Three months out from 10/31

Off exploring in canyon country

This photo crystallizes what my spirit and body have been craving all week: running long distances, breathing hard, sweating and exploring unknown terrain. The warm weather of the week reminded me of what I used to be able to do. Don't get me wrong-walking and swimming continue to give me peace of mind; I just now seem to be missing adventure and being out in the wild.
Even though I know that within is unknown territory to explore; I seem to gravitate more towards the other because going in is still uncomfortable. Tomorrow, in the nick of time, I will get a dose of inner stillness as I assist from the sidelines (while sitting in my bean bag chair) my friend Janet as she teaches a class on starting a sitting practice. We've taught this class together before-I tell her I've signed up for life as her co-teacher because I want to have an inner life. I learn something well when I know I will be teaching it. It seems fitting that the 3 month mark falls on the same day as the sitting class.
For my own sanity, it's time to begin to quantify where I am at on the physical front to keep my process in perspective.
I can wash my face and shampoo my hair with both hands. I still struggle with putting my hair in a pony tail on top of my head.
I have been able to sleep 3 nights in a row without the cervical collar.
I only take aleve or vicadin a few times a week. I continue to test the limits of how long I can go without medication because I am better at managing my pain.
I can sleep thru the night more consistently and without night sweats or hot flashes!
I am more comfortable driving, but not sharp or responsive so I limit myself to once a week when I drive to Boulder.
I went grocery shopping on my own for the first time today.
I expanded my wardrobe from only button down shirts to pull overs.
I completed by myself 4th quarter payroll and end of the year corporate tax preparation. It took ALL day. The good news is my brain worked well.
I can swim 3 days a week and walk 4 days a week.
I cried a fair amount this week and it did not hurt my ribs.

On the outside, no one would ever know that I had broken any bones. On the inside, my bones, muscles, tissues and cells are still healing not to mention my spirit. I am struggling to find a way to relate to where I currently am in my recovery. I feel a lot of sadness. I guess you could say I am grieving my former self.
In a few days, Matt heads out to Illinois to celebrate his father's 75th birthday. He's the surprise element of the celebration. Already I feel uneasy over having him gone. It will be interesting to see what it feels like to be in our home without him. I've never experienced that since I was the one away on road trips. Life constantly hands out exactly what one needs to grow.

In closing, the high point of the week has been the continued support from clients and friends. I now have 10 hours of a personal chef's time to help me with food preparation. How awesome is that? I can't believe people still want to help me. It blows me away. I love the letters and emails of encouragement. One person said she had a dream about me. It's not the first one either. She said she saw me strong, graceful, smiling, content and at peace. I am glad others can shine the light when I can't seem to muster it myself.

Finding Balance

Finding balance between my spiritual life, love of training, eating well, spending time with friends, my relationship with Matt, our home and work (now physical therapy) has been a constant struggle my entire life.
As I continue to get stronger in my rehab that underlying issue has been brought back to life. A positive sign for sure that I am healing. And, there are still consequences to being out of balance. The lesson once again is when I forget to step back and assess the whole; the "over doing it" part of me completely takes over.
Point in case: last week I attended physical therapy five days in a row. Therapy has been permanently upped to 4x week to make sure all the body parts that need assistance get worked. In addition, I swam three times with the longest one being a 1000 meters of alternating 200 yards kick with 200 yards swim. I even swam a straight 100 freestyle with flip turns. Yippee!!!!!! I can tell my swimming self has returned. Muscle memory is amazing-that's my friend these days.
Over the past two weeks, I've met with 4 orthopedic surgeons about my acl tear and patella femural arthritis. The Boulder doctor recommended I hold off on surgery for 3 months to give my body more time to heal. What great advise! How did he know that's exactly what I need to do?,
Other highlights include surprising myself by being able to comfortable mediate with a group of friends for 40 minutes while sitting on a comfy couch with big pillows, of course! Afterwards, Matt and I celebrated with Linda (amazing blogger Linda) and her partner, Jack my being in recovery. The evening began with perfectly chilled champagne followed by homemade appetizers, pasta, salad and tiramisu. I feel so fortunate to be so loved.
The following day, two very dear friends from Kentucky, my home state stopped by for a visit before heading to Breckenridge to ski, sled and snowmobile. I topped off that evening by driving myself for the first time in the dark to study group. Needless to say, by the time Sunday morning rolled around I was spent. Even still, it was not until after walking to the recreation center, riding the recumbent bike for 35 minutes then walking home that I knew I had over done it.

