase your dis­tance, still not run­ning. If that goes well, try 100 ft run­ning that way. Land­ing on your fore­foot instead of your heel, with a bent knee, under your cen­ter of grav­ity, I found, pro­tected my back from the shock of the land. AND, since I was much lighter on my feet with a faster cadence, there really wasn’t that much shock at all.

    A few posts that I sug­gest:
    > 12 Step Pro­gram to Run Bare­foot (http://bit.ly/cbioml)
    > The New Guide to Run­ning Shoes (http://bit.ly/cuKwsL)

    I wish you the best of luck. Please stay in con­tact as the thought of being able to help some­one suf­fer less from the exact same thing I went through fills my heart with joy!

    Thanks for stop­ping by.

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