Training Log Archive: Swampfox

The day actually began the night before. A little after 10 pm, I was in the shower. As part of the pre-surgery preparations, I had 3 tubes of anti-bacterial soap wash that I was supposed to use on the shoulder. Two were supposed to be used the night before, and the other the morning of surgery. The purpose was to reduce chances of surgical infections.

I had just finished washing with the first one when the power went out. Most times when the power goes out, it kicks back in within a few seconds. If it doesn't come back on right away, then it's a more serious outage, with no way to predict how long it will be out.

After a few seconds passed without the power coming back on, I turned off the water and slowly started the process of getting dried and dressed--all in complete darkness. I moved very deliberately because under the circumstances another fall could be really bad.

After dressing, I located a small flash light I keep for emergencies, and used that to find a head lamp. The batteries in the head lamp were weak, so I replaced those, and was then set for light.

No power also means no heat, so I snuggled in some blankets on the sofa and tried to nap while waiting for the power to come back on. At about 5 am, the power did return. That was good news; I wasn't relishing trying to shower again and getting dry in a cooling house (very winter outside, with big howling winds and several inches of new snow during the night).

I napped a little while longer and then got up, showered again with the anti-bacterial soap, got dressed for the day, put a few things in my backpack, and took a quick look at the news to see what was going on in the markets in pre-opening trading.

And, because, there are no guarantees when you head into surgery, the last thing I did was to quickly draft up a last will and testament. I think Kris and my mom were surprised when I asked them to witness my signature and to add their signatures as well.

Then we head over to the hospital in the snow and slush. No "winter is coming" here--it *was* winter outside!

At the hospital I was quickly admitted and led back to surgery where I was shown into a small room. There I changed into a surgical smock and some no-slip socks, and several nurses got busy getting me ready. One of the nurses was a student from UW There was paperwork, questions, some pills to take, and an IV to go in. When it time for the IV, the student nurse started stepping forward, and I asked who was going to do the honors. When I was told it was going to be the student nurse, I explained what I had gone through in the ER a week earlier, and asked for the most experienced nurse to put in the IV, and told the student nurse "I'm sorry, and I know you have to learn on someone, but it's not going to be me, today." The IV went in easily and was all but painless. The ER could take some lessons.

Kris and mom were allowed into the pre-surgery room at that point, and soon Dr. Levine--Dan, my orthopedic surgeon--came in to say hello, mark up my shoulder, and answer any questions I had. I was glad to see him and I was happy with his quick visit. We did uncover one glitch: I thought I had been instructed to take my last Lovenox shot at 9 am the morning before, while it turned out the intent had been for the last shot to be the 9 pm shot. In the end Dan said it was not a big deal, and that if anything it just meant I would bleed less during surgery.

Then the anesthesiologist came in and we went over some stuff. I asked him about the risks involved with surgery today with the pulmonary embolisms and my other lung problems, and he didn't beat around the bush, saying that there was no question that there was some additional risk but that he felt on balance going ahead with surgery now was the better choice. In fact he said that the circumstances were rare enough that it would make for a pretty good study. I was surprised at that; I had assumed that since I had had the clotting problems from the trauma of the fall, and the subsequent migration of pieces of the clots, that it must be a fairly typical thing in bike crashes, car wrecks, etc. But, at least according to him, no. I'm not sure it's a great way to be special, though!

Kris and my mom left, and then I was being wheeled into surgery. I remember going into the room and seeing various people scurrying around, but that is that last I remember, and my next memory was being back in my little surgical room. My nurse asked me how I felt, and had me do a few simple tests (stand up, sit down, clench fists, move fingers--stuff like that.) Then she asked me if I would like something to drink and eat, then explaining before I was discharged they *wanted* to have me eat and drink, so I had some little pudding cups and a 7-Up as my first food and liquids since midnight.

They also needed to have me pee before they would discharge me, saying that was the last piece to wake back up after anesthesia, or words to that effect. That was no problem. Later, I have come to believe I must have had a catheter put in before surgery and taken back out afterwards, and before I woke back up, but no one mentioned a catheter, so I just infer it from the way my urethra feels.

I also had a tube inserted down my throat (into a lung, I think) and was warned that my throat would likely be sore from that, which it was. For that reason, I didn't feel much like talking the rest of the day, except at very low levels.

It turned out the surgical site itself--the shoulder--was pretty sore after surgery. Not exactly a surprise, but I was surprised that the pain medication (fentanyl) they gave me during recovery didn't seem to effect the pain level at all. It wasn't intolerable or even close, but it was pretty strong and steady, maybe 6-7 on a scale of 10.