Clearly, trauma takes its toll on a deep, deep level and finding balance is still a challenge for me. I am trying not to be hard on myself, yet at the same time I need to learn the lesson. I've spent today taking it easy. After PT, I watched a documentary on stress hormones with Lasey, our 20 lb tabby cat that follows me everywhere now. I also opted to nap for several hours instead of working on 4th quarter payroll discrepancies.

I suspect tomorrow will be more of the same until I climb back out of this hole.

Week Eleven-Talking with my climbing parnter about what happened

After waiting many weeks to talk with Karla about what happened the day I fell in Boulder canyon, we finally had that conversation last night. As soon as I saw her, immediately I sensed a softness in her chest-something that's been missing. I felt tremendous relief. She has had to sort through her own trauma response to my accident and that has not been easy for her.
Karla has been my climbing partner since we climbed together for the first time in City of Rocks, Idaho back in 2005. When I met her she had recently left her secure, well paying corporate job and was heading off to South Africa for 6 months. Right away we were drawn to each other and recognized our shared love for adventure, travel and climbing. I admired her courage to leave her "known" life for a year to explore the "unknown".
Climbing with her over the years has played a significant role in my being able to reach more of my potential as a lead climber. My strength has always been my mental ability to be intensely focused, stay on task and overcome fear as a leader and her strength has been route finding, rope management, setting up rappels and descending. Our varied experiences of sport and traditional climbing on road trips and locally created a strong bond and confidence in each other as climbers.

On the day of my accident, I completely forgot myself. She saw the disconnect and addressed it, but I did not listen. Twice, she offered to retrieve the rope knowing I was wearing the wrong kind of shoes for scrambling, in addition, to suggesting I change back into my technical climbing shoes. Earlier in the day, I had lead successfully 5 new climbs after not climbing for 6 weeks. Even though it was a warm, sunny day, we agreed to quit early while we were still ahead of the game. During the descent I slipped on the first rappel and hit my head. This was something that had never happened to me before. On the second rappel, I wore my helmet. In retrospect, we both recognized the foreshadowing of my slipping. Her concern over how disconnected I was only increased when I insisted on retrieving my rope because I got it stuck.
The mistakes I made were attempting to retrieve the rope in the state I was in and not assessing the situation, making a plan or consulting with my partner. It was as if some kind of compulsion within took over and in the situation I did what I do well. I just pushed through thinking I could get the job done.
Early in my life that mind set had a place and served me quite well. Unfortunately, I adopted it as a way of being. My accident has revealed to me how much that way of being actually has hurt me and alienated me from myself. I realize now that it's essential to check in with myself first before taking any kind of action.

As for how I fell, it was not backwards like I thought. Nor did I bounce off rocks like a bowling ball. Actually, I fell through the air, like superman chest first with my arms outstretched before hitting a ledge with the left side slamming into a protruding rock. This explains why I have a large air pocket in the lower lobe of my left lung. I saw the ground coming and gasped! I have no recollection of any of this other than reaching for a hold with my right hand and slipping.
What has been a constant theme through out my experience in the hospital and since I've been home is what's gone right and that turns out to be the case with my rescue. Karla was able to reach 911 while sitting beside me. Getting a cell phone signal in the canyon is unheard of not to mention that Boulder is one of only two other cities in the nation that can handle two rescue calls at the same time which was the case the day of my rescue. I also learned that two not one needle injections occurred in an effort to re-inflate my lung. The thought of that not going well gives me the shivers. Karla also shared with me a comment from a rescuer from Rocky Mountain Rescue. This person said "most of our rescues are not about saving lives, but in this case we did save a life" I am eternally grateful to Karla for keeping her cool and responding as quickly as she did on my behalf. Clearly, she played an important role in my rescue and my being alive.

