How to “Recover” from a Traumatic Injury

I always told myself I would post on this blog again once I had recovered. After I ran my first 5 mile race I thought—ok should I post now? Is this it? Am I recovered?  Then I ran my first half marathon and still felt like I wasn’t recovered. Even when I ran a second half marathon where my pace was actually speak-aloud-able I still didn’t feel like I could post.  This wasn’t a full marathon. This wasn’t a recovery. In trying to figure out if I had fully recovered yet I googled recovery. Here’s what it said

Recovery: “return to a normal state of health, mind, or strength.”

At that moment I realized that I will never turn back to NORMAL and so I will never recover. Because the accident has changed me. It has forced me to grow. I have created a new normal. A new better normal.  Here’s how I got there.

(Please keep in mind this part of "recovery" comes after finishing PT and being completely cleared by a doctor)

 1) Don’t listen to other peoples experience or advice. Your experience is your own.They will bring you down. Over and over again. They will want to tell you all about how long it took them and the pain they still have.  This includes me. Your experience, recovery, and time frame will be unique to you.

 2)   Learn your injury and your limits. Know when to stop. Learn the difference between an achy pain because you’re rehabbing from a sharp pain because you’re pushing yourself to hard.

3) Throw away your timeline and calendar. Don’t give yourself a date when you want to be back at a certain pace, mileage, ect.  Rushing yourself with an injury equals hurting yourself. Steps back cause frustration you probably can't deal with.

4)  Talk to someone who knows a thing or two about traumatic incidents. Let them help you. You won’t get anywhere with constant fear. Running isn’t really possible if you’re too scared to cross the street.  Good luck running marathons a on a treadmill.

5) Run with friends- the conversation will ease and distract you from new unusual anxiety producing  pain and they won't let you push yourself too far.  They’ll also force you to cross the street even when cars are a little close.  Exposure therapy. 

6)   Go to Barry’s Bootcamp—the incline and short spurts on the treadmill won't hurt as bad as miles and miles of pounding and will kick your ass into shape fast. Will also help get some speed back.

7)  Have a completely different workout routine than before the accident—in fact don’t have a routine at all. Your injury will feel different all the time so you have to go with the flow. If you planned to run 6 miles tomorrow but you woke up and your ankle was swollen and sore sounds like you'd have to go to spin instead. Oh well. 

8)  Start small—get comfortable with short distance and short races first so you can still feel awesome and not completely crippled.

9)  Have a pre accident PR and a post accident PR. People will tell you to only compare yourself to post accident so you can see your progress. They’re right—you need to keep track of your progress and give yourself so many props for how fair you’ve come. But they’re also wrong- keep your pre accident self in the back of your mind so you stay determined. 

10) During a race (when you have more than enough time to think and distract yourself from the annoying pain you still have) take time to think about everyone who got you here. Moms, Dads, friends, boyfriends, coworkers, doctors, and kick ass physical therapists. 

Over 2 years later not much of the accident still really gets to me. Not the pain, not the quick flashbacks of the accident, not the scars. But as I sit down to write this I realize there is one part that is still bringing on the I’m about to cry feeling in my chest.  And that’s the love and support everyone gave me.

I will never say I am happy that this happened to me and I would never want to go through it again. 
But what I learned about the love and kindness of so many people around me I will never ever take back.

A Year In Pictures

It's hard not to feel frustrated knowing that today marks a year from my accident. It's hard not to focus on all the things I can't do yet. But, when I sit down and think about everything I got through it's hard not to feel proud.

With that, I made "the year later post" made up of pictures. Because if I look at through pictures and all the steps I have made it through it's so me easier to view it as something i've overcome rather than something that's getting in my way.

Valentines Day 2012, I went to Megans to bake Frank cookies. 

The cookies, minutes before they we're splattered all over York Ave.

From Boston to New York in the middle of the night, Frank made it to the hospital as well as with my parents. 

Surgery 1: The external fixater, a stabilization device. Metal rods attached to my knee and heel.

I was home with that thing for a week! Luckily, I was too drugged to realize what was even going on. 

Surgery two: 3 plates, 21 secrew. Couldn't they just give me a cast?

Ouch, this new metal leg REALLY hurts.

First form of protection, a soft cast.

3 weeks after the accident.. 31 stitches

Hey wait, I'm tugging on my ankle as hard as I can and it won't move.. at all. Not even a cm. No one prepared me for that.

Weeks later.. upright and standing. With a little help. 

-10 pounds later..

First bite.. Carbo loading 

Stitch wounds, trying to heal. Lots of neosporan..

After I had the realization I wouldn't be getting off these things for half a year, I decided to style them up. Crutch purse, most brilliant invention. 

This is what I like to call "the crank" also known as a torture devise. 30 minutes a session, 3 times a day x4 months. How I got my motion back..