Dan came back in to see me, and by then Kris and mom had rejoined me, and he said the surgery had gone very well and that he was pleased (you can wonder what they say when it goes horribly--ha!)

Not too much longer after that I was discharge, and we drove back home through winter.

For the first few hours at home I was in some amount of pain, and occasionally wondered if maybe it wouldn't have been a good idea to have stayed in the hospital for a day--mostly not because the pain was *so* bad, but having no way to know it might not get worse. I had a prescription for hydrocodone, but once again it really didn't seem to to do much when I took a pill.

Kris made some soup and salad, and I had a little bit of that for dinner with he and mom, and, about halfway through the meal, it suddenly struck me that my shoulder didn't hurt anymore. The pain was only a tiny fraction of what it had been! That was a pretty nice thing, and I thoroughly enjoyed the rest of dinner. And really the should never hurt much again after that. It's funny how the pain was steady, steady, steady, and then--poof!--gone. Certainly nothing to complain about.

Kris and I finished off the evening by enjoying the season premier of Game of Thrones, and were only disappointed that the show ended so soon.

I think Kris documented my look and appearance post-surgery, but I don't know if she has posted pictures anywhere. If not, probably just as well, since of course mere shoulder surgery would not be near enough to make me model worthy. And I presume photos also would not reveal the full magnitude of my new bandage, which is roughly the size of Iceland.

C • Success! 12

I have had a great day, and the day is not even done yet. First, I turned off my oxygen yesterday at breakfast, and haven't used it since, and feel fine. Second, the sun has been out most of the day, and I made time to get out for a pretty decent walk out through the neighborhood (and am getting ready to go out and walk some more.) Third, I haven't coughed once today. And, fourth, all the various entities--anesthesiologist, orthopedic surgeon, family practitioner--have been talking to each other today, and I am scheduled for surgery tomorrow morning. Albeit with a qualifier: the anesthesiologist will meet with me first and assess my condition in the flesh, and give the final thumbs up or down. Hopefully it will be thumbs up because, you know, traditionally thumbs down means being fed to the mountain lions, which would be a major bummer.

Fittingly, tomorrow the weather is going to change and I believe a rain/snow mix is being called for, which, around here, in late April, definitely means snow. So what! I got skis!

I'm looking forward to getting this done, especially as it will mean the 9 o-clock shot I gave myself this morning will be my last. Words can not describe how happy I will be to be done with that.

C • Surgery 15

I woke up early (for me, for the recent time) today at about 6:40, and stayed in bed as long as I could stand it, and got up finally just before 7.

It's not really restful staying in the bed in the morning longer the way it would normally be--when sometimes it's nice to just snooze and lounge--because every day since the crash I've woken up with a headache. I assume that's related to the concussion. It's never been bad, and the sooner I get up and get going, the better.

At the other end of the day, just about every day I've gotten chills. Again, not bad, not to the point where I've been shivering uncontrollably, and there it seems I've been running light fevers and have been a little on the warm side while sleeping. The doctors said this is not abnormal and is also somehow linked to how the body can respond to trauma. What it does mean are night sweats, so that most mornings I wake up in a t-shirt that ranges from damp to almost wet.

It's very gray out today with light snow in the air, and no promise of the sun, so after breakfast I decided to make a fire in the woodstove for the first time since crashing. Up to now, the thought of getting all the wood in and getting it set to go has been too tiring to think of. So, another step forward.

That went well enough, though I kept on catching on fire because of my oxygen. I felt like the strawman! But I quickly learned how to roll on the ground to extinguish the bigger flareups, and I could just spit on the smaller fires and put them out that way. What's the point of being a cowboy if you can't spit with a purpose?

Of course I'm joking--I didn't set myself on fire! I turned off the oxygen as I was making breakfast and have been doing everything since then on my own breathing.

misc:

1) People, and especially the medical people, have assumed my shoulder must be painful. In fact, it's *never* been painful, not at all. Remember, when I crashed, I biked myself home with no idea I had broken my clavicle. And it's never hurt since then. Occasionally I can feel a tiny bit of pressure from the raised half of the broken bone, but that's it. All the shoulder has really meant is that I can only lift my arm so high, and then it stops.

2) By far and away the biggest pain has been the broken ribs. Now, when I breathe normally, I no longer feel them much, but the deeper I breath, the more they're there. Coughing is more painful, and I think a sneeze would be bad (so far, I've suppressed the coupld of times a sneeze was coming on, thankfully!)

3) The next biggest pain only lasted a few days, and that was my left hip flexor(s). It didn't hurt when I wasn't moving, and it never kept me from walking, but for those few days my left leg was nearly useless and really limited my mobility. The biggest problem was it made it very difficult to get up from a lying down position, since I only had two levers to work with, and both of them on the same side. Now it's pretty easy, since I have my leg back, and also since now my ribs are enough better than I can do some rolling to get up and use my legs as a counter-weight.

