Feeling strong physically and mentally

Last week, I “graduated” from physical therapy I was having for a pinched nerve in my neck. I didn’t receive a diploma, but I received a cool T-shirt that says “Physical Therapy Brings Motion to Life” and a sheaf of papers showing me the different exercises I need to continue to do on my own.

More important than any diploma is the strength that I found in physical therapy.

Darius, Katie, and Kyle made up my  PT team.

Different people in my family and in Larry’s family have, over the years, given physical therapy a bad name. In my opinion, they haven’t seemed to take it seriously and have seemed to view it as something to get through—to go through the motions—before what was really desired could happen: surgery.

I was determined that I was not going to have that attitude.

Surgery is sometimes needed. It’s sometimes the best option. But if other, less invasive, options are possibly in the end just as effective, why not try them and give them our best shot?

My orthopedic doctor was very clear with me about my options and even wrote out a list: medication, physical therapy, epidurals, surgery. He circled medication and physical therapy and said we would start with those.

I pointed to the word surgery on the paper and told him I had no plans for that.

“Work hard in therapy, OK?” he said.

And I did. I have done the stretching exercises at home and the movement exercises at PT, lifting weights, pulling on resistance bands, lying on my stomach while I lifted my affected arm over and over.

And I received so much encouragement from the staff at the rehab center. They had such positive attitudes. They challenged me physically and celebrated with me as I became stronger.

And I saw how they treated other patients. Sometimes I could see pain in the faces of people as they struggled to get better. The therapists and assistants were partners in that journey.

At the end of each PT session, I used the cervical traction machine. It was in a room off the main area where most of the therapy was done.

As I lay on the table and had my head pulled away from my neck (sounds painful, but it actually felt good), I could hear sounds from the main room. I heard therapists and assistants asking other patients how they were, expressing sympathy, setting out plans, counting out exercises, encouraging them.

What a positive place to be, I thought.

I still have pain. It got worse after I stopped taking prescription NSAIDS. But it’s not as bad as it was. And my muscles in and around my shoulders and neck are getting stronger. I know more about how my posture affects how I feel.

I had a talk with the main physical therapist on my last day, and we discussed future options. He assured me that I could get better.

That helped strengthen my belief that I have a lot of control in my recovery. There is a lot I can do to get better. And isn’t that true with anything in life, physical, mental, and emotional? We don’t have control over everything, but we can do our best with what we do have control over.

Now I’m going to work on my strength at the Altavista YMCA, where Larry and I are members. My plan is to go over today after I finish at the newspaper office and sort out which machines will work the right muscles. I also have elastic bands to work with at home.

And I am going to get even stronger.

In what ways are you trying to get stronger?

Anniversary

On Friday, Nov. 7, eleven years ago, Larry and I went to the Campbell County courthouse and got married. The past eleven years have been the best of my life.

Larry and I had planned on a small church wedding. But the arrangements began to seem complicated, and we started thinking more about what we really wanted: to be married.

A few months before our planned wedding in January 2004, I moved my furniture and most of my things into Larry’s house. But Waddles and I still lived in Rustburg.

One day, while I was over at Larry’s house, he asked, “Would you ever want to elope?”

I was surprised, but we talked about it and decided that the best course to take was to get married at the courthouse by the judge so our close family could be there.

Six weeks later, we got married.

That morning, after I got dressed and ready to go, my brothers and mother and I gathered to drive to the courthouse. One of my brothers was a volunteer EMT at the time, and he had brought one of the ambulances to Rustburg to pick up some things for a fundraiser.

He suggested ferrying me up to the courthouse in the emergency vehicle. He didn’t run the lights, though—that was against the code.

So Larry, standing outside the courthouse with his parents and daughter, saw me arrive in an ambulance. Unfortunately, we didn’t get pictures of that.

We went up to the third floor to the circuit court, and Judge Samuel Johnston performed the wedding.

He said he was glad to have a happy task to do since he had presided over a testy divorce earlier that week.

Years later, the now-retired Judge Johnston wrote a book, and I interviewed him about it for the newspaper. I told him that he had married my husband and me.

“Did it stick?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, it stuck,” I said.

Happy Anniversary, dear Larry! 

Deer in the road

Fall colors: red leaves and blue sky.

It’s that time of year again when driving, especially at night, makes me a little nervous because of concern over deer in the road.

Deer are plentiful in our area year-round. They often visit our yard, and we see them in other places in the neighborhood. We enjoy their presence.

 

This is a poor photograph, but it's one I took through the window at night in September. The deer set off the motion lights in the yard. If I open the door to go out and try for a better photo, they run.