First workout. And the wonderful boot.

3 months later.. The aircast. And some sneakers to go along with my new crutch walk 

My official Boston Marathon time. HA

Surgery 3..:"the removal of hardware"

A break through my empty screwhole. MY WORST NIGHTMARE. devastating.

10 month later, Recovery Party

11 months later.. My first night in heels 

Today... My body.. My biography.

When things are really hard, sometimes you just get through it without even thinking about what happened. Now that I am mentally and physically OK I can actually sit back and think about everything that happened. HOLY SHIT. 

Thank god for my wonderful parents, family, boyfriend, and friends. I could not have done it without them. When I got off the tred mill today, after finishing 3 miles at a 7:45 pace,  I thanked god for my drive, too. 

Dedicated to: Dr. Dean Lorich, my very attractive doctor, who i've spent way too much time with and "is sick of seeing me" but managed to piece my shattered ankle back together. Best orthopedic surgeon out there. Gotta love this guy.

A Very Happy New Year

              On December 19^th, over 10 months after the accident, my physical therapist cleared me to “run.” She said I could run for 5-10 minutes but had to trust myself and listen to my body (we all know how good I am at that).  While this was the best Christmas gift anyone could have given me, I was terrified. I knew it would be painful and mentally challenging. Before I laced on my running shoes I waited a couple days. I waited till I had a day off from work, and I was at home on the safe roads of CT where I knew my course perfectly. I rested the day before I ran because I knew this would be painful and discouraging and a soar ankle from activity the day before would make it that much worse.

              I was right, the first run was BRUTAL. I ran for 7 minutes and literally watched the clock every minute. My foot, ankle, and knee throbbed every step. Not to mention I felt incredibly out of shape. Limping my way back to my house I wondered if running was really something I should ever do again. Was it really worth it? Bone was healed, motion and flexibility were intact, and it was still a miserable experience.

         2 weeks later, I am able to run 2 miles.. no pain, no limp.  I’ve discovered through trial and error the importance of speed walking prior to running and fixing my stride.  So this excitement, endorphins, and passion has obviously made sit down and create a training plan so I can cross the 2013 Boston Marathon finish line. Yet, I am completely aware that is setting extremely high expectations.

         As my dad reminded me this Christmas, he was “so happy just to have me at Christmas, alive and well.” During New Years Frank admitted “I spent that last year questioning if you would be able to ever live a normal life again. I wanted so badly for you just to do day to day things without pain. What you did and how well you're doing after splitting you leg in 4 different places is almost a miracle.” With that, my new years resolution this year will be to make sure I am able to stop when it's too much. And remind myself just how lucky I am that I can live everyday without any pain. If running and training for the marathon stops me from living my life pain free, it won’t be worth it.

2012 hit me hard for a reason. It taught me to just be thankful for everything that I am able to do and everyone I have. But most importantly, it taught me when to stop. It taught me when to say to myself  “Sarah, that enough now, if you continue it won’t do you any good.”  But luckily, I don't need to say that yet. And if I keep on keeping on, I’ll see you at the finish line. 







What it takes to writer submission guidelines with runners world

Here... Take Your Life Back.

            Every single time I go to the doctors they hand me this stupid 10 page survey to fill out. Theres about 100 questions about my range of motion, pain, and activitly level.  And then you turn to the last page and they stop asking you about your injury and instead your emotion state. Clearly, they are trying to collect data about traumatic injuries effecting emotional state. Unfortunately every time I have to honestly admit and remind myself I haven’t been as happy or as they put it “peppy” since the accident.

       On Monday, November 12^th everything changed. I was prepared to hear “Sarah, like I predicted, we need to operate on Thursday and put a permanent plate in your leg.” Here’s how that translates in my life, probably would have to drop my NYU classes and start them again next semester, another 2 weeks of from work, weeks of pain killers, hospital rooms, and puking, and last but certainly not least, pain if I ever choose to run again. Awesome, a perfect diagnosis for success, happiness, and what they would call “pep,” In preparation for this I had not made Thanksgiving, Christmas, or any plans. When my friends would text me about the holidays and my plans I just wouldn’t respond, because I really didn’t know what to say. When my boyfriend tried to plan a trip for the holidays, I pushed back because who knew what state I would be in or what I would be able to do.

