"Birds make great sky-circles
of their freedom.
How do they learn it?
They fall, and falling,
they are given wings."

-Rumi (translated by Coleman Barks)

Friday, October 21, 2011

Butterflies

Recently we are having brilliant weather. The leaves are turning, and the sun is shining through them to create autumn kaleidoscopes. There are rolling clouds accompanied by a faint wind that is just breezy enough to fly a kite successfully (which is really all that matters). Comfy clothing is back, along with the savory scents of bread, pumpkin, and campfires.

This weather just demands long winding drives, with open vistas of oranges, yellows, and reds amidst the green landscape. One day last week I was out cruising to wonderful music, making waves with my hand out the window, and all of a sudden a monarch butterfly flew directly in front of my car. For almost a minute we flew together, and I watched it gracefully dance as if by magic.

The next day I went for a lumbar MRI, and on my way to the facility a monarch appeared again in front of my car. Even though I was miles from the previous location, I like to think it was the same butterfly. I will never forget the way their wings glowed, flooded by sunlight.

I found out a few days later that my MRI came back clean. No obstruction in my lower back, vertebrae are in place, etc. I think this is the first clean MRI I have gotten back in four years. I was shocked. And then shocked that I was shocked. I have become so accustomed to the odds not being in my favor that I have adopted the wrong mindset.

The even better news is I have been feeling less pain on most days. I do believe I feel my body healing itself. This is when I'm supposed to be noticing some relief from the prolotherapy, so I really think it is helping. Which makes it all worth it. I am still anxious about what's to come, but I'm holding steadfast to hope. My next treatment isn't until November 17th, so there's more time to notice improvement. When I stop to really think about it, I get choked up. There's been a few tears this week, only because I don't even know what I will do if this is the final stretch. That's a lie. I will go out dancing. I will run a marathon. I will climb everything. I will be carefree. I will be happy.

I've been spending a lot of time reminiscing how far I've come. The constant in my life has always been my family and friends, who have stood by me no matter what. I have always been slow to trust and let people in, but these wonderful beings took the time to break down all my walls. I have been so much happier lately and have not needed to rely on them like I used to. It is so comforting to know I have people in my life who accept and love all parts of me. And who will be there for whatever lies ahead. I owe them everything. I stumbled upon this song a few days ago, and it's been playing nonstop. It's called Rely by Alex Cornish and it's here as a tribute to everyone who got me through this far.



Right now I'm taking each day as it comes. I am anxiously awaiting decisions from physical therapy programs. I'm icing, stretching, and doing yoga on a regular basis. I'm working, taking classes, and enjoying every minute of fall. And of course, I'm always on the lookout for more butterflies.

Saturday, October 8, 2011

Three's a charm

Thursday marked my third prolotherapy treatment and it went much better than anticipated. I'd like to say I walked in with a larger batch of courage, but I think it had a lot to do with the two Demerol injections I received at the office.

But sure, let's say I was much better prepared this go around. Really, I was. I did yoga the day before to balance my chi. I had a fun, relaxing night. I woke up feeling confident and ready for the challenge ahead. I brought earphones and made a rockin' Beethoven playlist in the car. I did not take the Xanax and felt like myself. I walked in the office, on time, with a clear and steady mind. I was immediately brought back by the nurse where I signed the necessary paperwork, and then got a Demerol injection into my hip by my specialist. Both he and my super tall nurse remarked how bony my hips were and I smiled. Then, I took off my pants and put on the open-backed hospital gown, and positioned myself on the table. Then the whole crew came in- my dad, doctor, and the nurse and I was asked if I felt the Demerol. I did not feel much of a difference, so I received a second injection into my hip, and then we began.

I put on my headphones and transported myself into a different place of symphonies and high vaulted concert halls and standing ovations. My dad and I also worked on my breathing, which I was able to control this time. In all honesty, the whole process went very smoothly. Yes I still felt pain, but it was nothing compared to the previous two times. In fact, I was in high spirits and attempting a few jokes. We tried to take pictures of all the long needles sticking out of my butt and hips so I could feel like a badass. Or a pin cushion. Now you see why I was only attempting jokes. Don't worry, pictures will never go up here.

We went a bit longer than the previous two treatments, around an hour and fifteen minutes. I think we tackled more spots in different locations, especially my lower back- lumbar area specifically. I'm hopeful that this all might be working because examination felt better in certain area we hit aggressively last time. Soon I will also be getting an MRI of my lower back to see if there are any nerve structure issues. The doctor wants this new information to better treat me in the future. I also received my first treatments on the anterior portion of my body. Using very small needles, Dr. Magaziner injected all of my hip scars, as well as my two long pelvis scars.

I feel the need to reiterate how well the treatment went. I was on quite the high because I felt I was ahead for once. It was the same feeling I get after reaching a summit. Nothing can touch you.

The Demerol did not make me hazy and I still felt I had control over myself. Unfortunately the side effects of Demerol include nausea, so I went to lie down in the room next door after we were finished. I did not get sick, and the doctor quickly injected my hip with some anti-nausea medication.

Back at home, I got in bed and put some ice on all the areas that were injected. I was very sore, especially feeling pain in my lower back and hips. Bending over was definitely not an option. I rested in bed all day, and spent most of the time sleeping off the Demerol. When I woke up in the morning, I still felt a lot of pain in my hips and lower back, making it difficult to move around. So the recovery was a bit more difficult than previous times. But I woke up today (two days later) feeling almost as good as new. The important things were to lay down, rest, and ice.

It's been a pretty crazy week. Monday I was in the emergency room for a terrible terrible ear injection. I missed my second anatomy lecture because of it. I'm frustrated how much my body continues to fight against me, but I try to remain levelheaded. Some days I just want to burst. I'm tired of being stuck- I want to wake up and go for a run. I want to go out and dance. I want to play tennis. I want to climb. I want to push my body and embrace it. But I know I must stay patient and wait and heal and work through it.

I can do this. I can do this. We can do this. Some days we walk ablaze with hope, and some days we just continue.

If you are in need of some hope, I've got a great dose of it right here: A young deaf woman hears for the first time. Imagine what it will be like to feel healthy again and let's keep on together.

Monday, October 3, 2011

From the book: Poems to Live by in Uncertain Times

September

by Jennifer Michael Hecht

Tonight there must be people who are getting what they want.
I let my oars fall into the water.
Good for them. Good for them, getting what they want.

The night is so still that I forget to breathe.
The dark air is getting colder. Birds are leaving.

Tonight there are people getting just what they need.

The air is so still that it seems to stop my heart.
I remember you in a black and white photograph
taken this time of some year. You were leaning against
a half-shed tree, standing in the leaves the tree had lost.

When I finally exhale it takes forever to be over.

Tonight, there are people who are so happy,
that they have forgotten to worry about tomorrow.

Somewhere, people have entirely forgotten about tomorrow.
My hand trails in the water.
I should not have dropped those oars. Such a soft wind.