Memoir-able (Recovery Part 4)

Howdy blog,

Well there's a couple exciting bits of news I wanted to share.

The first pertains to the recovery of my shoulder. I am now 10 weeks post-op. When I saw the doctor yesterday he continued to be impressed and amazed at how much range my shoulder has. He told me (again) how tight it used to be and that I have the range of motion that I do is just astonishing. It's actually better than the left shoulder now in some regards. There's increased pain in the right shoulder since I've started doing outpatient physical therapy, but that is normal for an operation and should subside soon as long as I make sure to rest it. I have to keep reminding myself of Zen #3: The faster you hurry, the slower you go. You'd think I would have that one deeply ingrained in my recovery process after so many surgeries, but I'm impatient and this surgery has been unlike the others in both its recovery and my abilities post-surgery. It'll be about a year before the right shoulder is fully healed if things continue on the way they have been, but progress will be semi-continuous throughout so it's a promising bit of news.

The other thing discussed during my doctor's visit was the left shoulder. As some of you may or may not know, the left shoulder was nearly identically damaged to the right one, and it was only through the arbitrary filter of how much each one hurt that the right shoulder was chosen as the first to be replaced. The left shoulder is now beginning to ache more, so after I see my doctor in two months, I will likely be having another surgery shortly afterwards. I'm more excited about this than I am any other emotion. With any luck, it will be my last surgery for a while (although I said that last year after my left knee replacement so...I'm cautiously optimistic) and then I can start focusing more on everything that comes after. It'll be nice not to have to think about when I'll be cutting out my bone and replacing it next, maybe I can better focus on writing and other life events after that's dealt with.

Speaking of writing, we move onto my second (I'm including the last two paragraphs as one big semi-related news item) bit of news. I've been working on a memoir detailing my life (briefly described at the end of The Cancer and the Cure) and specifically all the crap with cancer and dealing with the side effects of treatment after the fact. For 16 months I've been doing on and off work with Nick regarding our memoirs, and after all that time...I have finished the rough draft! It's a huge deal for me, because this isn't the first intonation of this book. I tried writing it half a dozen times before and each time wound up abusing drugs or having a mental breakdown from the stress of recalling all of the traumatic experiences in my life. It took an enormous amount of mental and emotional energy to get it out there, and it wore me out to the point of exhaustion, but I finally got through the rough draft and proudly did so in one piece! (Not including all the extra pieces put into me by surgeons) I've been on a short break as school starts, but then Nick and I are going to be going into the editing process and making the books even better.

To celebrate the finishing of the rough draft, here's a small section conscripted from my book Life Has No Title. Until next time readers and blog.

Normally I encountered runners along the path, but today it was just myself and the little white dog. I looked at him, he pointedly ignored me as he usually did, and got an idea. Maybe there could be a runner. Me. I thought back to Nick, who had returned early in the summer and had been spending some time with me. There was a runner, someone who pushed his limits to insane measures and even further than that. If he could run a hundred mile race, why couldn’t I go on a short jog? He once drew inspiration from me as he made his way 3,000 miles, and now I could draw inspiration from him as I ran…a lot less than that.

“Come on Tucker! Giddy-up!” I put one foot in front of the other, picking up speed slowly but surely. The dog started to trot alongside me as I increased my pace but suddenly stopped and nearly dragged me off my feet after just a few seconds. “Okay, fine. We’ll take it slow you little prick.” I started again, making sure to stick to a light jogging pace. Every slap of my foot against the uneven surface sent a strange jarring sensation up my leg. It felt…good. I kept it up, sometimes going a bit quicker, but would soon be dragged back by a resistant dog. After about ninety seconds I gave up trying to pull the little ass along with me and settled back down to a walking pace. “Well that was fun,” I said to myself. Tucker sniffed at a bush.

I wasn’t content with such a paltry result though. During that jog I felt as though I had untapped energy that I could have unleashed had I not had a leashed mutt at my side. I would have to try again.

That’s exactly what I did too. My mom and I were walking the dog this time, so I didn’t have to hold the leash. As we walked, I told her about my jogging experience a few days before and she seemed impressed. “I think I could do better though,” I said, channeling my inner Nick. “Watch this.”

If she protested, I didn’t hear her, because I was off without another word. Uncertain of how fast to go to start with, and not even sure if I remembered how to run properly after five years, I could hear Nick whispering in my ear. “Open it up Bundy!” I’m pretty sure he’s never said that to me in my life, but that’s what I did. I sped away at full-blast and nearly lost my footing in the surprise at how quickly I was going. For a few precarious steps, I was running to avoid faceplanting, but I caught up with myself and sprinted away. I could feel the years melting away as everything around me became irrelevant. None of the pain to remind me of surgery after surgery, none of the aches to remind me of the atrophied muscles and hospital stays. None of the mental anguish harassing me those last couple months as I further slipped into becoming an anxious wreck. It was just me and the path. Everything else was in another world.

