A Look Back at 2013

Whenever the new year rolls around, I'm usually not one to reflect on the year that was. This past year was a little different than most. This past year my life changed in a way I wasn't planning on, in a way I didn't want it to. I never wanted to become bionic. I never wanted to have to adapt to the "new normal". I don't remember much of how life was before I became bionic, but I miss it. I remember the days leading up to "the fall" in detail, but beyond that, I knew that we skied almost every weekend and worked a lot. I knew that we had a vacation to Mammoth coming up the next week and AT ski setups to buy. I knew that we had a lot of backpacking adventures planned for the upcoming summer. On February 23rd, I knew none of that was going to happen...

I don't really want to talk about what happened - I relive it enough when I close my eyes some days. If you live under a rock and forgot, here you go: Weekends Are Made For Skiing. 

Grateful

I know that I was very lucky given what happened. Falling 15-20 feet. Landing on 'concrete snow/ice'. I could feel and move my arms and legs (somewhat). I could feel the pain in my back. As much as it hurt, I could FEEL and somewhat MOVE everything. Mike reminds me from time to time that he's seen people die falling from shorter distances. My neurosurgeon reminds me all the time that they weren't sure I'd ever walk again... and that he refers to me as his "star" patient now. Things could have turned out a lot different, but I'm grateful they did not. Even on the roughest days, I am still grateful that I'm alive and walking again. People ask me how I can have such a positive outlook on things given how much my life changed. It's not easy, but I know how much different things could have been. I was dealt some shitty cards, but I'm making the best of it. I could have just sat on a couch all day and been "woe is me", but that's not who I am. As hard as it was being in the hospital and dealing with using a wheelchair and a walker for weeks, I was determined to fight. There were rough days, but I always dug deep and pushed through. I couldn't give up on fighting because that would be giving up on getting my life back. Never giving up and settling for what was dealt my way on that February day has me where I am now - back to hiking, back to skiing, back to my adventurous life. 

Highlights of the Bionic Year

A lot of people mention "the biggest moment of 20XX" when they do a year in review. I think far and away, the biggest moment for me was being able to take two tiny steps the morning after my first surgery. They weren't pretty, nor were they easy by any means, but I took two steps. A lot of people weren't sure I'd be able to walk again and there I was, struggling to hold myself up with a walker, taking my first steps less than 24 hours after surgery. I was in tears because of how hard it was to move my legs and not really being able to control my feet, but I was taking steps. I will never forget that moment. 

One thing I've embraced from this whole thing, is how sexy scars are. They tell a story, and mine certainly do. Oh the memories of the hospital... and the drain in my back.

These will be sexy.

Just over 3 months after surgery, and two weeks after ditching the cane, I made it to the top of Moro Rock in SEKI under my own power. No cane, no hand holding, I made it up all 400 evil granite stairs on my own... and I even passed a person or two! The view of the Great Western Divide was extra sweet that day. 

No cane. No assistance. The smile says it all.

On the 6 month mark, which also happened to be Dave's birthday, we decided to hike to Piute Pass and beyond. We'd been hiking most weekends during the summer, alternating between short hikes (less than five miles) and longer hikes (10+ miles total). Some trips went well, some did not. Sometimes it was my back/legs not being happy. Sometimes it was AMS bothering Dave. Sometimes it was the weather. Regardless, we were out in nature and I was loving it. Any time in nature beats being inside any day. The hike to Piute Pass was my first time over the Sierra Crest since becoming bionic, and was my longest hike to date - 12+ miles. I was so happy. To think that I was told by my doctor at Health South that I wouldn't be walking unassisted until the 6 month mark or so... and to turn around and be hiking 12+ miles by that time. I think it proved just how much all of my hard work and having a positive attitude paid off. Major props to Chris and the entire Tehachapi PT office for getting me back to my adventurous self!

Soaking in the views over Piute Pass.

With all the positive that happened with my hiking progress, we did learn that I wasn't quite ready for backpacking yet. There are many factors that could have lead to that - taking a few weeks off from hiking, returning to work which has taken a toll on my body, just having an off week, etc. Regardless of what the reason was, I can at least say that I tried it this year. That's more than most were thinking I'd get. All I can do is try again, and I plan on doing that. I can't stay out of the backcountry for too long... EVO is calling!

My major goal for this year, which some weren't a huge fan of, was returning to skis. Once the snow started falling, my body started itching to get back on the slopes. It finally happened December 7th, less than 10 months after my last time skis. As mentioned in the last post, The Return to Skiing, it wasn't under the best conditions and might not have gone as well as I had hoped for, but I was back on skis. I still have a lot of work to do to get my body back in shape for it and to get my skills and confidence back, but it's a step in the right direction. Some would have given up on skiing after what happened to me, but one thing I've learned through all of this, you have to "DO WHAT YOU LOVE". For me, that's being in nature - hiking, backpacking, and yes, skiing. 

The smile says it all.

The Adventure Continues...

With as crazy as 2013 ended up being, I'm looking forward to 2014. I can't say that 2013 was horrible, it was definitely a very trying year for me (and others), but I definitely learned a lot about myself. Do I wish February 23rd never happened? Of course! At the same time, even through all of the battles I had to deal with and new ones I am dealing with, I don't think I'd be as strong as I am today without the events of that day. I've learned to appreciate the small things more. I've learned to never give up. I've learned that it's okay to ask for help (many thanks to those that have helped me learn this over the past 10+ months - you know who you are). I've learned to look at nature in new ways now. I could go on and on, but I think it's become clear through this blogging adventure just how much this whole situation has changed my life and made me stronger. 

Here's to many more adventures in 2014... Cheers!

The Return to Skiing

Cleared to Ski!

I think saying that I've been itching to get back on skis is an understatement... maybe the understatement of the decade. I told Dave that we have to wait until I see Dr Levy and get X-rays to make sure everything is solid. When we were up in Mammoth before Thanksgiving, I was threatening to hijack the car, drive up the mountain (we were only in the Village), and go skiing. I was pretty serious, but knew I'd never overpower Dave for control of the Darth-mobile. 

The next 1.5 weeks couldn't go fast enough. I was nervous about getting X-rays. What if something had moved (I had an achy back for several weeks). What if I wouldn't be cleared for skiing. What if, what if, what if... WHAT IF?! Needless to say, I pretty much worried for nothing... the X-rays were amazing. Dr Levy said he was happy with how everything looked - especially given how active I had become since I saw him in June. He told me I was his "star patient" and I guess that's a good thing. We'll really see how things are when I get a CT scan in January.

Who's stabbing me with screws?!

The crazy spine!

After seeing the X-rays, the next big question was "am I allowed to ski again?" I had a little sinking feeling that maybe he'd say no, but he technically did clear me for doing whatever I felt up to back in June. I was very happy when he cleared me to "cautiously" ski (I'm sure all of my critics felt a disturbance in The Force). I was very happy and relieved to hear him say that. We talked a little about things to watch out for, but they were everyday warnings too - like don't twist a lot/do straight-line stuff, etc. Overall, I was very happy hearing the news and the weekend couldn't get here fast enough.