But the big fear is that we’ll hit one while driving.

According to the Virginia DMV, most deer-related accidents in Virginia occur in the fall months, October through December.

I was part of those statistics five years ago, in December 2009.

I was driving back to Altavista from Forest, which is in Bedford County, a neighboring county. The back roads I took were curvy and sometimes narrow, but the route cut miles off the trip and provided lovely views.

It was about 10:30 in the morning. I had seen a deer standing in a yard as I passed, so I had a fresh reminder of their presence. I was just tooling along, under the speed limit. I wasn’t listening to the radio. I wasn’t eating. I was just driving.

And it still happened.

My car hit something as I came around a curve. I saw a deer flashing away from my car. The hood of my car was crumpled.

I was shocked, but I managed to find a place to pull over. A kind couple turned their pickup around and came to check on me. We looked at my car. Deer hair covered the hood. Everything in the front seemed pushed towards the front seats. It was a mess.

The couple stayed with me until the state trooper arrived. Then Larry arrived.

He said as he walked up to my car, the trooper turned to him and said, “She’s all right. But I think she’s more upset about the deer than the car.”

“That would be right,” Larry said to him.

And I was upset. I felt terrible that I had hit the deer. Apparently it had jumped a fence and then tried to clear the road. The trooper speculated that hunters were out with dogs, running the deer.

I was lucky. I wasn’t hurt and my car, though heavily damaged, wasn’t totaled. I was especially nervous driving for a while, but that settled down.

What I kept thinking was, I did everything I could to avoid an accident. I wasn’t speeding. I wasn’t distracted. And I still hit a deer.

That notion that we can do everything “right” and still have trouble is sobering, and not an easy one to accept when you have an uneasy relationship with uncertainty, as I do.

After the crash, my boss gave me some little whistle-like gadgets to put on the front fender. They are supposed to help prevent deer from running out in front of your car. I don’t know if they actually work, but I was willing to try them, and they’re still on my car.

And that idea that bad things can happen anytime? I have to accept it. I have to get used to it. All I can do is my best to drive carefully. That’s all any of us can do.

Do you see wildlife near the highways where you live?

The dentist and OCD

Do you dread dentist appointments? Do you hate the thought of sitting in that chair with the fear of needles, drills, and other scary looking tools?

Yes, me, too.

Though I don’t dread it like I used to do. And I consider that lessening of anxiety a triumph over a bit of OCD in my life.

I went to the dentist this week for my six-month check-up. I’ve been seeing the same dentist for 29 years, and I wouldn’t trade him for another. He understands my teeth: their thin enamel, their hyper-sensitivity. He’s good at what he does.

And he’s very kind. The other day, the dental hygienist did the cleaning, as usual, then the dentist came in to look things over. As is usually the case now, he pronounced everything fine and told me he’d see me in six months.

“But if you need anything before then, you know we’re here for you,” he said.

I have spent a lifetime being vigilant about brushing my teeth and, as an adult, flossing. But I’ve had cavities and have had to have several root canals. We’re not sure why I have such problems. Perhaps the lack of fluoride as a child. Perhaps the thin enamel. Perhaps just bad genes.

When I started having OCD symptoms, the trips to the dentist became part of my obsessions.

As a dentist appointment drew closer, I felt very anxious. More importantly, I felt like I couldn’t relax, couldn’t NOT worry, until the visit was over.

If I had to return to the dentist for a cavity filling or a root canal, I tried to get an appointment as soon as possible. The sooner it was, the sooner I could get it over with and be OK.

If the appointment wasn’t soon enough (in my opinion), then I would call the dentist office multiple times, asking about cancellations.

When I grew in understanding that fear of uncertainty is a big part of OCD, I began to see that I would have to live with the idea that painful, uncomfortable, scary things were in my future, were in everyone’s future. That’s life.

But in the meantime, I was wasting the present by not allowing myself to enjoy life until the “big event” was over. I’ve learned that the present, right now, is so important.

Life is to be enjoyed and appreciated now.

Also, as my OCD improved overall, the improvement included a lessening of that belief that I couldn’t be OK until all worries were taken care of.

So I go see the dentist every six months. I still feel a little trepidation at the thought of something being wrong with my teeth. But I get through it. And if I need to go back for some work, I no longer obsess over getting the work done immediately.

It’s nice to be able to enjoy the present as best as I can.

So, what’s your relationship with the dental office?

Down and Back: Adapting to Change

The leaves are starting to pile up in the yard.

Down and back. Shoulders down and back.

