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. 

             

One More Surgery???

So it seems as though I have gotten myself into a little predicament here. Unfortunately, this week I am faced with a pretty tough decision that feels like it will affect every step I take for the rest of my life.

The days after my surgery quickly passed. The days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and I realized I wasn’t getting better. In fact I was getting much worse. It got to the point where I was not walking anywhere, was sending text to my loved ones say “THROBBING PAIN”,  and I was wishing I could take back my surgery. The surgery that was supposed to make me feel better. Of course, I decided this wasn’t normal and I needed to head back to my doctor.

My doctor took Xrays and Cat scans and the whole orderal. He found that the smaller bone in my ankle (fibula) rebroke without the support of the plates. This happened because apparently (news to me) it wasn’t fully healed when he took the plates out and so (even though I was cleared to do to these things) my weight from walking, biking, and running (once) rebroke the bone. 

So here are my options:

      

           A.     Wait it out. Use 1-2 crutches for a month or two and bare the pain. Hoping my bone will grow back on its own without a plate. 

         B.     Get surgery next week (sep 11) and get a small but permanent plate back into my ankle.

 Well, it’s really easier to be angry here and spend all day placing

blame on people. Whose fault is it that my bone rebroke? I can replay everything I did and everything my doctor said over and over in my head if that’s what I choose to do. But, what good what that do? Would blaming my doctor make me feel better? No. Would blaming myself make me feel better? Definitely not.

Life is life and shit happens. You can’t predict or control what will happen next. One minute your catching a cab home and the next thing you know you and your life is upside down. All you can do is get through it the best you can.  If I wait it out and hope my bone will heal it will be ok. even if my bone doesn’t heal it will still be ok. If I have surgery next week to get a permanent plate that will also be ok.  And for now, ok is just going to have to be good enough. The day will come when this will all be behind me and I can look back and me be really proud of myself. But today is not that day. Not yet. And that’s ok too.

6 Months 3 Surgeries Later

After training for marathons and running 50 miles per week I was  handed a piece of paper with a list of exercises I could do.  The list  included moving my ankle and down and scrunching  my toes in and out. I didn't think it could get much more depressing. I was wrong.  


After working on that crap for 2 hrs a day for 6 months and progressing so  much past toe scrunching getting handed that same damn paper again is beyond depressing, it's demoralizing.

The surgery went well and according to plan  but I was back to pain meds and wrapped up in bandages for a couple weeks. The surgery and bandages caused me to lose alot of range of motion again and the pain meds caused me to puke alot (all over my mom one morning)

It's safe to say now I will not being running the NYC marathon this November. You and everyone else who is reading this is thinking "duh Sarah, I could have told you that months ago." but while it was obvious to you, I held onto that hope until Saturday. Saturday I  defied my Physical therapist and ran 2 miles which left me in physical and mental tears for the rest of  weekend. Good times for everyone around me. Not sure if my mom preferred that or the vomit.

So here's the attitude I should have "omg I'm already off crutches! so exciting! I don't have any metal in my leg! I am so so lucky!!!!! There's no metal poking me when I walk yayyyy! I can walk 10 blocks without pain. I am such a rockstar!"

Don't get me wrong I am so happy and relieved about all of those things. Seriously. Just like everyone who tells me I should be happy to be alive. Right, I'm happy the car didn't kill me and I'm still a breathing human. But really, just six months ago walking and breathing seemed like givens and I remember those times a bit too often.

Walking and breathing are great. I will wake up everyday and look at my crutches and thank god I'm finally done with them. And maybe  I'm asking alot here given everything that's happened but I just want to be able to do what I love. I don't really care what the odds are anymore. I know myself and I know I will not give up... I will not give up...I will not give up...

Surgery Tomorrow

I sat in the doctors office today for 2 and a half anxious hours surrounded by a complete freak show. I can only call the people in the orthopedic surgeons office freaks because I was (am) one of them. Canes, crutches, walkers, wheelchairs, limp they had it all. In the last 6 months I have used all of the above at one point or another. Just whe I felt like I was done, the finish line was in sight, my doctor tattooed his initials, DGL, with permanent marker onto the longest scar along my leg. 