When we began our evening we entered into our conversation with trepidation, cried during it and hugged at the end. After toasting with fine French champagne, we both felt a thousand pounds lighter and knew we had overcome a big hurdle. We left the door open for further discussion. I know I got the information I needed and recognize that it is still up in the air as to whether we will ever climb together again. Regardless, my journey with Karla is not over; it just may be an different kind of landscape-perhaps in the realm of the intangible. We both are spiritual seekers and seem to be recognizing at the same time the value of going inward.

As I reflect further on what I learned from Karla, I am still struck by how incredibly fortunate I am to be alive. Since my life was spared what weighs on me the most is WHAT AM I HERE TO DO? Am I strong enough as a person to be that?

A dear old friend sent me this poem on my birthday. It's one of my favorites.

The History of a Tough Motherfucker

he came to the door one night wet thin beaten and
terrorized
a white cross-eyed tailles cat
I took him in and fed him and he stayed
grew to trust me until a friend drove up the driveway
and ran him over
I took what was left to a vet who said, "not much
chance. . . give him these pills.. his backbone
is crushed, but it was crushed before and somehow
mended, if he lives he'll never walk, look at
these x-rays, he's been shot, look here, the pellets
are still there. . .also, he once had a tail, somebody
cut it off. . ."

I took the cat back, it was a hot summer, one of the
hottest in decades, I put him on the bathroom
floor, gave him water and pills, he wouldn't eat, he
wouldn't touch the water, I dipped my finger into it
and wet his mouth and I talked to him, I didn't go any-
where, I put in a lot of bathroom time and talked to
him and gently touched him and he looked back at
me with those pale blue crossed eyes and as the days went
by he made his first move
dragging himself forward by his front legs
(the rear ones wouldn't work)
he made it to the litter box
crawled over and in
it was like the trumpet of possible victory
blowing in that bathroom and into the city, I
related to that cat--I'd had it bad, not that
bad but bad enough. . .

one morning he got up, stood up, fell back down and
just looked at me.

"you can make it," I said to him.

he kept trying, getting up and falling down, finally
he walked a few steps, like he was a drunk, the
rear legs just didn't want to do it and he fell again, rested, then got up.

you know the rest: now he is better than ever, cross-eyed,
almost toothless, but the grace is back, and that look in
his eyes never left. . .

and now sometimes I'm interviewed, they want to hear about
life and literature and I get drunk and hold up my cross-eyed,
shot, runover de-tailed cat and I say, "look, look at this!"

but they don't understand, they say something like, "you
say you've been influenced by Celine?"

"no," I hold the cat up, "by what happens, by
things like this, by this, by this!"

I shake the cat, hold him up in
the smoky and drunken light, he's relaxed he knows. . .

it's then that the interviews end
although I am proud sometimes when I see the pictures
later and there I am and there is the cat and we are photo-
graphed together.

he too knows it's bullshit but somehow it all helps.

by: Charles Bukowski

Week Ten-Highs and Lows

The highlight of the week was Doctor Wong releasing me from my cervical collar. I was so excited to be free of it that I went 24 hours without it. I'd been in a hard collar since the day I fell. I even wore a water proof one in the shower. Needless to say, my first day without the collar left me incredibly sore. It turns out I still need to wear the collar a few hours during the day and when I sleep.

I know from my work that the head plays an important part in body alignment. The weight of it alone can bring the hips to the surface to create a balanced body position in water. What I did not know was how many muscles assist in holding up the head. All week I have been very tired. Even though I fractured the transverse process of C-6, the strengthening exercises I've started with are for C-1 and C-2. 50% of neck mobility comes from there. To do these exercises properly requires that I watch myself in the mirror. My PT cautioned me to not overdo otherwise I could end up with headaches and other issues.