    Instead, what my doctor saw was what he considered “A HEALED BONE.”  Which means “if you don’t mess this up by running again, we won’t have to operate and in no time you will be free to run and do anything you would like”  (at this point I probably should have punched him because he was blaming me for rebraking my ankle, but  let’s focus on the positive)

         Ok, so if you look at the XRAY you are probably thinking the same thing as me—That doesn’t look healed at all. Well, you’re right. It’s actually not completely healed, but according to a surgeon it is close enough to healed that surgery is not the right choice and it will heal on its own. So the slight pain I have is nothing to worry about and will go away with time. It’s actually the best news he could have possibly given me.  And with that explanation, I swear he placed my life back into my hands. No, I can’t do everything I want yet. but who the fuck cares? I WILL BE ABLE TO. Even now, from this partial healing I can bike (30 miles!), go out, use the subway, and celebrate Thankgiving without being drugged on pain meds. I may even pass my classes.

         I spent this weekend just living my life like any other person but with a little extra celebration of the great news. And let me tell you – I most certainly had my “pep” back. 

A Non Unison Bone

HOW TO FORCE A NON UNISON BONE TO TURN INTO ONE COMPLETE BONE

(incase you ever have a bone that decides to stop growing)

  1)   After your doctor tells you have one, google what it is.

  2)   Accept that you have a very small chance of actually growing your bone together yourself without surgery. 

  3)   Decide you’ll try anyway.

  4)   Beg your doctor to give your bone a little more time before he actually declares it “dead” 

  5)   Take 3 doses of calcium a day (yeah, a grandma osteoporosis dosage)

   6)   Swim

  7) Water aerobics (while I’m there I can compare calcium dosages with the other grandmas)

   8)    take cabs when it swells

  9)   Walk on FLAT surfaces in flat shoes

  10)    Take elevators 

  11)  Rest, calm down, and accept that you can’t be as active as you used/want to be.

  12)  Accept who and where you are right now.

  13)   Don’t run (or bike or elyptical, or jump, or lunge, or anything else that would possibly create any endorphins)

  14)    Wait.   

  15)     Try on a thing called patience. It might look good on you.

According to the doctor today, in 6 weeks if my bone is still separated I’ll be back in the hospital with a metal plate in my leg for thanksgiving. In which case, I’m sure I’ll find something to be thankful for. I always do, right? 

Adjustment

I’ve learned something very interesting through out all of this. Something I am not sure I would have realized before.

With time, human beings are able to adjust.

7 months ago having to deal with crutches and boots or aircasts seemed like a nightmare. Now it just feels normal.

7 months ago having to take a cab everywhere seemed pretty terrible. Now, I don’t even think about it.

7 months ago being kept awake by my pain in my ankle was depressing and tiring. Now, it’s just how I sleep.

7 months ago my scars on my leg felt out of place and embarrassing. Now, it’s just me. My biography. 

7 months ago having to go to PT 3 times a week was a huge pain in my ass. Now, it’s a community of friends.

There’s still one thing though… Every time I walk outside with my head phones in and gym clothes on my body tells me to turn right and start jogging down towards the east river. Everytime, without fail, my body and mind thinks that’s what I’m about to do. But it’s not. Instead I remind myself that I am going to go to the gym to try and find something I can do.

Not being able to take that right turn, press play on my shuffle, and jog to the east river does not feel normal. And I hope I never adjust. 

Bone Growth Party!

      On Friday afternoon I went back to the hospital for my 4^th Pre Op appointment. My fourth surgery was scheduled for Tuesday. My doctor handed me the papers to sign (again) and I handed them right back without a signature. I asked him to take another x-ray. To give it a second look because my leg really felt better. The swelling had gone down as well as the pain and bruising. He walked back in the room after checking the xray and said 

 “Sarah, forget surgery for now I think you’re growing this bone.”

I was so happy I jumped off the doctor’s bed onto my feet, pump fisted the air, and screamed in excitement. He emotionlessly told me to sit back down and reminded me that knowing my bones, jumping up and down would probably break them.

Long story short if I can cool my jets and sit still for the next month before my next doc appointment he thinks(hopes) my bone will have grown back and he can officially call off surgery. So, you can keep your fingers crossed for me and I will just sit here… patiently. Trust me, 7 months later I’ve developed enough patience for a lifetime.

My recovery party was scheduled for Saturday. While some told me to cancel it, I just decided to turn it into a bone growth party. What happened last night way pretty amazing. Friends and family traveled from all over to celebrate the last 7 months. It was without question the most fun I had since the accident.

      When taking a moment this evening to let it all sink  I felt like everything hit me all at once. Everything that has happened started to bring me to tears (yeah, this crying thing is literally a whole new me).  More than anything though, I think I was really crying because of everything everyone has 

 done for me. Through out this entire process so many people have done such extraordinary things in such different ways. I know if I need another surgery I will have amazing people around me to support me. I know if running isn’t in my future (which it will be) I will have so many people to fall back on. Everything that happened over the last 7 months is extreme and hard to deal with.  But what’s even more extreme knowing just how amazing and supportive the people in my life really are. More than I could have ever imagined before. And for that, I feel really lucky.