Week 12, Post Injury

L1-L2 healed compression fractures - 6/18/18

How surreal is it to be told that I am cleared to go back to my normal life? After 3 months of being grounded from being a veterinary technician, a cyclist, a runner and a mover & shaker, the spine specialist said, "Just go slow getting back into things." The smashed portion of the bone has filled in. The stair step on the dorsal surface has filled in. The crumbles on the anterior portion of the bones are calloused in and more of a bone spur now (fucking fantastic, thanks, driver). The space will always be collapsed in, but I should be okay.

If you recall from April 6th's vague post, I was hit by a car on a 200 mile training ride. Lumbar vertebra 1 and 2 had 10% compression fractures, and my recovery for the past 12 weeks has been a very slow, painful crawl. I was off work for two weeks, then reduced work schedule for the next two after. I did nothing but learn how to walk, sit and function as a human for that first month. It was a dark time for me, because water walking did not feel like exercise and physical therapy felt impossible. After week six, I worked up enough courage to start a very slow yoga practice, and tentatively perched on my trainer. I felt better, physical therapy made me feel a little more powerful, and I was swimming. By the time Dirty Kanza came and went, I had snuck out on the bike trails once and hacked around Emporia, Kansas on Curt's fat bike.

This is the week after I would have completed Race Across the West with Sandy, and it's the week that I am "cleared to be me again." Leaving the clinic, I told Nathan that I just feel guilty.  Who walks away from getting hit by a car and is just fine after three months? He got pretty firm with me at that point, saying that I'm forgetting that I got hit by a car, and it's not been easy in any sense of the imagination. He doesn't use the words "lucky" or "grateful." I think he has been more angry at the driver than me, except on the days that the back spasms left me sobbing in bed.

He's not wrong, though - it's not been easy. There have been times in physical therapy where simple lunges or squats had me in tears from the frustration of not being able to do something so easy. After trying so hard to eliminate the phrase, "I'm sorry, I'm useless," I am back to saying that with all the frequency and honesty of someone who actually believes that about themselves. Work is just not the same, I've been a brain on wheels. I feel so weak, and I am desperate to get back into shape, but sometimes it seems so insurmountable. My moods have been horrible - just dark and short-fused. I think people who haven't kept in contact think I'm just fine (thanks to social media, anyway), but "just fine" is something we all tell ourselves to avoid our reality.

Despite being all in the clear, I do still have some residual pain - the area around the fractures can feel bruised of I extend my back, and I still get back spasms if I sit for too long. I joke that I am going to be like a shark: if I stop swimming, I will just die. Those jokes cover up my worries, though. Always first in my mind is: "This is my new normal." One friend said I change it up and call it my "New WTF."  That's fair.

After the appointment, I looked at Nathan and said, "Is it suspect if I join the women's ride tonight?" He stared at me for a minute and said as blandly as could be, "Wife. Get out of the house. Go." So, I joined my girlfriends for and easy cruise around the streets and bike trails in West Lafayette. It made sense - they have been so supportive in whatever way they knew how to be.  I've been lucky to have their friendship through it all.

I still balk a little when I think about my next steps - do I try to finish Ride Across Indiana, even though Team Pants Tent has disassembled? I am signed up for the CASAs for Kids' 24-Hour Cycling Challenge, am I going for the three-peat? Do I join Josh and Laura at Rebecca's Private Idaho? Sandy and I need to talk about our unfinished business of RAW. Maybe it's time to get my IUD out and have a baby. I don't fucking know.

What I do know: I start running at physical therapy, so I'll be back to jogging horses in no time. I have a meeting with my trainer at Human Movement & Performance, so my core and quads will be tight again someday, and maybe I won't feel so helpless holding the fractious horses.