My Ski Season: The Best Thing Since... Sliced Bread?!

This ski season has proven to be better than anything I could ever imagine it would be. Yes, people have been whining about the lack of snow in the Sierra this year... but have those people really been out to even enjoy the snow we did get?! I'll admit, the lack of snow sucked, but what we did get made for some awesome skiing, and Mammoth Mountain did a great job making sure of that. As I write this post, I already have 33 days of skiing under the belt of my ski pants. 33 DAYS!!! That's a pretty respectable number of days for anyone, especially in a good snow year. Oh, and did I mention that's 33 days for someone who broke their back?!? Maybe all those whiners just need to shut the eff up and ski!! Just sayin'... if I can do it, there's no excuse!

Progress Beyond What I Could Ever Imagine

In my last post, it was very clear that I was thrilled with meeting my goal on the two-year mark of the accident. Well, as thrilled as I was to meet that goal, I also knew that I still had a lot of work to do. If you really know me, you know how hard I am on myself. Skiing is no exception. Yes, I was stoked to meet my goal, but I could see there was still a long way to go (I knew it, and it was reaffirmed in video and a list of things to work on). Maybe I should restate this just in case you missed it: I AM REALLY HARD ON MYSELF. 

I'm trying to remember when things clicked, but I can't really put my finger on it. It was a week or two after I met my goal, that's all I really remember... and that I could feel it. I actually felt more comfortable while skiing and wasn't really afraid to "point 'em down." It was crazy and awesome all at the same time! From that moment, the progress I was making just seemed to take off. I mean, I had made a lot of progress up until then, but this felt different. I was really starting to incorporate more flexion and extension, I was standing taller and not "back-seating it" as much, my upper body had quieted down, etc. Oh, and did I mention I started skiing Chair 3 at Mammoth (the easiest ways down are Blue-Black runs) and LOVED it?! I think Jaclyn knows the look of fear I had the first time we got on the lift, but that quickly disappeared, and we lapped Saddle Bowl many times.

The following weekend was looking like it was going to be my last weekend on the slopes for the season: there was no new snow in the forecast, and the temperatures were on the rise. I was determined to make the most of it. Friday was definitely not a stellar day for me - I was in my head too much and just couldn't stop thinking. You know it's bad when your instructor says they can tell you are thinking too much just by looking at your face. I think that day was just more of a warm-up for the rest of the weekend. Saturday and Sunday proved to be my best days on the slopes yet. I skied with Carolyn both days, and she is the one person who has consistently been able to get me out of my head while skiing. It's amazing the difference getting out of my head can make - and I'm not the only one who noticed it. Maggie had joined us for a few runs on Sunday, and she even commented that I'm skiing much more athletically and with great rhythm. Carolyn and I skied well past the end of the lesson, with permission of course, and the way I skied and how I felt meant more to me than meeting my goal on the two-year mark. It was phenomenal... and I wasn't ready for it to be over! 

Skiing with Maggie and Carolyn on my "last day" of the season.

I learned a lesson the first week in April: if I think ski season is over and I throw all of my hiking stuff in the washer, it will PUKE two feet of snow at Mammoth. It happened. 

Miraculously, my ski season didn't end when I thought it did. Two feet of fresh snow did wonders for Mammoth and for my skiing. Carolyn and I were skiing together again, so that automatically meant I'd be out of my head, right?! Not so fast. The first run had me really worried - I apparently forgot how to ski after taking one weekend off. Once I got out of my head, I was back on track and feeling really comfortable again. We spent the morning lapping Chair 12, which had re-opened, and Chair 3. It was such fun! I even skied the Face of Three for the first time which really had me stoked - and apparently everyone at DSES when they heard I did it too! I was really nervous at the top of it - it's steep and much more of a black diamond that Patrolmen's - and Carolyn can attest to this. My face said it all - a look of fear. Well, that look quickly went away after a few turns, and I thought it was a blast! We were having so much fun that we spent the afternoon free skiing together, too. Carolyn informed me that I ski much better outside of a lesson too - because I put way too much pressure on myself. It's true. I could feel how much better I was skiing. Sunday was more of the same. We spent a lot of time lapping Broadway and Saddle Bowl, and it was the most comfortable I'd ever been on both of them; apparently I was skiing a lot faster, too! Carlynn joined us for some free skiing after lunch, and it was awesome. We lapped Face of Three AND Fascination! I was lapping Black Diamonds!!! IT WAS AWESOME!!! 