T-2 days and counting...!

I thought the weeks leading up to skiing again were long, try the two days between the appointment and leaving for Mammoth. Eternity. With the amount of snow predicted for the weekend, I was stoked. I couldn't wait to get there. I was excited... and very nervous. I was very nervous... and excited. I was nervously excited. Practically everyone knew I was going skiing and how excited I was about it. I got the standard responses - some thought I was crazy, some were excited for me, etc. Most were excited for me, but told me to be careful. I got the "with all the progress you've made, I'd hate to see you get hurt and not be able to walk again." I'm not going to lie, that is something that scares me about getting back on skis again. What if I fell and hurt my back again? What if I tweaked it while on the skis? There are a lot of "what ifs", but what if I never tried?! How would I feel if I never tried?! One thing this whole adventure has taught me is to "do what you love" and I plan on doing just that.

Time To Drop In

The day had finally come. After 9.5 painfully long months of rehab and being banned from skiing, we were heading to Mammoth! We decided to head up on Friday so we could go to the premiere of Drop In at Canyon Lodge. When I first saw the trailer for it, I knew we had to go to it. I'd been in contact with Jeremy and Alan about coming to see the premiere and wanting to meet. I was actually excited because they actually wanted to ski with me the next day - on my return to skis! If you have not seen the trailer for Drop In, I highly recommend it. If you have the opportunity to see the film, GO! It's inspiring. It will change your perspective on what is possible. It will remind you to DO WHAT YOU LOVE no matter what is thrown your way. With all that I have been through - the fact that I'm extremely lucky to be alive AND walking, the ridiculously incredible recovery, etc - this movie inspires me. It reminds me to DO WHAT I LOVE no matter what critics have to say. 

9.5 Months Later, It Is Time... Mammoth or Bust!

We woke up on Saturday to crazy wind, single digit temps, and 10+ inches of fresh powder! It was a sign. We were initially going to just rent gear at Mammoth, but with all the fresh pow, we stopped at Mammoth Mountaineering. I was finally going to get to demo the Dynafit AT setup that I was itching to get for months. The day was getting even better. We had our Manaslus and TLT6s and headed up the mountain. On the drive up, I could tell the day was going to be interesting. When we got to the Lodge, we got the bad news - most of the mountain was without power due to the wind (constant 30mph with 50+mph gusts). They had one lift open - Chair 11. I was in luck because that was the lift for two green runs, which is what I was planning on spending most of the day on. Trust me, as much as I wanted to jump on the Blues, I knew that I needed to get use to the feel of skis again and see how my body would handle skiing. As Dave was in line getting lift tickets, I was starting to get a little nervous.

When we stepped outside, I was very grateful to have so many layers on. The conditions were brutal - the wind was blowing me around. As I stepped into the Dynafit bindings, the oh-so-glorious Radial ST bindings, I was getting nervously excited. It felt good to have skis on my feet again, but it also felt really foreign at the same time. I was just really hoping that my legs were strong enough after all the nerve damage to still be able to control the skis like I use to... or at least a little bit. Before I would figure that out, I had to get on the lift...

Being brutally honest, I was freaking out a bit about getting on the lift. I kept telling Dave how nervous I was, but I'm pretty sure he didn't hear me because of how much the wind was howling. I was getting on a lift only 9.5 months after breaking my back falling from one, in the absolute worst conditions. It was reassuring that the lift operators were actually cleaning off the seats and doing their jobs, and that there was a safety bar on this one. I was on the lift, the bar was down, we were off. The wind was about 5x worse on the lift and I had to hide my face in my jacket because it was very sub-zero feeling, but I was on a lift! The flashback of falling started as we approached the top of the lift. I was taking a lot of deep breaths for the last few seconds on the lift. We got to the top, I got off, and I made it. I got back on a lift and did it in the most brutal conditions! 

What Goes Up, Must Come Down

Now that I had made it up, it was time to see how my body would handle skiing after a 9+ month break involving a lot of titanium in my spine, significant damage to the nerves in my legs, and weaker muscles. I think I was actually more nervous about the skiing than actually getting on the lift. I knew I'd survive the lift, but I wasn't sure how my legs would handle the skis... or how my back would handle a fall on the slopes. As excited as I have been about getting back on skis, I was nervous about the bionic back.

As I started down the slope, it felt a little weird to have huge planks on my feet, but at the same time it felt great. The winds were at least a little calmer on the run, but it was still almost a whiteout. At least there was fresh powder! I could tell that my leg muscles were significantly weaker than the last time I was on skis, which is because the nerves still aren't fully back yet, so I was having a few minor issues with controlling the skis. I think part of it was that I was just nervous about falling too. I took a sliding fall, and it wasn't too bad. I got back up, with the help of Dave's hand, and continued on. I was doing okay with the turns, but then I had a little issue with controlling my right ski on a turn and took a tumble that involved releasing the binding. I'm not surprised that it was the right ski because I tend to have more issues with the muscles in that foot (can't lift the big toe, but can lift the rest fine). I could tell I tweaked my ankle in the fall (not sure how), but my back still felt great. I got up, got back in the binding, and skied on. It didn't really go how I wanted, with the falling and all, but I did my first run back on skis! Dave even said I was looking pretty good too! We escaped the conditions for awhile trying to warm up and see how I was feeling. Dave went out for another run, and decided that the conditions on the lift made it not worth it. Shortly after that, the lift was shut down because of the weather. 

While most would think that the day was a bust due to the conditions, only one lift running and having it be shut down before lunch, I think it was a success. I got back on skis again... and a lift. That in itself is huge for me! We also ran into friends that were at Mammoth for the weekend and spent the rest of the day hanging out with them. Also, major props to Mammoth Mountain for giving us vouchers for another visit due to the situation on the mountain.

The smile says it all!

My Thoughts On Bionic Skiing 

I broke my back on a ski lift. In order to get back on skis, I would need to ride a lift again. 9+ months is a long time to wait to get back on skis for someone who fell in love with the sport last season. I knew that getting back on skis was going to be an adventure, but the past 9+ months has been an adventure for me. It might not have gone exactly how I wanted it to, but I did it! It's going to take some time to get use to being on skis again and getting my skiing legs back, but just as with the recovery process, it's going to be a journey. I know I'm going to have to be cautious and it's probably never going to feel the same as it did, but I'm back on skis again! I'm sure I'm always going to be a little worried about falling and possibly doing something to my back, but I'm back on skis! I'm back on skis again!!! One thing I've learned from this whole situation is to do what you love... that's what's most important. Others might not understand or feel the same way, but all that matters is doing what is important to you. I'm back on skis again, maybe skiing a little too cautiously, but I'm skiing!! 

