Training Log Archive: Swampfox

On another snowy, wintry April day, I am "attending" the Berkshire Hathaway annual meeting for the first time, from the convenience of home, thanks to live streaming by Yahoo! Finance (also for the first time.) A fun way to spend the day.

C • Berkshire Hathaway 1

As noted, another snowy day with light snow falling continuously from start to finish. Little accumulation in town except where new snow was falling on old, but I can imagine up top this week has meant some significant increase in the snow pack. Ironic to think that has April started out with this weather, most likely I would not have been out on my bike on the 7th...I would have been skiing instead!

Today was the day I got "back in the saddle" and I went downstairs for a massive 11 minute ride on the bike trainer. It was obvious from that that my breathing/lungs still have a long way to go before I am recovered. But you have to start somewhere, and today was that start. I also took a chilly walk through the neighborhood in the early evening with snow blowing in my face. One day winter will be no longer coming, but going!

I had an appointment with my orthopedic surgeon this morning. In contrast to Charlie's recent experience, I was seen within 10 minutes of my appointment time.

This was probably because my doctor does not yet qualify as an eminence grise, which, by the way, roughly translates as "big pig" if I still remember any Swedish at all (doubtful.) Some learned O' historians may recall that back in the early years when Stora Tuna was just getting going and it became time to choose a club name, the three leading choices were 1) eminence grise (the big pig), 2) in English The Pretty Big Pig, and, of course, the winning name 3) Stora Tuna (roughly translates as "big Tuna Fish".) Frankly, I bet many members of Stora Tuna today regret the club founders didn't go with "The Pretty Big Pig" instead, which is a pretty insurmountable name when you think about it the right way. So much for Swedish lessons for today. ; )

Dan--the orthopod--removed my bandage, which of course hurt more than the operation itself. But it didn't hurt much. He looked at my shoulder and declared everything looked beautiful. He actually wanted to call the Boomerang and have them send over a photographer to document the results but I pointed out (correctly) that readers of the Boomerang would much rather see photos of pretty cowgirls than hideous images of a swampfox shoulder.

So now I am supposed to gradually increase the use of my shoulder and arm, but not overdo it. I can begin riding on my bike trainer right now, and, should winter ever go away again, I will be adding in some much longer and more vigorous walking in an effort to save at least some small measure of whatever fitness I had before "la crash".

But for the time being, it's another day of winter outside, a reprise of yesterday.

C • You sound better 3

Took a quick power nap, and had a recurring dream, or, more accurately, dream fragments of a dream I've been having in the past week and a half. I'm in the OR and being worked on, and I can hear everything that is going on, but can't see or feel anything. Probably a pretty typical dream for the circumstance.

Now three weeks in from that freaky crash on the bike path. As I am progressing, the weather seems bent of regressing--not 5 seconds of sun today, and snows off and on all day long. I just came in from a quick walk of a couple of blocks, and looking north across the prairie at the edge of town it was a total winter landscape, with swirls of fine pellet snows accompanying me as I walked.

I didn't take any pain killers today and was fine without them--just minor pain around the surgical site and nothing remotely close to intolerable.

Instead, I listened to "Out of Time" by REM and other good sounds.

C • REM 2

My first full day as Titanium Man/swampfox. Frankly, it felt about the same as before becoming bionic, though I have noticed the various birds of carrion (buzzards, crows, ravens) are no longer eyeing me in the same way they once did. They probably know better than to mess with Titanium swampfox and will now go on to look for easier repasts.

Pain from the surgery was not at all bad today. I took several hydrocodones during the day and early evening, but I do not plan to take anymore unless I have some pretty bad pain. It's hard for me to look at these little white pills and not see them as white death--the numbers of people getting into very serious trouble with opioids is beyond alarming, and many people are doing so entirely innocently--they're prescribed pain medications just like me, and, bang--they're in trouble without even knowing it at first. Besides what you read about in the news, I know several friends of friends who have gotten into bad trouble with them.

At the end of the day the sun came out, and I took a quick walk just after sunset. My breathing felt entirely normal, the best it's felt since I started experiencing shortness of breath now nearly two weeks ago. The thought passed through my mind that except for the fact I had a massive bandage on my shoulder, it felt like I could be jogging.

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