The Demons Within...

While my skiing has progressed like crazy since the two-year mark, the one thing that's been extra hard to deal with is the accident itself. I thought that I had processed how my life changed in a split second on February 23rd, 2013, which now seems like a long time ago. I thought that all the writing I was doing on this blog really helped me process it and put it all behind me. One thing that I learned from after the two-year re-birthday is that wasn't true. Looking back at the one-year mark, it didn't really seem to impact me much. I mean, I remembered what happened and all that jazz, but it wasn't too out of the ordinary. Well, life since the two-year mark is anything but ordinary and I think a lot of that is because of the fact that I'm facing my demons and skiing again. 

I was flying high after skiing Patrolmen's on February 23rd, but later that week, I crashed. I don't know what it was, but I just felt really unsettled. I've chatted about what happened quite a bit over the past two years, but I've never really talked about or processed what happened. It was becoming quite clear... to me and to Maggie. I'm really not going to go into details, but she and I have talked quite a bit over the past few weeks and it's been helping little by little. I wasn't thinking that returning to skiing would dig up the demons again, I thought I had dealt with them already, but I'm so grateful to Maggie for taking the time to chat so often. 

The Season of Thanks...

Now that ski season is winding down again, or so it seems right now, I'm still blown away by the progress I've made in one season. I went from skiing the easiest run at Mammoth (it's so flat you have to push yourself with your poles sometimes) to lapping legit Black Diamond runs... and LOVING them!! It blows my mind! I never thought I'd enjoy the steep runs or be skiing as often as I am, but I'm doing it! There are so many people that have been so supportive along the way - friends, family, everyone at DSES, coworkers, complete strangers. It's been crazy. Looking back on this ski season, I can honestly say that working with Disabled Sports Eastern Sierra has been the best thing that has happened to me since breaking my back. I can't thank everyone there enough for everything and helping me get that piece of my life back that was missing. 

The REAL Return To Skiing

Disclaimer: I know I posted about "the return to skiing" last year, but looking back, it didn't feel like I really returned to skis. I mean, I got on a lift in absolutely brutal conditions and somehow got down the trail, but I didn't enjoy it. Baby step in the right direction? Of course. Returning to skiing? Not really. Returning to skiing means enjoying those turns and having a blast!

The Butterflies...

Last March, I started talking to Disabled Sports Eastern Sierra (DSES) about taking lessons. I just knew after talking with them that they were the ones that were going to really get me to love skiing again. Unfortunately, or fortunately, my back decided to flare up bad shortly after talking to them. I was bummed, but at the same time, maybe it was a sign to wait until next ski season. After a remarkable summer of hiking and backpacking (!!), I knew it was a good sign that I waited. I was stronger this summer and more in-tune with the bionic back and annoying nerves. I went on more backpacking trips this summer than I had any summer before breaking my back. I had a good feeling going into ski season... 

I reached out to DSES in November, and Andy put my in touch with Maggie. After talking on the phone and via email a few times, Dave and I stopped in before the Thanksgiving holiday to talk to her in person. I had a really great feeling about this ski season after talking with her and several others at DSES. Lessons were set up for December, and I knew it was finally going to happen. I was excited... and nervous. 

It all started about a week before my lessons. The events of February 23rd, 2013 were on repeat as I tried to fall asleep. The nightmares had returned. Only this time they weren't just nightmares, they were "daymares", too. Don't get me wrong, I was ridiculously excited about getting back on skis again (and skiing with DSES), but the chairlift memories were ruining it. It seemed that resort skiing had been ruined for me. I was basically dealing with so much excitement about skiing again, a fresh snow dump before my lessons, and the lift anxiety, all at once.