Addressing the Skiing Critics

Ski season is quickly approaching in the Sierra Nevada. Mammoth Mountain opened this past week and I've been itching to get back on skis again because of it. To be honest, I've been itching to get back on skis again since last season was obviously cut short. For those of you wondering, I will NOT be going back to Badger Pass for a plethora of reasons (some addressed in the first post of this blog). Well, it appears that when ski season gets closer, my critics seem to come out of the woodwork. I thought I'd take some time to not only address them, but also share my thoughts on skiing again.

"You want to ski again? That's STUPID!"

I knew at some point there was going to be in influx of criticism about wanting to get back on skis. I could feel it in the air, maybe it was just the change in weather, but it was coming. It started with Mr Grumpy Pants at work. Before the accident he was always rude and grumpy toward me, but since returning to work, he's been relatively nice (asking how the back was, showing concern, etc.). Well, when he mentioned skiing last week, and I said I couldn't wait to get back on skis again, he called me stupid. Yep, I knew that being nice to me wasn't going to last long for him. It bothered me a bit, but that was his personality. That was just the beginning of it that day it seems. 

Later that morning, when two of my absolute favorite people and biggest supporters were at Bux (M&K), I got it again. No hesitation in it, just a huge "It is stupid!" when it came up. I tried to just brush it off, but this one hurt. Yes, people are entitled to have and express their opinions, but sometimes they are best left unsaid. This was one of those times. I've talked about my desire to ski again with K several times, including recently, and the only things I got were a change of subject or "would so-and-so want you to be doing that yet?" (It is well known that my neurosurgeon has cleared me for doing whatever my back feels up to.) I know that K hasn't been a big fan of the fact that I'm hiking again or wanting to backpack again, so this really shouldn't have been much of a surprise. It still really bugged me... and probably because she's been like family to me through all of this. 

While at the PT office later that morning, I finally sent K a message letting her know how I felt. I was sick of people criticizing me for wanting to get back on skis, etc. After I was done working out, I went over to K's office to clear the air on the subject. She didn't mean to upset me with the comment, but couldn't imagine what it'd be like for me if I fell, got injured, or wound up in the hospital again. I understand where she is coming from, but it was still tough to swallow. K has seen me come so far in my recovery, that it's probably hard for her not to feel protective (I would assume). It wasn't a long conversation and I didn't really say much. I knew what I wanted to say probably wouldn't be heard and would be best saved for a different time. Plus, I didn't want to say something off the cuff that I would probably end up regretting later. We hugged, I left, and sat with my feelings most of the afternoon at the engine shop. I decided it would probably be best for me to just not share anything relating to living outside of a glass box with K anymore.

I Don't Want To Live In A Glass Box

It's been 8+ months since I broke my back. I am very aware of the seriousness of the injury and damage that my body is recovering from. I still have awhile before the nerves in my legs and feet are healed, and there is the possibility they might not come back fully. I know that I need to be careful because of the titanium in my spine. I am aware of the risks of my new bionic body. I am very aware that I am very lucky to be alive. I am also very aware that my recovery has been above and beyond what anyone predicted it would be. I still can't believe how crazy my recovery has been - and it's happening to me! I know that I am very lucky that I had an amazing surgeon while in the hospital. I've had an awesome recovery team over the past several months (Thanks Tehachapi PT!). I've had an amazing support system since the accident happened. I've busted my ass during this whole recovery process - on the good days and the bad, through the awesome times and the times I just wanted it all to be over - I've given it my all. As a result, I'm walking again, working again, hiking again, ... and soon to be skiing again!

I fell in love with skiing last season. To me, it's only natural that I want to ski again. If I wasn't meant to ski again, I don't think my recovery would be going so well. I don't think I'd be alive right now if I wasn't meant to ski again. When I broke my collarbone in a car accident, I wasn't criticized for wanting to drive again! People hurt themselves doing ordinary things all the time, and they don't get criticized for returning to doing those ordinary things. The same should apply here. One thing that this whole situation has taught me, is to live life to its fullest. Do what you are passionate about and don't give up. I've worked my ass off over the past 8+ months and it's paying off. Hiking in the Sierra brings tears of joy to my eyes every single time. I know that I need to be cautious and listen to my body more than ever now, but I'm going to follow my passions. I'm not going to live in a glass box for the rest of my life! I don't want to be miserable for the rest of my life, and I know that's what I'd be if I just sat around wondering what it would be like to ski or backpack again. I want to spend my days enjoying my life and celebrating that I'm alive. I will not let my life be controlled by a glass box.

My Thoughts On The Return To Skis

If you know me or follow me on social media, you know I'm beyond ready to be back on skis again. I fell in love with skiing earlier this year and my time on them got cut too short. I didn't get on the black diamonds runs - I was planning to the day of the fall. I didn't get to do any backcountry ski touring. I didn't get the Dynafit setup I wanted. I didn't get to spend anywhere near the amount of time I wanted to on skis last season. I'm bitter about it. That bitterness has motivated me to push myself to get ready to be back on skis again. Well, that time is almost here.

Every time it has snowed in the Sierra recently, my excitement has grown... as has my nervousness. I have my neurosurgeon's blessing to do whatever my back feels up to (I'm going for a checkup/x-rays before skiing - just to make sure everything is stable). I've been strengthening my core, along with everything else, to make sure my body is as ready for it as it can be. I know that I can walk in ski boots again - I've done plenty of laps around Mammoth Mountaineering in the new Dynafit TLT6's. I've been telling myself that we need to wait for good, soft snow at Mammoth for my first time back. I've told myself, and Dave, that the first time back is going to be a lot of green runs so I can get use to the feeling of skiing again and see what's going to be an issue, etc. I've told Dave that the first several times on the lifts are going to be nerve-wracking for me. Oh shit, the lifts...

I'm not sure what makes me more nervous - how my back is going to handle skiing, what if I take a bad fall while skiing (which will happen), or having to get on a lift again. I have some legit concerns about falling while skiing, probably the same ones that K does, but it's something that will happen. Even the best skiers take tumbles, so it's just something that I'll have to adapt to and try and do "safely". Yes, I could hurt my back again while skiing, but I could hurt my back while driving, while walking, while coughing... it could happen with anything. 

I can't lie. I'm scared to get back on a lift. Our goal is to spend most of our skiing time in the backcountry, but I'm going to need to get back on lifts again to get ready for that. As the return to skis gets closer, the nightmares of seeing the fall from the lift have returned... with a vengeance. When I close my eyes, I can see it happening all over again. It's not pleasant. I wake up in tears some nights. It's something I have to deal with now. I'm not going to let the nightmare put a stop to my desire to ski again. If I did, the glass box would win. It's going to be hard, but it's a fear I have to face. 

All of this being said, I am nervously excited for ski season. I was nervous about my first hike, and it went much better than expected. We'll see what the first time back on skis holds for me. One thing that I do know, I'm going to keep on living my life to its fullest. I'm always going to have my critics, but that's a natural thing in life. I'm going to make the most of what I've been given - even if I have to be a bit more cautious. There is a very good reason my recovery has been ridiculously amazing... and it's not to live in a glass box.