The wind rushed by, my legs pounding into hard earth, and on and on I ran, laughing silently and grinning ear to ear by the time I came to a halt as my burning legs asked politely to quit. Besides, I was almost out of bridle path and I would have to make the trek back to my mom. I honestly felt as though I could keep going if I wanted to, the rush was exquisite! I felt, for the first time in years, like a normal human being. It was such an alien feeling I wasn’t sure what to do with it. At least now I knew that my body wasn’t totally trashed, and I knew Nick would be pretty pleased when I told him about this the next time I saw him.

Your one and a half armed overlord,
Andrew

Top Ten Zen #3: The Slower You Go

Howdy blog,

Well, time for part three! Shall we get on it then? Good answer.

Top Ten Zen

Andrew and Nick have compiled a list of Zen-like philosophies comprised firstly of a quote, an interpretation of said quote, and finally a story to drive their point home. This list can aid you in doing anything from completing a 100-mile race to surviving cancer, or obtaining any goal you set your mind to. 

Here are our previous posts for those who missed them:

1. The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step
2. Body follows mind

The tortoise ascends

"The faster you hurry, the slower you go."

The Survivor’s Take: Patience is one of the most important factors when it comes to recovery. Pushing yourself too hard can make things worse, and what at first appears to be a big step forward might end up actually being several steps back.

The Runner’s Take: In endurance sports, it’s easy to get caught up in the competition and let things like nutrition and form fall to the wayside. Don’t let them. Even if it means sacrificing speed and position early on, staying relaxed and fueled leaves you in control of your race.

Survivor’s Tales: With my most recent surgery, a total replacement of my right shoulder, I quickly found myself impatient with the healing process. Compared with all the lower joint replacements, my recovery seemed to be going smoother and I felt better than I remember with the other surgeries. Within two weeks I was pushing myself to my limit, and admittedly a little beyond, with my exercises. In addition to that, I would sometimes take my arm out of its sling for extended periods of time, despite the doctor telling me to keep it in for at least six weeks. It didn’t take long for sharp pains to start cropping up in my shoulder. As a result of all this overreaching, I had hurt myself and was unable to do as much PT as I should have, causing my progress to regress. It took almost a full week for the pains to calm down enough to where I could start exercising properly again. Had I simply stuck to my recovery plan, I might have gotten to the point I am now even faster (click here to see my progress so far), but I’ve certainly learned my lesson: when it comes to recovery, it pays to stick to the plan instead of brushing it aside at the first glimmer of your strength returning. It may feel like you can do so much more, but very often it’s just a brief phase and soon you find yourself paying for your arrogance with sharp aches if you’re lucky, and serious damage if you aren’t.

Mountain Tales: It was the second to last climb of Ronda del Cims. 3,000 feet in just over two miles at an average grade of 45%, far steeper and more technical than any single climb at the Barkley marathons. I came into the aid station at the base of the climb right alongside Carles, a local Andorran runner who was holding 3rd place. He blew through the station and started hammering up the long climb. I glanced at my watch and realized it had been over an hour since I’d eaten anything. I hobbled slowly behind Carles as he pulled further away. I stuffed Gu after Gu down my throat and ate as many dry crackers as I could. Food was an awful chore, but a necessary evil. About halfway through, Carles was now 200 feet higher than me, but I knew he’d not eaten a thing. He’d burn out shortly. I swigged down more Carbo Pro and whipped out my hiking poles asking myself, “What can I relax?” I let go of my tense shoulders, let go of the tight tension in my arms and felt my upper body sink.  It’s terrifying what unconsciously tightens up while running. About three quarters of the way up the climb, I finally caught Carles.  He was breathing hard and his steps were labored on the steep ascent. The short seconds I’d taken to fuel my body were now paying off. I passed Carles and kept my pace steady all the way to the top of the climb. The faster you hurry (aka skip things like nutrition and proper form) the slower you’ll go. Endurance sports are the tortoise’s race, not the hare’s. Take care of yourself and you’ll be rewarded!

A mildly exaggerated recreation of how I hurt myself

Of course, just because we are sharing our own extreme examples does not mean that these philosophies are all strictly for extreme situations. We share these because they can be used by anyone in the proper situations and we invite you, dear reader, to take these helpful tips into the world to use as you see fit. Feel free to hoard them or share them with others around you. It is both of our hope that these do some good somewhere, and so we wish you luck in your journey of a thousand Zen-filled steps.

Andrew Bundy

Nick Hollon