The excitement hit as we left at 4am for Mammoth. I still couldn't believe this was happening. Well, that excitement started mixing with the butterflies not long after we hijacked Moosie. As we drove up to the Main Lodge, I felt like I was going to hurl my guts out. I was still excited about skiing, but there was also a lot of anxiety. I'd been on a lift since I broke my back and on skis, but the anxiety was still paralyzing. Well, it was time to face that anxiety and fear head on...

Twin Plank Lessons: Disabled Sports Eastern Sierra Edition

From the second I first stepped into the DSES office at Mammoth, I had a feeling that the weekend was going to be a special one. As queasy as I felt from the anxiety that was building in my gut, I also felt at ease because I knew I was in good hands. That doesn't mean that some tears weren't shed in the bathroom at one point, but that was bound to happen. As it turns out, it only happened once. 

Mark could probably tell, from the moment he introduced himself as my instructor for the day, that I was nervous. My face always gives everything away. The lesson started with talking about the game plan, what my goals are (short and long term) with skiing, my concerns, etc. It helped get my mind off the building anxiety of the lift. We headed outside and spent a little time on the basics of getting use to my skis again, something with which I was very okay. Then it was time to face my biggest fear... the lift.

It was weird. As soon as I got on the lift, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I mean, I wasn't completely at ease, but I wasn't freaking out (even when the lift would stop mid-ride). We did a few laps on the "Marathon Mile", a super tame trail, to help me get use to the snow, my skis, and deal with some of the anxiety I was feeling about being on skis. After the second time, I think there was a perma-smile on my face. Heck, we even got a huge rainbow on a bluebird day while waiting in line at Discovery Chair! We moved on to the slightly steeper Sesame Street West, gradually adding things to work on, but mostly focusing on my balance on the skis. The guidance, support and encouragement from Mark (and the volunteers) really helped me feel more at ease - even when I was panicking at times. By lunchtime, I had made more progress that I thought I would - six runs, no falls, and a perma-smile!

The afternoon session started off where the morning left off - with a perma-smile and an open mind. More progress was made, including a much needed sliding fall mid-run, but I could also tell that I was finally starting to get fatigued. After the second or third run, my right leg was getting hard to control. It just wanted to do its own thing. It was the most bizarre and terrifying feeling, not being able to really control what was going on. We took a break, which included riding the gondola, and decided it was good to call it a day and start fresh in the morning. 

Celebrating a day full of progress at the top of Mammoth!

I spent pretty much the entire afternoon/evening in perma-smile mode. Hearing the progress I had made in a short amount of time, and seeing it myself, was amazing. It was encouraging to hear that the only issue I might have with skiing is getting fatigued more easily. I'm pretty sure that when I met Dave and Moosie in the Lodge after my lessons, they could see my smile from hundreds of feet away. They were excited about the progress. I was excited about the progress. I felt amazing. That night was all about celebrating... with some tasty MBC beer. 

The next morning started off with a little anxiety, but nothing like the day before. When Dave dropped me off at DSES, Maggie greeted me. She was thrilled to hear how the prior day went and let me know that I'd be skiing with Carolyn and Carlynn (Maggie was fighting a bug, and we were both bummed to have to wait to ski together). The lesson started off similar to yesterday, and I had a blast talking to Carolyn and Carlynn. Mark had filled them in on the progress of yesterday, and we knew to really focus on my balance today while continuing progress in other areas (I seem to like the backseat... but I'm getting better about catching and fixing it). After getting use to freshly waxed skis and warming up, the perma-smile returned. I was tense at times, and Carolyn had to remind me to breathe a few times, but I was having a blast. I felt great after the previous day - including the back! On our last run of the morning, we decided to do a new trail... and I loved it! I was a little tense, but I remembered to breathe the entire way down and got to practice a lot of difference skills! It was a great way to cap off a great weekend! 