4) The light, prolonged coughing I've experienced--more later in the day and evening than the first part of the day--has been pretty unfun and at times miserable. But, by accident 2 nights ago, I discovered if I did enough exercise to get my breath rate up, that makes the coughing go away. Why, I have no idea. So happy to have hit upon that, however!

5) And the last, and perhaps most surprising pain, has been my upper back. It just gets tired very easily, and at some point I simply have to stop whatever I'm doing and go sit on my sofa where I can lean my back into some support and give those muscles a break. I suppose they are getting worn out from trying to overcompensate from the various injured parts.

6) Some people know, but most would have no reason to know, that I am left handed. Luckily I can use my hand okay--my arm just gets tired quickly--so at least I can write and type if I have to. But otherwise, a lot of things I used to do left handed, I now have to do right handed. Some things aren't much harder, some are pretty easy to learn (like using a fork or spoon) it turns out, and a few things are much harder. It's kind of neat to go through the experience.

7) I have figured out that if I put the guitar strap on my right shoulder a la Freddy King and others, I can in fact fret my guitar and play a little. SO that's a day brightener, too. Most people would have no idea how happy it makes me to be able to play, even if I'm not very good. : )

8) I'm looking forward to having the surgery said and done. I really hope we can get done on Tuesday.

C • Orienteering life 2

C • Commentary 1

I have been musing about orienteering this evening. More specifically, my orienteering.

Earlier in the day, I pulled out the Day 2 map from the US Champs last fall again, and looked at the #3 leg which went so bad for me. It still makes me shake my head. When I look at the area where I lost touch with what was going on, it *still* doesn't click into proper place, and I can't explain it. If BAOC ever re-maps that area, I'm going to have to submit a request that that little specific area be labeled "The Mikell Zone", a place where bad things can happen--ha! I have no idea why I didn't just attack the leg by running straight to the distant jeep trail, then running left to the big clearing that leads down the hill almost to the control itself. It would have been so simple. And I thought the route I chose was going to make it even simpler. Funny stuff.

There are people out there who will tell you they have lived their life with no regrets, but I wonder. Is that even possible?

When I think back over my orienteering career (which always seemed too grandiose a word to me, but I can't think of a better one, maybe orienteering life?), it's been fun. I've been fortunate to at least have had at least several really good races. Some of them a few people know about, but some of the better ones almost nobody but me today would remember. It helps to have stayed in the game for a long stretch of time. In the bigger scheme of things though, of course it hardly matters. Wasn't it William Hawkins who observed in his inimitable dry style that orienteering is nothing more than a silly map game, or words to that effect?

Still, sometimes I wonder: how much better could I have been? If I knew then what I know now, I should have been able to train some degree of more effectively. Enough to have been a few per cent better? It wouldn't have been enough to put me on a podium or anywhere close, but really it was always more about the effort anyway. The harder and more effectively I trained, the better I felt about it, it was more satisfying. And the results were just whatever they were. Regrets....no regrets.

In 1998 I was dating a girl I had met that year. We had gone over one night to another couple's house, and a third couple was there, too. I didn't know the other couples; they were friends of hers.

She's the one girl that I'm positive would have said yes if I had asked her to marry me. It would have meant a completely conventional life. A house in a big city, kids, a dog--all the usual things. It would have been easy, but it wasn't what I wanted. It just wasn't enough. I never regretted that, though she was very nice, probably better than I deserved anyway.

It was New Year's Eve, and the last song we played before midnight and before leaving was "1999". It's hard to believe that was 18 years ago. That end to that evening popped to mind when I heard Prince had died. At least to this outside observer, he sure looked like someone who lived life fully with no regrets.

C • Silly map game 2

C • the one girl 1

Weighed in this morning at 139.6 lbs, so at least my weight is back to a more acceptable level. Though I imagine a portion of the weight I've dropped in the past 2 weeks likely reflects some amount of muscle loss. Given the broken shoulder, I don't know that there's anything to do about that for now, and I would anticipate losing a fair amount more of leg and arm strength before all is said and done. I will be spindle man Though I do have enough--good thing!!!--fat around my waist for the Lovenox shots to fit into.

