t minus 12 days

"Some are destined to succeed, 

some are determined to succeed."

~ H.H. Swami Tejomayananda ~

There's no such word as CAN'T in the gym....

Thinking about pain, physical therapy, surgery recovery, pain... again - it's hard not to think about it when you feel it 24/7, screaming at you above everything else; stealing your concentration and attention away from something thought ought to be infinitely more interesting and therefore effortlessly hold your focus; but the screaming from your body just never takes a break.  So….. I have been reading about pain; pain tolerance; pain threshold; pain scales.  Trying to learn about pain, and realising that as a chronic pain sufferer, I probably know just about as much as researchers know; from a different perspective, perhaps, but the point is I did not find any groundbreaking, life-saving solution to any of my problems.  Even trying to figure out what I should be doing - at what point is it good to push my body, but still let it heal? - doesn't have a simple answer.  So if nobody can tell me, how do I figure that out?  And how do I figure that out?

http://www.pinterest.com/gmun22/once-a-gymnast/

Finding the limit is the problem now...

 I'm genuinely beginning to think gymnastics - especially from a young age -  makes your brain form differently.  This is suspected (supported by a few studies) regarding learning a musical instrument; and research into bilingualism shows language learning definitely affects neural development.  I suspect starting gymnastics at a young age is a bit like learning a language.  If you learn a language before the age of ~7 years, your brain learns it as a first language - neural connections are formed differently.  I learned the language of gymnastics well before the age of 7.  Despite the fact I haven't trained or competed for 14 years in gymnastics, or 10 years in trampolining, those things don't leave you….. No matter how much you try!

http://www.pinterest.com/gmun22/once-a-gymnast/
(Typo not mine!)

  

The language of gymnastics [abbreviated]:

"There's no such word as can't in the gym"

"If you think you can't, you won't"

"Always end on a good one"

And things like this make perfect sense:

http://www.pinterest.com/gmun22/once-a-gymnast/

*"you're in the air"
Typo not mine... again!

Because that is how you get results: 

My last British Trios Finals 2001
(before I broke another bone & had to quit)

But now…...

"There's no such word as can't in the gym"

To physio:

"Yes, you can push my arm as far as you want... did I tell you my gum is bleeding because I'm biting on it?  Just saying…"

"Yes, I can do this - I can still see in front of me, it's only black behind me, so I'm fine."

http://www.pinterest.com/gmun22/once-a-gymnast/

"If you think you can't, you won't"

To physio:

"Yes, this is ok....... should I be feeling sick though?"

"Yes, it's going - how sore should it get before I stop you? It's beginning to sparkle now…"

http://www.pinterest.com/gmun22/once-a-gymnast/

"Always end on a good one"

To physio:

[Eyes closed, sweat dripping off me, breathing increased, heart booming, room spinning]: "But I didn't do the full set... I'm not finished...*Will this actually do more damage...? No? OK. Finish then."

*(Um, yeah I confess to doing this one on Wednesday - yesterday.  It was 'only' two more reps... out of a total of 5.... for a muscle that hasn't really worked that way for 43 months. I slept in the car on the way home.)

[Ditto]: "But that last one was terrible..... I'll just do one more." [Collapse on floor]

http://www.pinterest.com/gmun22/once-a-gymnast/

So apparently I have 'syncope without loss of consciousness' - that means fainting without actually appearing to faint.  This adds to the confusion - have I fainted?  Or not?
THEN WHAT DO I DO??!!

Lesson:

Physios do not count any of those as "cans". (Sometimes they shout at you, actually.  Nicely.)  'Trying' when it is sparkling or black behind you or you are seeing black dots; you can taste vomit, or blood; you are dripping with sweat after lifting (holding, really) a ONE pound weight; you can only do it if you close your eyes……..  do not count as 'trying' either.  They are generally regarded as doing too much and produce orders like "Stop. Now." or "Lie down….. Lie down NOW." or shouted to their interns - "get me a chair!"  and "get me water!"

In the gym, bleeding gums, spinning heads and feeling sick may be the norm; recovering from an injury is not the same as gymnastics. (Mantra: repeat ad infinitum.) 