You can't ski at Mammoth without saying hi to Woolly!

Skiing Is Fun Again!

I cannot say enough good things about this past weekend. I've had amazing support from so many friends, near and far, throughout my entire recovery journey. It was evident from all of the positive messages I was getting leading up to, during, and after the "return to skiing" weekend. I can't thank everyone enough. Dave and Moosie were there the entire weekend, experiencing the perma-smile firsthand. DSES has almost left me speechless. They've been so welcoming, supportive, encouraging, patient, and just plain awesome. I honestly didn't think that getting back on skis would be so much fun, but it has been thanks to the awesome people at DSES. They've made the skiing 'itch' hit hard, and I can't wait to go back up after the holidays and continue working with them. I know it's not always going to go as smoothly and I'll get frustrated with myself, but that's what this entire recovery journey has been about - overcoming and moving on. They've reignited my passion for skiing and made it fun again. I cannot thank DSES enough for that!

I know that I am lucky to be where I am today with my recovery - things could have been so much worse. I'm thankful every single day that I'm walking again, because I know that I shouldn't be. I've learned to live every day to it's fullest and never take anything for granted because it all could change in split second... and it did for me. Time in the mountains means so much more to me these days. It was amazing to feel the peace that being alone in the backcountry brings again. Now it's amazing to feel that pure joy of skiing again and it means the world to me. I've had my critics, but I'm not going to live in a glass box and just give up on getting my life back. Life is all about living and being in the moment. Do I wish that February 23rd never happened? Of course! I can't change what happened, but I can celebrate every day. Life is all about living... and celebrating every moment with those around you. Many thanks to Dave, Moosie, and everyone at DSES for making my return to skiing so special. 

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.

We can rebuild her. We have the technology. :: 1

Waiting

I felt like I was caught in a whirlwind laying on the gurney in the trauma room. There was so much going on around me and it almost felt like I wasn't there. I honestly don't remember much of the initial few hours I was in so much pain. I remember being annoyed because none of the doctors would tell me why they were only focusing on my back and not the pain in my legs/feet. I remember them somehow getting the rest of my clothes off aside from the sports bra. I remember how painful it was having the sheet draped over my feet and specifically asking them to pull it off my feet. I remember waiting for the X-ray. I remember them transferring me to the table for the X-ray and how much it fucking hurt. I didn't think it was possible to be in more pain. I was wrong.

I remember being put in another trauma room with a kid that wasn't doing so good. Trust me, definitely not doing good. I remember finally seeing Dave at some point. I remember seeing the X-ray image. I will never forget that image. I was broken. That's when it hit me. That's when I knew nothing was going to be the same again.

Not pretty. An L1 burst fracture.

The Hallway

There is nothing quite as awesome as being put in the hallway to wait... and wait... and wait. I remember the nurses rotating between morphine and some other liquid painkiller in the IV. I remember Dave handling the "letting everyone know what was going on" aspect of things because I was in no shape for it mentally. Honestly, I don't think either of us were mentally prepared for it or anything that was to come. I remember emailing back and forth with Kim about the situation and being scared. I remember getting a text from Mike joking about "no more cartoons for you" and it made me smile and giggle a little (inside joke from earlier in the week). Yes, I actually smiled for what seemed like the first time since before the fall. I don't remember much of what else happened in the hall and maybe it's for the best. I'll let Dave enjoy those memories of crazy patients pissing on themselves that I clearly forgot for a reason. 

I somehow managed to get a little sleep in the hallway. How that happened, I don't know. As we waited and waited until surgery, I was happy to have a few visitors. Sandy, Jenn, and Steve made several hour drive to spend some time with me before surgery; it meant the world to me. As shitty as I felt, it really helped to see them. I was on a lot of drugs and scared to death about surgery, but they helped make the ordeal easier to handle. I know they helped put Dave at ease too... or they at least gave him a distraction from what was going on.

The time had finally arrived after several delays, they were taking me to the pre-op room. I was scared to be going to surgery, but so happy to be getting out of the hallway. I remember Dave was in there. I remember a needle being put in my IV. That's all I remember...