Six Months: A Reflection

This past weekend marked six months since my life changed forever. It's been one hell of a ride, and I'm sure it's going to continue to be. Saturday, as we hiked to Humphreys Basin to celebrate Dave's birthday, I had a lot of time to reflect about the past six months. I thought sharing some of my thoughts would be good...

The Bitter Aftertaste

If you ask Dave what has been one of the driving forces in my recovery, he'd probably say something relating to how bitter I am. Actually, if you ask most anyone who knows me well, they'd probably tell you the same. Sure, being bitter can have negative connotations, but at the same time, it can really motivate you. 

Things were really starting to look up for me on so many fronts before the accident - financially things were getting better and more stable, job interviews (!!) in the aerospace industry, an upcoming vacation that involved skiing and buying a sweet Dynafit setup, several cross-country hiking trips planned for the summer, and I could go on and on. Well, it's obvious where all of that stands right now. Trying to make ends meet, with all of my bionic back and other bills, while not working is entertaining to say the very least. You should really ask Dave how many time I've been in tears on his shoulder over this whole mess. Needless to say, we didn't go on a ski vacation and we don't have sweet Dynafit setups yet. We haven't done any cross-country hiking trips either, although I hear EVO calling my name very soon. If you really want to know about bitter, ask me what it's like to get a call from a NASA contractor (that I've interviewed with before) about a specific position opening a few weeks after getting out of the hospital. I was months from being cleared to work and drive at that point. Just imagine how I felt. Just try imagining... 

It's been very hard to deal with feeling like everything was ripped away from you in a split second. The past six months, I've been trying to stay strong and fight through it, but it's been painfully difficult. Some days the only thing I can do is smile and pretend like everything is okay. In reality, I'm being torn apart inside. All I can really do these days is hope that it will all work out. I mean, I'm still alive for a reason, right?! 

The way I've come to see things over the past several months is that there are three different outcomes that could have happened - 1) I could be dead, 2) I could be paralyzed and bitter or 3) I could be walking again and bitter. I am thankful, and I'm sure many others are too, that Option 1 didn't happen. It's been pointed out to me several times that people have fallen from shorter distances and died. I fell from 15+ feet, landed on "concrete" snow/ice, and SURVIVED. That still blows my mind. I don't like option 2 either. My surgeon reminded me at the three month follow-up that they weren't sure I'd walk again before surgery. My doctor and physical therapist remind me that I am very lucky I had such an awesome surgeon. It's absolutely crazy to think about how close I was to being paralyzed and having to live with that for the rest of my life. Talk about a reason to be bitter. Struggling through learning how to use my legs again was a small price to pay for being able to walk again. Option 3 is what I was dealt and I'm learning to adapt to it. Even on the most frustrating and upsetting days, I am still alive AND I can walk again. Mind. Blown.

Making Bitterness Taste Good

I remember telling Dave that I was bitter as we looked out at the Great Western Divide the weekend that I made it to the top of Moro Rock unassisted. He asked if I was just bitter. I quickly responded, "I am so fucking bitter." He could tell, as I was staring at the mountains I love, that it was killing my soul not to be exploring them. It was that moment, staring at the Great Western Divide, that I was going to use the bitterness I was feeling as a driving force to get me back in the Sierra. I wanted to get my soul back.

As we hiked to Piute Pass on Saturday, I thought a lot about the progress I've made and just life in general. I remember when I first started hiking again, I was devastated about not making the goal I set of getting to Shadow Lake on my second hike since breaking my back. A month ago, when we didn't make my goal of Lamarck Col (due to weather and Dave's AMS symptoms), I was okay with it. I've learned over the past several months, that life is all about adapting. It hasn't always been easy to do, but I'm learning and evolving as days go by. As we were heading up the final slope to Piute Pass, I was shedding tears of joy. This was the first time we'd hiked to the west side of the Sierra Crest since I became bionic. As I sat in Humphreys Basin and soaked in the views, I still couldn't believe I was there. I did my longest hike to date on Saturday, 12 miles, and remembered how grateful I was to be hiking again.

Soaking in the view of Mt Humphreys

I'm not going to rehash a lot of what I've said in other posts about the strides I've made and how hard I've been fighting to get back to doing what I love. If you look at the progress I've made over the past few months, making it to the Great Western Divide actually has the potential to happen this year. It's still a stretch, but I think this is a lesson that nothing is impossible, not matter how impossible it seems or what obstacles get in your way. 

The Big Picture

There have been several lessons that I have learned over the past several months. Some big, some small. I've learned what really matters and what does not. I've learned that I can't please everyone. There are going to be those that aren't thrilled with the fact that I'm hiking again, or that I'm "graduating" PT already. I'm going to have my critics and I'm just going to have to deal with it. I have to do what's best for me... which is getting back to the Sierra.

Another lesson that I've learned, that really hit home late last week, is to live life to the fullest every single day and never take anything for granted. It could all change in a split second. I learned that the hard way in February. You never know what nature will throw at you, especially in the mountains, so cherish every second that you have and live every day like it's your last. Do what you love and are passionate about. That's what really matters. 

Humphreys Basin

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly...

It's been a few weeks since I've posted and it was on my 'to do' list this past week, but I've been avoiding it. It's not because I don't have anything to say, in fact there is a lot I want to write about, but things have just been overwhelming the past week and it's been hard to make myself sit down and write. Well, I'm not going to avoid it any longer, because holding it in doesn't do me any good...

You don't get to pick what your passion is. It finds you.

Hiking. Backpacking. Sierra. Hiking. Backpacking. Evolution. Hiking. Backpacking. Sierra. All I seem to think about is how much I want to be back to spending every weekend deep in the Sierra Nevada. Okay, there are other things on my mind too - like paying attention to my body, figuring out where to even begin with the bills, the frustration of dealing with the CA EDD office, trying not to get an ass kicking from Kim again - just to name a few. I'll get to all of that, but the Sierra is where my mind prefers to be (along with my body). 

It's been amazing for my mental and physical health to be out in nature again. It's destroying me not to be backpacking in the Sierra backcountry every weekend, and I'm still very bitter about that, but at least I have something. I have to be extra careful when on trails, including using hiking poles because my balance isn't all that great on uneven terrain, but I'm adapting. The nerves in my feet and legs drive me up the wall when hiking, but at least I can feel my legs. While I'm bitter about what happened and how it's affected my life, I'm still very grateful to be alive and walking again. 

I found a nap rock at Robinson Lake.