Losing weight--and keeping to the weight I want--has never been the tough thing for me that it seems to be for so many other people. I never drank much alcohol (and gave it up this year), and that just leaves sweets and soft drinks. I step on a scale each day--you have to have that feedback/information--cut back on or eliminate the extra sugar, and the weight melts away quickly. For me it's purely a question of discipline. Obviously it helps that I (Normally) exercise in large amounts. It seems like many/most people commonly frame weight loss in terms of things they have to give up--sacrifices they have to make. For me, it's the opposite. Fitness is hugely important to me and is one of my top several priorities. If I choose to do things which mean I can't get in the exercise I want to do, then the sacrifice involved is my fitness--and that is a sacrifice I am generally not willing to make..

Today was a solid improvement over any previous day since last weekend. I went nearly all day without oxygen, and it's nice not to have to be tethered to the clear coil of death (the oxygen tubing has a genuine talent for reaching out and trying to wrap around your feet when you least expect it.) Though in truth the oxygen isn't that big a deal nor much of a hassle. It's just nice to see I can function all day long without it, as that is another step potentially towards freedom.

As a capper, I set a new PR with the spirometer device.

Just a side note: for anyone who has written me personally and directly to my email address and haven't heard back from me (yet), I do want to say thank you so much for thinking of me and taking the time to write. I'm trying to get caught up on a whole bunch of stuff while at the same time keeping abreast of the new stuff coming in each day so as to not fall further behind.

And while I can write and type, my left hand/arm get tired pretty quickly, so that's a limitation.

I saw my orthopedic surgeon (Dan) today. Dan took a look at me, and especially my arm (the presumed source of the clots that migrated to my lung and observed no swelling, good color, and obvious good return flow (of blood). He said the soon we can get you in, and do so safely, the better. The more time goes by, the more scar tissue around the broken clavicle will build up, and bone will begin forming at the ends of the break--which would have to be chiseled away when re-setting the bone.

So, as a result of that, we are aiming for surgery for Tuesday morning, the particular time based on the timing of my blood thinner shots, so probably 9 o-clock sharp, and all this based on getting a chest xray Monday morning that the anesthesiologist fells good about.

As long as it is going to be safe to go forward, I am psyched to get this done and out of the way--it will mean I can begin my real recovery from the bike crash.

C • Sounds like good news 2

Holy crap, Prince has just died???? How is that even possible? He was almost my same age, just a little over a month younger. That's distressing, to say the least. He was one of my all time favorites. It is so sad to hear.

C • Prince 2

I slept more or uneventfully, waking up once, struggling a bit when coughing started up again, and then gradually quietening down again and getting back to sleep. Very odd that somehow sleeping seems to suppress the coughing, and I make it as something to be very thankful for.

The big task for the day was getting mom to give me the morning shot under Kris's supervision. I moved over to the sofa a little early, and while they started to put down what they were doing and getting ready for fun(!), I sat there and thought."Eventually most people just decide to get on with it", was what Jeremy the first day's nurse had said goodbye with. The more I thought about it, the more I started thinking "fuck, after all I've been through the past two weeks, I still can't manage to give myself a shot?" I really don't curse much at all, even inside, but that's what I thought.

When Kris and mom walked over and mom started to move into position to do her thing, I stopped her, held out my hand for the shot, and told Kris I was going to try.

It may not have earned high marks for style, quality, and degree of difficulty, , and in fact it may have been one of the world's injections ever (won't get hired by the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation to go to the 3rd world to administer injections, that's for sure), but the needle went in and so did the Lovenox. Amazing. Before the bike crash if you had suggested it would ever come to this, I would have laughed. There would have been zero chance. (Each injection since then has gotten easier for me.)

Kris left for Denver in the mid-afternoon, and the rest of the day was mostly okay, and nothing really bad on the coughing front, just annoying trying to talk to anyone in the afternoon.

Quite a nice spring day, almost some kind of cruelty to have to sit at home and not be roaming around in the great Laramie outdoors. But so it goes, and there will be something to look forward to in the end.

C • but the needle went in and ... 1

The day went much like yesterday, physically. Some coughing episodes, a lot of time where it was hard to talk smoothly, and, in between, I felt a little better overall. I set a new PR on the spirometer. The weather was finally improving nicely following the big spring snow storm, and it was beautiful outdoors. I didn't do much outside, but I did wander around in my yard and looked at bulbs and other plants sprouting up. I spent several hours off all oxygen, and while my O2 saturation was too low to be satisfactory, it wasn't so bad either--about 85-88%, if I was sitting in place and not active.

My mom was flying out and arrived by shuttle in Laramie a little after 6. It was great to see her.

The plan was that Kris would go home on Thursday and mom would stay to help however she could, for some indeterminate period of time. The main critical thing for the time being was to give me my shots. She would watch Kris tonight, which she did, and then in the morning she would give me the morning shot while Kris instructed her. Hopefully that would be enough.