We Can Rebuild Her. We Have The Technology.

I remember waking up in the post-op room. My back was in pain, but the shooting pains in my legs and feet were gone. I remember being taken to the elevator and Dave, Jenn & Steve, and Mike & Kim being there. I was still in a daze and didn't say much, but was so grateful to see all of them. I was surrounded by people I love and really had no way of showing my appreciation for all of them being there.

That night marked the first of many, many challenging nights. Sleeping was difficult. Between the pain in my back and left side (where the incision was), the annoying circulation things on my calves, and the bed movements, I didn't know if I was going to get any sleep. On top of that, needing help to turn on my right side was tough for me. Nothing was comfortable. I remember the nurse being really helpful and supportive, but it was still a long night. 

The next day was a huge smack in the face and a preview of the long road ahead for me. It started off well - Dave was there by my side, the neurosurgeon stopped in and said everything looked good from their end, the flowers that Mike & Kim brought were beautiful. I was having a really hard time being stuck in bed all the time, but I didn't really have any other option. It all really hit when PT paid me a visit. It all started with the log roll to get out of bed. My legs didn't want to cooperate and it was hard to push myself up because of the back pain. Standing up from bed wasn't easy, but I did it with some help. Then came the blow - trying to walk. I could barely move my legs. I managed two or three baby steps and my left foot was uncooperative. It was like I was hit by a semi. I felt like I hit rock bottom at that point. How does someone who runs up and down mountain passes in the Sierra all the time deal with barely managing to move her legs?! Not well. Not well at all. I knew it would get better, but at the time it felt so hopeless. I was really grateful Dave was there for encouragement and a shoulder to cry on. After I told Kim what happened, she told me to "celebrate that you can stand". It was true. Things could have been a lot worse. To this day, that has stuck with me. After what happened, I will always celebrate that I can stand. 

It was rough over the next few days. Dave and I were going stir-crazy. He was going back and forth between the hospital and the hotel and I was just, well, spending my days in room 904B. I still don't know how he did it. He was always there being supportive, spending hours upon hours at my bedside. When I was struggling with anything from PT to dealing the pain to, well, anything, he was always there. He is amazing.

PT was improving day by day. I went from barely taking two steps, to taking 10 steps in the hall, to walking almost all the way down the hall. As someone who hiked 10-15 miles/day with significant elevation gain every weekend, I never thought walking down a hallway would be so exhausting. I wanted to keep pushing myself though, to go a little farther every PT session. It was frustrating at times, but I could see the progress every day. I was transferring to/from the bed more on my own, sitting up more and almost standing up on my own. I was still struggling with not being able to get my legs back up onto the bed and not being able to pull my feet up when laying in bed, but I was still seeing progress.

The outpouring of support and love from friends since the accident really helped me survive being stuck in the hospital. Dave and I were overwhelmed by all of it and couldn't thank everyone enough. Calls, visits, messages. So much love and support. I remember getting a phone call from my arm-twisting buddy, Stacey, which totally made my day. She always finds a way to make me giggle. Our hiking buddy, Natacha, and Jenn & Al from work came to visit me and keep us company for a few hours. The support from Mike & Kim was beyond amazing; they are like family. Mike liked to send me words of encouragement from time to time. He's also quite the jokester too because I found out from Kim that he asked the surgeon to fix my attitude. I have yet to pay him back for that comment - there will be lots of post-it notes and paper airplanes. Kim was always texting me to see how I was doing, checking on my progress, sending words of encouragement, etc. She was great at making me laugh when I needed it and just being there when I needed to 'chat'. Mike and Kim are just amazing, there is no other way to put it. 

Five days after the accident, I was using the walker in the hallway during PT and my neurosurgeon walked by us and watched for a bit. He said he was impressed with how much I was walking so quickly after surgery. He must have seen something or realized just how active of a person I was, because later that morning I found out that he wanted to do a second procedure. That afternoon, we were still waiting to hear what the second operation was and when it would be. Nobody seemed to have answers for us, so all we could do was wait... and be frustrated. That night I didn't sleep well. The thought of a second surgery, and thinking I might have to start recovery all over again, scared me.

