It would be an understatement to say that I am frustrated. In 2003 I had the first hints of something not being 'right' with my back. At first it was a little twinge that showed up in my lower back. What has transpired since 2003 includes a never ending treadmill of trips to chiropractors, physical therapists and specialists. I've had three MRIs, hundreds of adjustments, traction therapy for my neck and traction therapy for my back. I've taken breaks from swimming, time off from cycling and time off from running. I've tried complete rest. (By the way, complete rest = weight gain!).
I've been to several top notch chiropractors, each who has tried to help me diagnose and treat my back. I've had the pleasure of working with some of the best physical therapists in the Bay Area. Each has been optimistic that they could help me become stronger than the definition of strong itself. I've been diagnosed with a degenerated disc at L-5 / S-1 and the idea is to shore up the core so that I don't unnecessarily move that area.
At first I avoided any meds. Then I relented because the pain was so bad and went with some ibuprofen. I've iced thousands of times. I've stretched. I've strengthened. I've tried yoga, dabbled in pilates. I've tried mental training exercises. I've read scores of books. Everything from looking at food as the root of inflammation to more general 'pain free living' books.
Now, I pop Voltaren with increasing frequency. Other than making my stomach feel like poo, I'm not sure those things help at all either.
Last year I took a big leap and opted for cortizone injections in my back. (A lot of fun, let me tell you). The cortizone was intended to reduce the inflammation and 'calm down' the area in which the pain was likely to be originating.
My first injections were in April 2007. It was very scary to go to the surgery center.
Who likes needles anyway? I certainly don't. Just getting an IV line makes my stomach twist into pretzels.
I survived the procedures without out too much trauma and within the first week improvement was significant. I felt like a brand new person. It is amazing how one's demeanor changes when pain fills your life. After those injections I was like the old, dynamic, 'real me' once again. I had some brief glimpses of the athletic prowess that lies within. I went up to Oregon and competed in the Pacific Crest Half Ironman triathlon. I posted the fastest 56 mile bike split of my career and got onto the run with a 5+ minute lead. I wasn't able to hold that lead and finished in 3rd, but that day showed me that I still had it and anything was possible.
Unfortuneately the cortizone effects were short lived. I went back in for repeat injections in September. The treatnebts had little positive effect. Just five weeks later, with the ITU duathlon world championships on the schedule, I was forced just a day before my flight to try a third emergency round of shots. Though the pain was slightly diminished my function was limited. I struggled through the world championships and finished 19th.
Since October of 2007, I have not raced. I have had a difficult time of walking, putting on my pants or training at all. Over the past few months, frustrated by a 20 pound gain in weight, I determined that 'rest' was doing nothing for my back or my former iron-body. I've gone back to strength training and cycling. Next week I will try swimming. The thing that is so frustrating is that I can function in certain situations with manageable pain, but then for no real reason, the next minute I struggle to walk.
Doctors have said I have a degenerative disc condition. I know I have issues with nerves getting pinched. (I'm guessing that's why I get periodioc blinding pain, easily fall for lack of motor control and the fact that putting on my socks might as well be an olympic gymnastic event).
I'm slowly adding more volume to my training, but I am still in pain. Sitting is horrid on my back, moving is better than not moving. Its like a horrible nightmare of closed doors. I keep trying to open doors but am hitting a brick wall.
I just called my specialist to try and get another appointment. Maybe I need to discuss surgery, something that scares the tar out of me. I won't even touch on the 'what ifs' of that one.
Ultimately, the choice is still mine. Sit inside, get fat and be in pain or go out and ride and deal with it. Perhaps when I get back from my ride the doctors will have called and another chapter will be added to this saga. Believe me, I've kept the story short. Beside pain and frustration the other theme that has stayed with me over 1800 days of struggle is optimism. I still believe I can lick this.
In Observance of Memorial Day…
4 years ago
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