After learning a lesson about patience on the Shadow Lake hike, I decided to tone down my goals and be a little more reasonable. I did break my back after all. On the 4 month ouchiversary, we decided to try the Robinson Lake trail. It was about 1.5 miles to the lake with about 1400' of elevation gain. If there is one thing that didn't change, it was that my legs prefer elevation gain to gentle terrain any day. I've always been weird like that - give me mad elevation gain any day. It was a very slow and steady trip up to the lake, but I made it. It was rough in spots because I was very unsure of my footing due to the balance issues, and this would become very apparent on the way down. After enjoying a nap rock before ants attacked, we began the journey back to the car. It was harder for me going down than up and it took longer too. Not only was I unsure about my footing on some of the surfaces, I was also worried about falling. The thought of slipping and falling freaks me out a little because of what it could do to my back. Needless to say, I was very happy to make it back to the car safely. Who would have thought that I'd be slowly and cautiously hiking steep trails by this time?!

Enjoying the hike to Gaylor and Granite Lakes.

The next weekend was going to be an epic test for me - attempting camping for the first time. Granted it was just car camping, but who knows how my body was going to handle it. So, we loaded up the Subie with all of my pillows, all of our sleeping pads, and all the other essentials we'd need for the trip and headed up to Tuolumne to meet Terri, her husband, Teri and Josh. We decided to hike to Gaylor and Granite Lakes before heading to the campground. The beginning of the trail was lots of up which made my quads happy, but the going down to the lake part was slow and cautious. The view of Middle Gaylor and the Cathedral Range behind it was amazing. We headed up to Upper Gaylor and then did a little XC hiking to Granite Lakes. My legs were tired, but damn did it feel good to do a little XC hiking. Dave even got a little video of the adventure. The hike back up and over the ridge to the car was slow, but even with my tired legs, I noticed progress. 

Camping wasn't quite as successful, but I wasn't totally expecting it to be. Getting in and out of the tent was a little tricky because my legs and back didn't want to cooperate all the time, but I founds ways to do it. The hardest part was trying to get comfortable at night. Even with two sleeping pads under me and pillows, it was still very hard to relax. I was worried about how my back would do with sleeping in the tent. Part of the problem was the issue I have with the nerves in my feet too. Since the accident, they are very sensitive and it bothers me to have anything touch them. I can do socks for a few hours at a time now, but having sheets and such touch the ankles and feet is really bothersome. (I really hope this goes away at some point!) All in all, it was a learning experience for us. I was happy on Sunday morning to only be sleep deprived and not sore from hiking. Overall, it was a fun trip and I was so glad to see our friends again! Plus, when else do you have an excuse to eat an It's-It at 10:30am with Terri?! :)

Soaking in the view at Upper Lamarck Lake.

Last weekend was going to be a test for me. I'd been dying to see the Lamarck Lakes again and it would be a test to see how I was really progressing (by my standards). Given that I'd been doing 3-3.5 miles the previous trips, I figured it'd be a good time to try 5.5 miles. Well, I forgot about the 0.75 mile hike from the parking lot to the trailhead. 7 miles. Ready? Go! 

I'd remembered the trail being a little rough for me last year, so I was expecting it to be really difficult this time around. My legs were liking the trail this time and it must have been because of all the bike riding and all the quad work I do in PT. We'd made it to Lower Lamarck lake with not too many problems - paying attention to my legs and back the whole time. Little did I know the hardest parts for me were coming up - the lake outlet and stream crossings. The rocks and logs were rock solid, but my legs and sense of balance were not. It was hard and I almost wanted to turn around because of it, but I kept going. Dave was great at helping me a lot at each crossing. It was also very tricky for me walking on the rocks when we got to Upper Lamarck, but I found a good spot and tried to relax (it's hard when you're being cautious about the back and legs). It felt amazing to just sit there and soak in the views. The hike back down the trail was uneventful and my legs felt like jello for the last mile or so back to the car. I was a little in shock that I made it 7 miles and was actually halfway to *the* goal hike! *squee*

Tiffaroo and Princess Buttercup on the trail.

This weekend was what I would call a 'successful failure' to quote Apollo 13. It was successful because I went farther than I did the previous weekend (10 miles) and I was really paying attention to my body. It was a 'failure' in the sense that we didn't make it to our goal and actually came within less than a mile of the Hilton Lakes. I wasn't happy about not making it, but was happy that I listened to my body and knew that it would be bad news to go farther. I hadn't really taken into account the sandiness of the trail and that really wore me out quickly. The last few miles of the trail were really rough for me, but when you live a little you learn a little too. Plus, I got to finally cross paths with Princess Buttercup (aka Laura) on the trail. We have a date with EVO this fall.

The emotional damage... and healing.

Now for the tough stuff, the non-hiking status. The past few weeks have been really rough on many levels. Even with all the positive hiking progress, there's still the emotional side of recovery to deal with among other things. Yippee... /sarcasm.

For the first few months after the accident, I struggled with reliving the accident whenever I'd close my eyes. Seeing myself start to slide, trying to stop myself, laying there in the snow in pain... it was really, really hard to deal with. For a few weeks, the nightmare of the accident seemed to disappear. Well, it didn't last for long. The nightmares of the fall have returned recently - not the full event, but bits and pieces of it. I thought it was over. I was hoping it was over. It was wishful thinking. I have a feeling I'm going to be haunted by the fall for a very, very long time...

The daily struggle of adapting to the 'new normal' has been emotionally rough lately. With the progress I've been making on the trails, it's still been rough dealing with everyday things. My balance is still off, standing is exhausting, driving is tricky and I just get worn out really quickly (to name a few things). I've been trying to stay positive about it, but it's hard. I miss being active. I miss working. I'm sick of dealing with the CA EDD office and all the extra stress that it's adding to my life. I'm already in the red from this whole situation, why do they have to add extra frustration to my life?! Don't even get me started on the whole bill situation. I'm barely making the essential ends meet on my disability pay, and I have to deal with hospital bills and such on top of it. I know it will all somehow work out, but it should never have happened in the first place. What the hell did I do to deserve this? I'm mad. I'm bitter. I just wish it would all go away. I'm trying to deal with it, but it's hard. I'm trying to stay positive, but it's not easy. Dave has dealt with me venting and crying on his shoulder a lot lately. Kim has too. I'm very grateful that they, and many others, have been so supportive though all of this. 

From the physical side of things, things are healing as they should, but it's still a long road ahead for me. The hardware in my back gets irritated quite a bit and I just want to rip it out some days (don't worry, I won't do it). I find myself running my hand along my spine quite frequently to see if things are still in place. I know I can't really tell by doing it, but it puts my mind a little at ease. My left side, where the entry point for the first surgery was, is still extremely sensitive. I've cringed quite a few times when the area is touched or rubbed up against. It's most likely a nerve and muscle thing, and it's minor in comparison to the fact that I have titanium in my back, but it's hard to deal with because of the pain. 

The slightly unexpected part that has been extremely rough, is the healing and regeneration of nerves in my legs and feet. There are many days that I think the nerve/spinal cord damage is worse than the bionic back issues. The feet seem to be healing slowly, but it's still a very long road with the nerve regeneration. I've been told it could be up to two years before they are healed. My left and right feet don't act or really respond the same. To be very, very honest, it's extremely frustrating and I'm in tears at times because of it (among other things). On top of them not acting the same, they are extremely itchy, tingly and sensitive. I'm surprised I haven't itched through all the skin yet - it's that bad. A washcloth has become my new best friend with my feet so that the itching/scratching isn't so harsh on them. It's a temporary fix, but it helps a little. 