 I knew exactly what it meant. That was the first thing he did when he saw me in the emergency room 6 months ago.  He explained my next surgery, the removal of plates, will be tomorrow at 7am.  Anywhere between 0-2 nights in the hospital and I can ease myself off crutches when ready.  2 weeks of no exercise and then freedom to do anything I want. According to him, “it’s a piece of cake.”

Last year on July 31 I was standing at the starting line of the San Francisco marathon with one goal in sight: Boston. I needed to run the San Fran marathon and break my PR to run boston. This year on July 31 I need to undergo another serious surgery to run Boston. But Boston’s not the only goal in sight anymore. There are other goals that are even more important now. Like learning to appreciate everything I can do and everyone I have around me.  And how about walking without a limp? That would be nice too. 

Decisions

When I woke up this morning I lay there for a long time debating if I should really get up to go to the gym. I lay there dreading the walk from the bedroom to the bathroom. A total of about 10 steps. When I wake up in the morning walking hurts more than usual. I get pain from my shin to the  bottom of my heel because it's pretty stiff.

While I lay there trying to decide if I really had to bare this pain yet I thought about what I should do to work out today. I ran through list of options elliptical, bike (w out standing unless I want more pain tomorrow), row, cross fit , or some combination of two. These options made me strongly consider the option of turning  off my alarm  and staying in bed for awhile longer.

I guess I should probably tell you I'm not currently able to run. If you've been following my progress you know that about a month ago I ran one mile and felt pretty good while running.

Well, the real story is I spent the next 2 weeks paying for it. I went back to an awful limp, shin splints, IT band knee pain, and lower back issues. Basically, I went out too soon and every other part of my body over compensated for my weakness from the knee down. 

So can I bare the pain of running for 10 minutes? Yes. Is it worth it right now? NO. Not an easy decision to make. A decision I have to remake everyday.

Instead, In physical therapy I am now working on the Alter G, anti gravity treadmill, where I put 50 percent of my weight on it and the rest is lifted by the air of the treadmill.  Cool Video on The Anti Gravity Treadmill 

Before actually deciding to go back go sleep I looked at my phone. Monday, July 16. I instantly realized I was exactly 2 weeks away from my pre op appointment. 15 days from having everything out of my ankle. I finally felt like  I was on the home stretch. Yes, my next surgery will be a step back. But every marathoner slows down around mile 17. You have to slow down at some point if you want to finish strong.

With that last bit of hope, I decided to get out of bed.

The First Mile

5 years ago after my first year of college I had put on the freshman 15 (and then some) along with being dumped.  This left me sitting on my front porch so lost, depressed, and unconfident. I looked down at my old Nike sneakers that I had originally bought for style and decided I would go for a run. It seemed to be a solution to all my problems. I made it one mile and literally thought I might die the entire time. Yet at the end of the run I felt better.

Today, I found myself in the same place on my porch. This time I luckily hadn't been dumped but I had lost something that hurt just as bad. Looking down at my untoned injured body I still found myself feeling lost, depressed, and unconfident. I looked down at my mizuno wave rider 14s that I had bought for shape, arch support, weight, and speed. I decided to do the one thing I knew how to do to make myself feel better, run. I ran that exact same first mile again.

Since the accident I always wondered if when I got back to it would I be starting from scratch or would I have some of my muscle memory left? I still don't really have the answer. While my ankle throbbed, the pins caused horrible shin splits, and there was a shooting pain all the way into my IT band, I still ran a very solid pace and didn't break a sweat. With that being said, I dont think I could have made it step further. One more surgery and all that pain will go away, right?

I ran to feel confident, I ran to be happy, I ran to problem solve, I ran to cool anxiety, I ran to stay fit, I ran to distract myself, I ran to feel better, I ran to be better,  I ran to win.

As painful as it might be mentally and physically--  every time I run I feel myself getting all of those things back a little bit more.

We've got LOTS to celebrate.

At 3:30 PM Monday afternoon my doctor shook my hand and said, "Sarah, you had a terrible injury and you have recovered incredibly well."


I wanted to think to myself "of course I did, I always knew I would do my part."  But in reality, him telling me that I had progressed better than others and came back from such a bad injury is what I had been needing and hoping to hear for months. The firm handshake, the  sincere  words, and overall enthusiasm from my doctor was my confirmation that I really could do it. 