Second Lesson 
[doctor/ physio attempting to enter my head]:

"If you worked really hard at training one day, you would take a rest day the next day.  This is like that."

"It's like anything: work a day, rest a day, work a day, rest a day…."

"If you were sore after training one night, you would take the next night off, wouldn't you?"

Umm……. I'm really trying, and I know what you're saying here…….. but I don't understand………..

Yup.  I think gymnastics skews your perspective on life.  It means we learn young how to work hard, develop great time management skills*; we are trained to demand perfection from ourselves - on top of a natural instinct; to never give up (and in our heads, we still think our bodies have the capabilities it had when we were teenagers).  Getting injured (severely) is not a good idea.  Physios and doctors - you will probably hate any ex-gymnast patients you have! (Also because we also know exactly how we like our ankle/ wrist/ knee/ elbow wrapped; what tape we want to use, and exactly where we want it...)

*Yes Mum, I know this does not apply to me right now....... I have good reasons! And I really do try!

Just for fun.... things that are not really 'normal' (apparently):
(All from: http://www.pinterest.com/gmun22/)

I'd kind of forgotten about this, but it didn't strike me as
abnormal until I read this on Pinterest.  Last year!

As do gymnasts!

I didn't realise this was weird until the first time we did a group project
at uni and everyone was kind of staring...

It's incredibly difficult to resist this.  Still.

                                     

This is not normal? I still don't understand.... it's natural!

A little nostalgia:

Yeah, see below!

What a feeling........!
(Yes, that's me.)

 And too true:

However, I also think - a little bit of that stubborn determination built in may just feel like it's saving you sometimes.

http://www.pinterest.com/gmun22/

‘The greater danger for most of us is

not that our aim is too high and we miss it,

but that it is too low and we reach it.’

~ Michelangelo  ~

Butterfly dreams

This wasn't even planned.... today I put a tea bag into my favourite mug and it was like insta-blog:

I actually feel I could leave it at that - one picture worth a thousand words, but most people who know me will know I am more of a 'why use one word when ten will do' kind of person.

I first learned of the quote on the mug a few years ago, after my diagnosis of Lyme disease -  actually almost 6 years ago now.  Not long after that, my Dad's job took us from Florida to Pennsylvania where everyone knows what Lyme is, I found the best doctor in the world (I stand by that claim - in all possible ways)  and began my treatment.  The idea of a caterpillar thinking its life is over and then becoming a butterfly fit perfectly.  Perhaps things didn't exactly follow the expected path from there, but it's still an optimistic quote worth holding onto - something beautiful can come out of even the lowest points in life - but we have to work for them (just like the caterpillar builds its cocoon!).

Having dream on my teabag today seemed perfectly fitting.  It goes with the aspirations of finally becoming a butterfly (just to draw out the metaphor as much as I possibly can), but it reminds me that it's the most important thing to do.  Dreams, hope - it's what keeps people going.

I've had several doctors and therapists tell me that my shoulder will never be normal again. (Some more bluntly than others.)  I appreciate their honesty - they genuinely don't know, because they've never dealt with this combination before, so I would much rather they are honest than pretend they know all the answers.  (The ones who did that caused me far more harm, way back in the early stages.) Nobody knows how much use I'll get back in my right shoulder/arm/hand; or how much (or if) my pain will improve and how long that could take.  They have different guesses, but the conversations usually go something like this:

Dr: I'm sure if you get back 70% function you can live a normal life and you'll be happy with that
Me: But if I can work hard and get to 70%, surely I can just work hard for longer and get something better....?
Dr: Well.........
Me: *staring expectantly*
Dr: Sometimes it happens...... *trails off*

(Just for some perspective: my last evaluation, I was at 20% function - it took me 12 months to go from 15% to 20%.  I should have that evaluation done again this month. I think I've improved, but the last couple of times I've answered the questions, I feel better for the first 4 questions - yes, I can now turn on a tap 'with difficulty' and put on sunglasses 'with difficulty' instead of not at all... YES!!, I think, finally I'm not just circling 'I can't do this'' 'I can't do this'' 'I can't do this'; 'I can't do this'; 'I can't do this'......... then it moves on 'can you sleep on your affected side?'; 'can you reach up to the middle of your back/ undo your bra with your affected arm?'; 'can you reach a shelf at shoulder height with a straight arm?'; ' can you put a gallon of milk on a shelf at shoulder height with a straight arm?'; 'can you play tennis?' etc. etc. and it's back to  'I can't do this'' 'I can't do this'' 'I can't do this'; 'I can't do this'; 'I can't do this'............ I have to have improved a LITTLE....)