The next morning, the news came. I found out I was having surgery that evening.

To be continued...

Weekends Are Made For Skiing...

In the beginning

A typical winter Saturday for Dave and I meant spending the day skiing at Badger Pass in Yosemite. At least that had been the typical Saturday for the past several weeks. You see, I just started learning how to ski over the holidays as a way to spend more time in our favorite mountains - the Sierra Nevada. I didn't fall in love with it at first, but as the weeks went on and I started getting better at it, I was in love. The speed, the fluidity of the movements, the rush... I had found a new passion to go with backpacking/hiking. Little did I know, the day I was about to get on my first Black Diamond runs, my life would change drastically in a split second.

February 23, 2013

I woke up to an email from a dear friend telling me to "have fun" skiing. The morning felt the same as every other Saturday morning - driving from Oakhurst to Badger Pass while sipping coffee and munching on a protein bar or two. It looked like a cloud had planted itself on the mountain as we were getting ready to hit the slopes, but it didn't deter us. 

I always liked to warm up on the Bruin run to get a feel for the snow before hitting the Blue runs, so naturally we headed over there. The lift seats were a little snowy/wet/icy and the operator didn't seem to care too much (not cleaning them off at all). The first two runs went well, and I wanted to do one more before heading over to the the better runs. I remember the chair felt colder and almost wetter than either of the previous two, but didn't think much of it at the time. Dave and I were getting ready to get off the chair and the next thing I knew, I was sliding...

The Fall

I remember not being able to stop. I remember trying to grab for the side rail (this lift didn't have the front bars). I remember screaming. I remember the impact and falling over. It all happened so fast. I was later told that it happened so fast that Dave heard me scream and by the time he turned his head my direction, I was gone. 

I remember laying in the snow... or maybe I should call it concrete snow... or maybe even ice. If it was powder, I might have been able to ski away from the fall. Instead I lay there, on my side, scared to death and in tears. I knew something was instantly wrong. My lower back was throbbing and my legs felt heavy, but there was a little movement in them. I could move my arms and I never blacked out. I could hear Dave yelling from 15 feet above me not to move. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't paralyzed. I wanted to know everything was going to be okay...

I remember the upper lift operator by my side within seconds. He witnessed it from not even 20 feet away. I remember ski patrol showing up in waves. I remember Dave finally being able to get off the lift and be "by my side". The next several minutes seemed to last forever. When ski patrol mentioned getting the ambulance rolling, I knew it was probably bad. I just wanted to ski, that's all I wanted to do...

As the shock started to wear off, the pain started to kick in at the First Aid hut. Sharp pains shot through my shins and feet. I seriously thought that I had shattered bones in my legs and feet from the fall. Somehow the nurse and few ski patrollers that stuck around managed to get my Arc'teryx shell, pants and layers off without cutting them (I was worried... I love my Arc'teryx gear and it's not cheap. See? I clearly didn't realize how badly I was injured yet.). It felt like I was in there forever waiting for the ambulance. The pain was starting to get really bad - and I have a pretty high tolerance for it. They made makeshift splints for my legs to try and help ease the pain. It didn't do much good. It was then I learned that morphine does nothing to me. Nothing was helping. All I wanted to do was sit up because laying flat on my back was painful and kept getting worse. I was in tears. I remember Dave holding my hand and trying to keep me calm. I was scared... really, really scared...

When the ambulance finally arrived, little did I know how long and painful of a ride it would be to Fresno Community Regional Medical Center. Two hours of slow, curvy driving on the 41 and morphine doing nothing was getting to be too much. The pain started to shoot up through my thighs on the way to Fresno. I didn't know what all was wrong, but I just wanted the pain to go away. Every bump, every turn, every stop was painful. I just wanted to not feel the ride.

To be continued...