I thought that once I got the collar off; I would be able to kinda of swim. I knew my left arm would not be able to reach forward or even clear the water. When I went to the Louisville Recreation center, I discovered that many body parts are not in working order and all I can do right now is swim like a young child that only knows how to bob up and down. Single arm freestyle and backstroke failed. Breast stroke pull only while standing to breathe passed. Drills were too challenging. My eight minute swim workout was a humble start. I was devastated to be so far removed from a sport I love dearly. I had no idea that my starting point would be this. I've always turned to the pool for support during hard times. When my parents got divorced that's where I went every day not to train but to heal. If I feel disconnected from my spirit that is where I go. If I've forgotten how to be playful, I do handstands and somersaults in the pool. The lesson seems to be about finding new ways of coping and a new relationship to water.
Once the sadness and disappointment passed, I remembered other times when I had a daunting goal in front of me. The two times that came to mind were running 40 miles for the first time, knowing I would be doing so on a weekly basis for years and training for my first Ironman triathlon. The difference now is I am going down this path alone. There is no coach or teammate to encourage me. I have to figure out how to make my body swim again. I know I can do this. It's just incredibly humbling. I suspect this experience will make me a better swimming instructor and that's something worth working hard for.
The final note on the kitchen is it's functional and BEAUTIFUL. I am amazed by what Matt accomplished in two weeks. He only has a few final touches before his project is complete: under cabinet lighting, lighting above the sink, tile behind the stove and knobs for the cabinets. The outcome is a space that speaks of warmth, color, natural lighting, natural materials and love. I am planning to spend a lot of time cooking in an effort to eat well and keep our grocery bills down. It already is an immense pleasure to have such a beautiful environment to work in. Fortunately, the remodel only brought us closer together rather than create a strain on our relationship.
When I step back and remember how it was to be in the hospital, I've truly come a long way and so has our home!

Week Nine-Finding Energy to Give

There is nothing like taking care of someone else to distract oneself from worry and pain.
I've had the pleasure all week of helping Matt in small ways as he put in long hours laying tile for the counters and floor. Tiling took a toll on his hands and knees. Being able to wrap his cracked and bleeding thumbs in band aids, prepare his lunches, cook our dinners on the hot plate and wash our dishes in the bathroom sink gave me great joy. Finally, I had the energy to care for him again. I knew when I could give him a neck and back rub that my hands and left arm are getting stronger. It is comforting to know my ability to function on a basic level is returning.

As of late, I've spent many hours contemplating the notion of service. I continue to ask myself, "Who am I here to serve?" In reading mini-autobiographies about the lives of Martin Luther King, Mahatma Gandhi, Mother Teresa and Desmond Tutu, I came across several quotes that resonant with my current need to know who I am and what I am here to really do with my life.

"Power is the ability to achieve purpose. It is the strength required to bring about social, political and economic change. Justice at its best is power correcting everything that stands against love."-Martin Luther King

"Joy is love- a joyful heart is the normal result of a heart burning with love, for she gives most who gives with joy." -Mother Teresa

"The more efficient a force is, the more silent and the more subtle it is. Love is the subtlest force in the world. The law of love governs the world. Life persists in the face of death. The universe continues in spite of destruction going on. Truth triumphs over untruth. Love conquers hate."-Mahatma Gandhi

"Many people ask me what I have learned from all of the experiences in my life, and I say unhesitatingly: People are wonderful. It is true. People really are wonderful." -Desmond Tutu

In addition, I picked this Sufi quote as my theme and focus for the 2011-

"To be a Sufi, is to give up all worries and there is no worse worry than yourself. When you are occupied with self you are separated from God. The way to God is but one step: the step out of yourself." -Abu Sa'id ibn Abi-l-Khayn