I could go on and on, but I don't really need to. The past 20 weeks have been a rough journey on so many levels. There has been lots of progress and many setbacks, lots of ass kickings from Kim and teasing from Mike, lots of tears on Dave's shoulders and cheers of success. I remind myself every day that it could have been so much worse and that I'm lucky to be alive. I hate the annoying nerve sensations in my legs, but I'm happy that I have feeling in my legs. As rough as this all is on both the emotional and physical levels, I am grateful to be alive and have so much support from friends. I know the road ahead is long and bumpy, but I'll get there... one step at a time.

Lessons In Patience

I Am Not Crazy Mountain Woman... Yet

Two weekends of setting goals and meeting them. I've admitted that I was surprised that I met them. Moro Rock was maybe not so much of a surprise, but the Crystal Lake hike was a huge shocker for me. I hadn't even walked a mile unassisted before it, and I made it three miles with elevation gain AND snow! Given this, what was the appropriate thing to do for the weekend? Set another goal! I wasn't sure if I wanted to set one for a longer distance or more elevation gain. I was tempted to do the Robinson Lake hike because of the increase in elevation gain and the distance was the same as the previous weekend, but I decided to try the trail to Shadow Lake near Mammoth. I'm a sucker for very scenic alpine lakes and couldn't resist trying it. This was a seven mile roundtrip hike, so I was a little hesitant about it. At the same time, I more than tripled my distance the previous weekend, why wouldn't I be able to double that distance this weekend. [This is probably where I set myself up for disaster - by setting too lofty of a goal, but I'll get to that later.]

I was excited about trying this hike, but a little queasy about it too. I knew with Shadow Lake being over three miles away, I'd have to be extra careful. I also knew that I had set my goal and I really wanted to meet it - and be able to soak in all the beauty of the Ritter Range from the lake. I knew things were a little off when I had some rib pain as we started the hike. This wasn't the typical side rib pain/sensitivity from where they split the ribs for the first surgery, this was front rib pain from those same ribs. I'm not going to lie, I was a little worried about it because it was not pleasant, but I pushed on. I was hoping that it would just go away after a bit of time, like the side pain usually does. After half an hour or so, it wasn't noticeable anymore. I was starting to have some problems with footing on the downhill rocky section in the first mile of the trail though. It's really not good to have footing and balance issues when you are going downhill. I at least had rocks on one side to steady myself with, and also Dave's hand when needed. It didn't get much better after that though. The trail then became kinda sandy/pebbly and that wore my legs down quickly I noticed. I was starting to get tired just over a mile into the hike and was just feeling off. I wanted to try and push on. I made it another quarter or a mile or so, but realized deep down that if I went any farther, I might do more harm than good - especially since the return trip was all uphill. 

I was in tears. I wasn't going to be able to make my goal for the weekend and I was upset about turning around in general. To make things even worse, after turning around, my shoe caught on a rock and I lost my balance. It freaked me out. I don't like the feeling of my heart jumping into my throat and almost falling. At that point I was hating myself and hating the Sierra. I wasn't happy with myself and Dave could tell it too. The hike back to the car was tough. I was mentally and physically exhausted. One positive thing we realized on the hike out though, is that elevation gain is not my problem. That is one thing that hasn't changed since before the accident, my legs love elevation gain! Bring on the Golden Staircase, bitches! [Someone drop me off there via helicopter and I will kick its ass. See? I have so not lost my feisty spirit.]

After getting some lunch and letting my body rest for a bit, I decided I wanted to try another little like. I didn't want to leave feeling totally defeated and there was still time to get more nature therapy in. We decided to drive to Horseshoe Lake and do the mile or so long lap around it. I really couldn't complain about the views, as I'm a sucker for lakes in the Sierra. I prefer ones over 10k feet and in the backcountry, but I take what I can get these days. I started to feel my legs getting tired about 3/4 the way around the lake, but I kept going. It was a little frustrating to me because I thought I wouldn't have a problem on the trail. Well, you know you are mentally exhausted when you burst into tears looking down and seeing a bloody toe. It was the last thing I needed to deal with right then. I was already upset with not meeting my goal on the Shadow Lake trail, and now I had to deal with a bloody toe. It just was not my day apparently. Dave was great through all of it though. He could tell that it just wasn't my day, and was there for me the whole time. 

Even in a defeating day, Dave can find a way to make me smile.

Lessons In Patience

The few days it has been since the hike(s), it's been really hard not to look it as being a failure. I didn't meet my goal, so I failed. The previous two weekends I had met my goals, one quite shockingly, so obviously I had failed. I felt defeated. [If you ask Dave or Kim, I'm really good at beating myself up over things, so this was nothing new.] I really should not have been disappointed in myself, this was only my second hike after recovering from a broken back after all. Plus, between the two hikes, I had covered the same distance as I had the previous weekend, if not a little more. It still crushed my soul though. I hated the Sierra in that moment. I started to think that I was never going to be back to my adventurous backcountry self again. Well, I also forgot about a little thing called patience...

I seem to forget at times that I am still recovering from a broken back. Yes, it happened to me and I remember every painful detail of it, but apparently the goal-setting part of me forgets that at times. I seem to still want to set lofty goals that aren't appropriate for where I am in the recovery process. Somehow I thought that if I was able to do 3 miles the previous weekend, that I could then double that the next. Clearly my body wasn't ready for that, and it let me know all about it. I was trying to rush myself back into the Sierra. As a very wise person told me today, "Sometimes pushing too hard will cause a disappointment. Simply regroup and start again!" It's true. Sometimes it's hard to remember, but it's something I need to remind myself of.

I've learned a lot about patience since the accident happened, but there is still clearly more for me to learn. There are a number of factors that I didn't even take into account that might have played a role in things (aside from the ones mentioned). I went back to work for a few hours two days before the hike, and I clearly didn't realize how exhausting it would be for me. Dave and I spent Saturday running errands in Bakersfield, so I didn't really have much time to really recover before the hike. Dave even mentioned to me after the fact that I just looked really tired. It's true. I am still learning about how my body handles things right now. Just because things go well one day, they might not the next. It's frustrating at times, but that's life for me right now. There's no book on how to recover, both physically and emotionally, from what happened. I'm pretty sure I'm writing it right now... with a lot of help from friends.

On the topic of patience, I am very thankful for others patience with me. I owe a huge thanks to everybody that has been helping me out since the accident and continues to do so. Dave, Mike & Kim, Sandy, Jenn,... the list goes on and on. In particular, I cannot thank Dave and Kim (and Mike!) enough for everything. I know that it has not been easy for them, but they have been so, so patient with me and it means the world to me. I am definitely taking a lesson or two from them in patience... even if it involves an ass kicking or lots of tears shed on shoulders. 