I learned in November 2012, after it took me 9 months to re-learn how to shrug my shoulder that I had done something none of my doctors knew whether to expect or not.  They didn't know if the neuromuscular connections were going to re-form after such a long period of detachment, and all the atrophy that goes with that.  But I worked damn hard on those shoulder shrugs, and as far as I am concerned, I can work damn hard on everything else too.... when I'm allowed...

I don't have unrealistic expectations (well..... maybe saying I know they're (slightly) unrealistic would be more accurate.... I do have expectations, I know they might not happen); I know if I do achieve certain things, it will be against the odds, and it will take a lot of hard work - and it won't happen any time soon.   I know that I can't even do the hard work until the nerves heal, which is estimated at 2(ish) years.  But it doesn't mean I will stop dreaming and stop trying and stop hoping as I do the tiny exercises I can do just now - which I think I am getting better at....

Definitely improving on my first attempts.... several weeks ago, my Scottish physio tried to get me to do a new exercise.  He demonstrated - stood in front of my, barely hunched over and swung his arms in a rhythm, into the middle, out to the side, crossing them in the middle, across the body. Ok, easy.  He went behind me to watch my scapular movement as I did the exercise.  I tried reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaallllllllllyyyy hard to make my right arm swing.  Nothing. (This still surprises me.)  He walked in front of me again, showed me the exercise again. Ok, yup, I know.  Walked around me again to watch my scapulae. Go.  I tried.  Nothing.  The left one was just swinging kind of oddly, as my brain attempted to make the right one mimic it, but I obviously hadn't tried that since my surgery. 'New' movement: doesn't work. My brain couldn't make my arm do the movement - this is the weirdest feeling ever, I really struggle to describe it.  My physio, a powerful motivator and someone who will work you with an appropriate mix of compassion + professional coach (/ slave driver in my athletic past - he is way too nice to me these days!) stood in front of me again.  "What exactly is the problem here?" he asked.  I showed him my pitiful attempt to swing my arm (which incidentally was also pretty sore and kind of felt like my hanging, disconnected arm might just drop to the ground out of its socket if my skin wasn't there... although my pride was hurting more I think).  I don't think he knew whether to laugh or feel sorry for me. (He chuckled, halfheartedly - I think if there's such a thing as a sympathetic chuckle, that's what I got.)

He stood in front of me told me to stand up straight and mirror him.  Eventually, my arm got a bit of rhythm - albeit a little awkward.   Now hunch slightly, is that more painful? Yes, but I'm ok (as the room filled with white sparkles - I can ignore them, it's the black sparkles that mean STOP... generally physios and doctors disagree, but it works for me - I have to move SOMETHING).  Again, he stood in front of me and I watched him as I swung my arms, still awkwardly, but at least moving this time.  He went behind me and looked at my scapula. "Useless," he said, "it's not moving."

Awesome.

And back to the quote, with a final 'new' exercise, also a few weeks ago. Standing very close to, and facing the door with my palms against the door at a comfortable height (around level with my chest), shoulder width apart, he told me to move up and down in tiny movements - a couple of centimetres, no more.  He stood behind me, watching my scapulae. Try it with wider arms. Same.  Smaller movements. Arms back closer together. Wider again. Tiny movements. Make them smaller.  Arms together.  Arms wider.... "What exactly are you thinking about right now?" he asked me. "I'm imagining I'm a butterfly, my left scapula is a wing and my right one's trying to do the same thing," I spat out, frustrated and exasperated. "Good," he said, "keep thinking like that."