According to him, due to my progress, I am able to spend the next two months "pounding away" because no matter what I can do I can no longer damage my ankle. My physicaly therapist is going to hold me off on running for a bit longer. Another day without running when I know I can't hurt myself seems unbearable. But it's the long term need for complete and full recovery to get my distance and pace back that keeps from stepping off the elyptical and onto the tredmil everyday.


He also allowed me to schedule my last surgery to remove those metal things sticking out of my ankle that cause severe shin splints. First week of August, in an out, quick recovery. done.


When I got home I threw my aircast in the corner of my closet, along with my crutches, boot, splint, ankle cranker, and ankle weights. I am not going to be modest. Today, I felt proud. So proud.


When I have fully recovered (because I know I will) after the surgery I am going to have a huge "recovery/thank you for your support party." Your invite? Reading this blog.  We've got LOTS to celebrate. 

A Long Road Home

Last Memorial Day weekend I found myself in the Hamptons. This weekend consisted of me waking up at dark hours of the morning to do a 17 mile training run on the water, which I loved every second of. My run left me feeling free and confident on the beach followed by caloriless beer and fun aggressive late nights.

For this years Memorial Day weekend, I had made a goal to run my first mile or two. It would mark the four weeks when my doctor told me I would be allowed to do "whatever I want." My goal was then altered my my physical therapist when she told me that realistically I won't be running till I have no pain walking. Unfortunately, I am yet to take one step without a limp or pain.

This Memorial Day weekend I found myself at Figawi in Nantucket, pushing through people in a bar trying not to get toppled over in search of a place to sit down. After an hour had passed and all the blood had rushed to my ankle there was no where to sit or a table to lean up against. Without a 17 miler, or even a single mile in 3 month I was feeling beyond tense. My boyfriend and a few friends left the bar realizing it wasn't the best of situations. The situation was made worse when there were no open cabs.

And after another hour of standing and trying to hail a cab, we bit the bullet and decided that the only option was to walk.... walk the 2 miles home.

How did I walk 2 miles home? I didn't. My boyfriend carried me on his back the entire way. His idea.

We are defined and create our identities by MOMENTS of IMPACT. In 5 years I will not remember the 17 mile run and night I had in the Hamptons last year. But I can garentee that for the rest of my life I will tell the story about the boy who cared enough to give me a piggy back ride all the way home.

Clearly, the road to recovery is much longer than I could have ever imagined. But luckily all these defining moments in between will make every step worth it.

Three Months After The Accident

What I can do three months after the accident:

1.      WALK without help of anything
2.       Go on the elliptical!!!!!
3.       Take the subway
4.       Sit at dinner with my foot down without intolerable pain
5.       Wear flats instead of sneakers
6.       Open doors with my hands
7.       Carry my own things (food, papers, keys, ect)
8.      Use a purse and or clutch 
9.      Throw a football and catch a football (if thrown directly at me)
10.      Take my students outside!

What I still can’t do 3 months after the accident:

1. Walk without a limp and pain
2. Walk around without a dorky air cast
3. Jump
4. Squat
5. Go down the stairs normally
6. Go to bed without icing
7. Get through the day without Tylenol
8. Wear heels
9. Get myself into reasonable shape
10. Run

Before the accident I was a runner the  all of a sudden I was someone with an injury who couldn’t walk. Now I am just this person who walks around like everyone else and everyone thinks I’m just normal. But there’s a constant pain in my ankle that is always reminding me of how different I still feel, and more importantly how far away I am from where I really want to be, running. 

Todays That Day....

Todays that day that I had been waiting for what feels like forever. My physical therapist said I no longer had to use one crutch, and I was free to always walk on my own. 


I looked down to my watch to check the date, March 14th. Exactly three month after the accident.


Sayonara, crutches. I'll see you in August.

The 5:30 AM Text Message

After spending the day at home for mothers day, I pulled away from the new haven train station and I looked down at my phone. One text message from my boyfriend that read. "you seem so happy again" 

I then realized for the first weekend in a long time I almost felt like myself. I felt like I lived my weekend like I would have any other weekend before the accident. The only difference was instead of running the loops of central park, I attempted to walk which failed and ended in a romantic piggy back ride.  

My life was turned upside down because I took a thoughtless step into the road. While I progress and reflect I realize how much that not only effected me but also so many people around me as well. It's easy for me to tell you my story and give you my perspective of things. And it's easy for you to have sympathy and feel for me, but there so much to be said for the people who didn't take that step into the road whose lives where effected just as much. 