As hard as things get at times, I am still amazed every day by the progress I have made in the past four months. I've said it before, but I really am. The neurosurgeon reminded me last week that before surgery they weren't even sure I'd walk again. Mike had mentioned at one point that people have died from falling a shorter distance off a ski lift. Instead, I was walking again. It has been a rough road, and I'm sure it's only going to get bumpier, but I'm making progress. I might need a swift kick in the ass (it's Kim's new hobby) or a shoulder to cry on from time to time, but I'm learning that I just need to be patient and keep on fighting...

Not The Average Bionic Patient

Where am I going?

After taking a two week break from blogging following my last post, I feel like I am ready to start writing again. I was unsure of how I wanted to proceed with the blog entries and things had gotten a little stressful in dealing with some of the aftermath of the accident. The posts I had done to date made sense with how they're broken up - the accident, both surgeries, acute therapy, and two significant 'game changers'. Now that I am home and PT is an ongoing thing, the way to break up entries wasn't going to be as clearcut. What I've decided to do is make this post about significant milestones that are getting me back to my crazy, adventurous self. I don't feel the need to share details of PT like I did with the previous events following the accident. All the butt busting work in PT with Chris has helped me make ridiculously amazing progress in recovering from the accident. The progress is highlighted in this post.

The Return to Yosemite 

My first dose of nature therapy.

Seven weeks after breaking my back, I had my first dose of nature therapy. I needed it. Dave needed it. What better place to make my first steps back in nature than Yosemite?! What made it even better was that I was walker-free! Less than seven weeks after learning how to walk again, I was in Yosemite and using a cane! I have to admit, it was difficult for me being there and not running up and down trails, but it was nice to soak it all up in ways that I hadn't before. It was amazing to be back in nature, where I belong, again. It didn't take long for the exhaustion of the day to set in, but this was the first step to being whole again...

The Great Western Divide... and Double-Edged Sword

Moro Rock with Dr P. Don't tell Kim about the stairs.

A few weeks after our adventures in Yosemite, our outdoor adventure buddy, Natacha (aka Dr Peach), came to visit. The only natural thing to do was go to Sequoia! One thing that I wanted to do was see the Great Western Divide again. I knew being there was out of the question for this year, but at least I'd be able to see it by making it partially up Moro Rock. Even after getting lectured by a certain someone (ahem, Kim*) about stairs, I decided to go for it. I was greeted by an amazing view of the Great Western Divide about halfway up. I decided this was a great place to stop and soak it all in. I'm sure I could have made it farther, but I didn't want to overdo it. I wanted to share this moment and small victory with Natacha and Dave. I was speechless. I was so happy to see the Great Western Divide again, but at the same time I was bitter about not being able to go there this year. It killed me knowing Precipice Lake was 17+ miles away and I couldn't make it there. Such is the double-edged sword that is nature therapy. That aside, I was just amazed that I made it that far up Moro Rock! The adventure also included a trip to see General Sherman (no, we did not park in the handicapped lot... I never got a temporary permit on purpose) and It's-It's! What trip to a CA national park is complete without an It's-It?! I was tired after, but I could see the progress made since visiting Yosemite a few weeks prior.

The Return to Moro Rock

On top of Moro Rock 14 weeks after the accident.

After a few weeks off from nature, we returned to SEKI. This time, there was no cane! I had set a goal for this trip - making it to the top of Moro Rock. I knew Moro Rock would be a challenge, but I was ready for it. It wasn't easy, and it was a little nerve-wracking at times, but I made it! I made it up all 400 steps with no cane - and I passed a person or two too! I miss sprinting up it like I did last year, but maybe I'll make that a goal for the fall! 

A Mammoth Adventure

Naturally there would be snow...

After how well things went in SEKI last weekend, we decided to start looking at mini hikes that I might be able to do. Mammoth had a few options that I liked, like Crystal Lake. I realized looking at the topo map on the way there, that I had completely disregarded the 500-600ish feet of elevation gain on that trail. Not only was I looking at a 3 mile round trip hike, but I was dealing with decent elevation gain too (for me at the time... I prefer it to be 1000+ft/mile). Well, we decided to go for it and if I was getting tired or sore, we could just turn around. At the very worse, I'd have done a little bit of walking on an actual trail and be making some progress. The first 1/2 mile wasn't too bad, I was feeling pretty good. Then we started to see snow. Naturally, the first trail I'd attempt would have to have snow on it. Since I'm always one for a challenge, I kept on going, but with hiking poles and some help from Dave for the snowy parts (I can't kick step or stomp the snow yet). Little did I know, I'd make it all the way to Crystal Lake. The view of Crystal Crag was amazing and we just soaked it all in while resting for a bit. As we headed back down the trail, I was still in shock that I was hiking. 15 weeks after breaking my back, I was hiking again. I shed a few tears of joy as we got back to the trailhead. I had just hiked three miles with elevation gain and snow. The most I had walked before that was maybe 1/2 a mile. I was tired, but I felt amazing at the same time. I'm honestly still smiling about it as I'm writing this post. 

Not The Average Bionic Patient

I have to admit, I still have a hard time believing the progress I've made in 15 weeks. The doctors told me I'd be walking device-free close to six months after surgery. I was walking device-free three months after the accident. Three months. It's hard for me to wrap my head around that sometimes. I could have been dead. I could have been paralyzed. I could be using a walker still. Instead, I was walking with my own two feet again. Not even four months after surgery, I did my first hike. It was a baby one by my standards, but I was on a trail again! It's been a lot of hard work in PT and at home, but it's paying off. It hasn't been easy, just ask Dave or Kim about the number of times I've cried on their shoulders, but I'm making progress. The road ahead is still long and winding, but I'm taking things one step at a time. With the way things are going, my "goal" hike to Lamarck Col might be happening a lot earlier than expected. Who knows, maybe backpacking is still a possibility for this year. It's all about taking things one step at a time...

*disclaimer: I know Kim got on my case about the stairs, among other things, because she cares and has my best interests at heart. She knows me a little too well and doesn't want me to go backwards in the recovery process. I just have to give her a little crap about it because she would be concerned if I didn't! ;)

Acute Therapy Isn't So Cute

Moving South

Let me tell you, Valium does wonders for ambulance rides. Maybe I was just happy to be out of the hospital after days of waiting, but the ride from Fresno to Bakersfield was much better than the previous one. I bet having my spine fixed helped a little too...

I'll be the first to admit I was a little scared about the next chapter in recovery. Kim had recommended Health South as an acute therapy option when the doctors first mentioned I'd need it. I'll admit, when she mentioned three hours of physical therapy a day, I was a wee bit terrified. The most I'd done in a day was maybe 30 minutes in the hospital, if that. I was determined though, so I wasn't going to let three hours of therapy scare me too much. Little did I know, I was about to be on yet another crazy adventure...

I was thankful to have the bed by the window again, and it even opened! If I had been stuck without a window at either place, I might have lost it. I was thankful to have Dave there, and Jenn, Mike & Kim visiting on that first day. I was thankful to finally get some pain meds again - it had been a good 8 hours without them. I was thankful that I had fight and motivation to get back on the slopes and in the mountains (see tweet below). I was thankful for a lot of things, and I would discover more and more things to be thankful for every single day.

Me? Give up skiing?! Fuck that!!

The Young One

Let me tell you, being the youngest patient in a place by at least two decades is not easy. Don't get me wrong, there were a few patients that I loved talking to and were sweethearts, but it was just weird. It felt like a reminder at times that I should not have been there; I should have been running up and down mountains, carving up the groomers, just being anywhere but there. I had to keep reminding myself that this was temporary and I'd be back to all of that soon enough.

The first day of PT and OT was a giant slap in the face for me. I wasn't too surprised when I couldn't do things in PT because I knew my left leg hated me, that my feet didn't want to "pull up", that muscles and nerves were just going to take lots of time to come back to full strength. It really hit me during OT when they had me put my shoes on. I got my right one on, but couldn't get the left one. It hurt my hip just moving my leg to even start putting it on. I was in tears. I could not even put my own damn shoe on. What was wrong with me?! I really started to realize at that moment what all we take for granted...

PT and OT got better each session and day. My second day at HS, I was able to pull my feet/toes upward a little and remember being so thrilled about it. It was small, but it was something I wasn't able to do since the accident. I remember being allowed to carefully wheel my own wheelchair (that's a big deal when you've had back surgery). I remember when they let me have a walker in the room to use. I remember almost being able to take a shower without any help. Even with all the positive things happening, there were times when PT and OT just crushed me. Walking was exhausting at times. Standing for three minutes seemed like forever. Who would have thought things like this would come out of my mouth?! It was always difficult for me when exercises with my right leg/foot would go well and the left side just wouldn't cooperate at all. I remember many times when I couldn't swing my left leg to the side, when I couldn't raise it laying on my side (which I can still barely do even now), couldn't bend my leg when laying on my stomach. I remember slapping the mat several times when I was frustrated with the leg. Even with all the progress I was seeing, there were many frustrating moments. 

The Weekend

I was so happy for the weekend. I wasn't going anywhere, but it was nice to have a little break from things. There was still PT and OT on Saturday for me, but it was easier than the stuff I was doing during the week. Dave was feeling a little better (the poor guy got sick after all the time he spent in the hospital with me) and so he got to see some of the progress I was making during PT. He also seemed to enjoy harassing me while I was working hard too (shocking!). I actually got to have In-N-Out for lunch and realized I didn't have my appetite back because I couldn't finish my double meat and barely touched the well done fries. I was so excited about non-hospital food and I couldn't even finish it. Later that afternoon, Jenn and Sandy came to visit. They brought me some homemade Pad Thai and chocolate cupcakes! It was so nice to spend time a few hours with them and being more mobile when they visited this time! Their visit definitely helped lift my spirits. 

Sunday was a bit of a different story. After days of telling the doctor, the internal med guy and the nurses that my iron count was always low, they decided to do more than just the iron pills I was getting. They started me on five days of iron IVs. I was not happy. They were threatening me with a transfusion, but I made sure they didn't do that. My iron had always been low and my body never had a problem with it. My blood and all that crap never caused problems. I never got AMS when Dave and I were in the High Sierra. He'd get it, but I NEVER got it. My body was fine with my blood/iron. On top of being upset about that, they had problems getting the IV started. It took them an hour to do it. Seriously. Eventually things calmed down, but it was not a good start to the day for me. Poor Dave was sick again, so I flew solo that day. 

I ventured outside for the first time and soaked up some sunshine. It felt glorious. For the first time in two weeks, I was outdoors using my own two feet (and the walker). Every other time had been on a gurney. It was amazing feeling - sunshine, fresh air, and a sense of progress. Even with that positive feeling, I had some demons that decided to attack that night. Everything started to hit me really hard. I was in tears wondering why this happened to me? What did I do to deserve this?! Why couldn't I just have a do-over or something like that?! WHY?! I don't know why, but I shot Kim a short email about it. I remember trying to hide my tear-filled eyes from the nurses as I was getting ready for bed. Kim called and emailed back while I was in the bathroom. I listened to her voicemail, but I just couldn't bring myself to call her back. I just wanted to take my pain meds, sleeping pills and hope that feeling would be gone in the morning. Looking back on it, she was 100% correct in everything she said that night. 

Back at it... and walking

Monday was a weird morning. I woke up feeling a bit off from the night before, but at the same time a little better after reading the encouraging email Kim sent again. Dave was still sick and not able to go to work or visit. Even with all of that, Monday was a big day in PT. It was the day of trying the quad cane around the gym for the first time. It was the day of walking around the gym only gently hanging onto the hand of my physical therapist. It was the day to walk between the rails without hanging on for the first time. It was a big day. It wasn't pretty walking between the rails, and it was really scary, but I had some good steps in there. It was difficult to control my hips/legs/feet and balance while trying to move. It was just bizarre feeling trying to learn to walk again. There is no other way to describe it. I was thrilled though. For the first time in over two weeks, I was taking steps without hanging onto anything. I was exhausted that afternoon. 

Tuesday and Wednesday in PT and OT were much of the same - practicing walking solo more, working on balance, getting ready for life at home, etc. My final test in OT was taking a shower without any help. I passed with flying colors. I remember working my ass off those last few PT and OT sessions (not saying I wasn't before) because I wanted to be ready for attacking life back at home. I still hated having an iron IV every morning and the food at every meal, but I was happy to be making progress. 

My last day at Health South, Kim came to visit and brought a dark chocolate milkshake for me. We sat outside and enjoyed the sunshine and milkshakes, just talking about the progress I was making, how things were going since Sunday night and life in general. It was nice to just be able to relax and talk to a good friend. Dave was starting to feel better again and came down my last night to visit too. He'd been having a rough time being sick and all that jazz, so it made me happy to see him feeling better again. Their visits made my last night at Health South a much better one. [Side note: I blame Mike and Kim for my addiction to the shakes at Moo Creamery. Mike claims it's all on Kim's hands and he's "just the humble servant", but I'm still blaming both of them for the yummy addiction.] 

A great way to end this chapter of recovery.

Freedom...

Thursday morning was a glorious one. I was a bit nervous about going home, but at the same time I was so happy to be going home. My departure came at a good time too because my new roommate was just a little crazy and I'll leave it at that. Dave showed up shortly after I returned from breakfast and helped pack up my stuff. I had one last iron IV to go and then I was a free woman. Finally, after what seemed like hours on the IV, it was done. Everything was packed up and in the Subie. I turned in my discharge papers at the front desk and walked out the door. That's right, not even three weeks after the accident and two back surgeries, I WALKED out of Health South. Freedom...