My mom was sitting down to watch her favorite TV show when she got the phone call. Her and my father immediately got in the car and sped their way into the city. 

When my mom arrived at the hospital she found me by the sounds of my screaming. She immediately grabbed my hand and patted my head repeating "you're ok, moms here" over and over. I don’t remember her ever leaving my side until I went into surgery the next morning. 

My mom spent the next 3 weeks in New York City. Going home about 1-2  times just to get clothes Sacrificing time at her job, trip to Florida, and just about everything else. 

Every morning my dad would leave the hospital at 3:00 or 4:00 am and then my mom would send me a text at 5:30 am telling me she was on her way. I spent that hour and a half alone staring at my phone waiting for her text. I always told her she could sleep in but hoping she wouldn’t. Not surprisingly, she never did. 

When she got there she would do my hair, talk to my doctors, and do her best to get me to eat. Then she would sit and talk to me for hours. I tried to thank her and apologize over and over but she always told me it wasn't allowed.

Once I was back home she would make me breakfast every morning and make sure I ate every bite. She walked all over the city getting groceries, new outfits to fit over my array of casts, and our favorite cupcakes.

When my mom needed to take some days back at work she would take the train from NYC to New London and back all in one day. Just so I didn't have to spend a night alone.

She still never misses a doctors appointment and calls or texts everyday to make sure I'm ok. I couldn't feel this happy or have made this progress without all of  her help.

Happy Mothers Day, Mom. I've never loved you so much. 

Two steps forward, One step back

At the start of this week I was the most  relieved I had felt in a long time. Being able to walk was the best news because it released me to do so many more things. Yet, I had this little voice in the back of my head reminding me that though this is a step forward it will be really painful. I decided to ignore that little voice and dive into this headfirst.

On Monday..

I took the subway which included so much walking to and from.

I took my students to recess again so much walking

I lost the crutch whenever I was inside

I increased the time on the bike

By Friday...

I was crying at yelling at my boyfriend when he was trying to help me parallel park. Was I yelling because I suck at parallel parking? No, that's old news. I was just yet again, in so much pain. Which he of course, yet again, understood.

If you take a look at that XRAY you might start to understand why this feels so bad with every step I take. The screws which you can really see at the bottom of my ankle really hurt when I take a step. This leaves me with a really unattractive painful limp.

By Sunday...

I had spent the weekend in the pool. I walked back and forth back and forth back and forth. With no limp. I pool ran back and forth back and forth back and forth. Really slowly. I swam back and forth back and forth back and forth. 

Walking definitely still hurts, but not as bad. Which leaves me hope that next week the pain will be more barable and the limp will slowly go away. The idea that this is painful process isn't going away anytime soon is slowly sinking in. For the longest time I believed that as soon as I was off crutches I would be back to normal and walking perfectly. And at the start of this week I was still believing as soon as they released me to run and I would be running, like usual. But that too will be a slow painful process. 

Now that I've accepted that I think it will come with a little more ease and less of my own push back and denial of my own pain. I might actually start to listen to that voice in my head. And in the meantime I won't be crossing off the days till I can do it again because now I know it won't come all at once. With that said, I'm going to pool, to run.

Light at the end of the tunnel

Sometimes all the good stuff happens in one day.  

Today was one of those days....

 1) Talked to a new resident about my injury, and he gave me much more time and thought than my usual doctor. Not to mention he was really sexy. MMMMMMM

2) My grumpy, wordless, less sexy doctor told me to walk on my toes and heels and I was able to do it.

3)   He released me to walk with all my weight. Having one crutches at times and no crutches at other WOOOOOOOW FREEEDOM!!!!! Note the video!

4)   According to the doctor in 5 weeks, I will be released to do “whatever I want” (and we all know what I WANT to do)

5) My doctor and PT both expressed such excitement and shock with how much I had progressed in the short amount of time.

6)  I  got cupcakes, donuts, and new summer short shorts to celebrate

7)  BAA emailed me just to confirm I will be running Boston next year. Thanks for the reminder, I almost forgot.

8) I cried with my mom because I was HAPPY. I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. For the first time.

I felt more happy and relieved today than I ever have finishing any race in my life. The marathon I’m running right now is so much more challenging than anything in my past. Every major mile marker is a huge accomplishment.