That has been almost a mantra for me over the past few weeks. Ever since I started physical therapy on Oct. 3, therapists have reminded me many times to make sure my shoulders are down—not up around my ears—and back—not slumped forward.

Because I do tend to slump. My posture is horrible. Years of hunching over first paper and pen, then typewriters, then a word processor, then computers have instilled in me a slumped over posture.

Even now, as I write this, I have to remind myself over and over to sit up straight.

One of my therapists, Kyle, explained that when I lift up my right shoulder, whether it’s to pick up something, reach for something, or indulging in bad posture, I’m “grinding” those nerves that are irritated.

“When you feel pain, check to see what position your shoulder is in,” he told me once.

He recommended finding a cue to remind myself to keep the shoulders down and back. So far, I realize pretty quickly when I’m slumping forward or holding my shoulders up around my ears. But I would like to think of an actual cue.

Physical therapy has been a positive experience for me. I still have pain, but I am feeling stronger. And Kyle, plus Darius and Katie, are teaching me ways to adapt so I’m not putting pressure on nerves.

For example, during last Thursday’s session, I was having a lot of pain when I lifted up both arms to do an exercise with a stretch band. That pain had gotten better, but it seemed to have flared up again.

I can easily tell now what muscle soreness from exercise is and what the original nerve pain is.

Katie and Kyle were ready to find another way for me to strengthen the muscles without pain. It involved lying face down on a table and lifting my arm from that position. Gravity wasn’t pulling on my shoulder, so no pain.

I’ve been working on making adjustments in other areas of my life, too. When the pain was at its worst, it was very hard to use the computer—to move the mouse around, to hold my arms up to type.

Not using a computer was not an option for me. I write and edit for a living. I write and edit because I love doing those things.

The written word is like my breath.

So I am adapting. At home, I placed a firm pillow in my desk chair to lift myself up so I didn’t have to do any lifting of the shoulder to work.

I’m still working on my desk environment at the newspaper office. I originally had the mouse and its pad almost an arm’s length away from me so I could use the space right in front of me to place notebooks, reports, etc. Reaching for the mouse and moving it hurt. I found that moving the mouse pad closer to me helped a great deal.

In my daily life, I’ve learned that it’s OK to place my drinking glass on the left side of my plate so I can lift it with my left hand. I’ve learned that I can throw things pretty well with my left hand when I’m playing with Chase Bird. (He likes to smack rolled up pieces of paper or little play mice. It’s like playing volleyball with him.)

Chase Bird enjoying the sunshine on the enclosed porch.

A doctor told me years ago that I would have to adapt my life to having depression. I learned what helps me with the depression, and with OCD, and what doesn’t.

I’m learning that it works with my physical health, too. I can find ways to do the things I want to do. I just have to adapt.

And keep my shoulders down and back.

Have you ever had to adapt the way you did an activity? What would be a good cue to remind me to place my shoulders in a better position? I appreciate your input!

The blessing of animals

I am letting this photograph and some quotes speak for me today.

“Animals, like us, are living souls. They are not things. They are not objects. Neither are they human. Yet they mourn. They love. They dance. They suffer. They know the peaks and chasms of being.”

― Gary Kowalski, The Souls of Animals

“Animals can communicate quite well. And they do. And generally speaking, they are ignored”

― Alice Walker

“What sets humans apart from animals is that we have to walk around saying how smart we are, and animals just live their lives.”

― Chanctetinyea J.J. Ouellette

“Lacking a shared language, emotions are perhaps our most effective means of cross-species communication. We can share our emotions, we can understand the language of feelings, and that's why we form deep and enduring social bonds with many other beings. Emotions are the glue that binds.”

― Marc Bekoff, The Emotional Lives of Animals: A Leading Scientist Explores Animal Joy, Sorrow, and Empathy and Why They Matter

What do you think the crow and the squirrel are saying to each other? 

Celebrating

After a week of rain on and off, the sun shone this Saturday and Sunday and temperatures were in that lovely range of 50s and 60s. In other words, we enjoyed some glorious fall days.

It was also Larry’s birthday weekend.

In celebration of his special day and my slowly easing pain from the pinched nerve (fingers crossed!), we spent some time outside enjoying the blue sky, the changing leaves, and the air that just feels fresher somehow.

Saturday night, we drove to Gretna, a nearby town, to have dinner at J.T.’s at the Lavalette. The house was built in the 1880s, with additions constructed in the 1920s.

It’s a lovely old house that now provides an excellent place to enjoy good food among the best things about old houses: huge windows, eleven fireplaces, hardwood floors, high ceilings, and a wide, wrap-around porch.

The Lavalette House before dark.

The Lavalette House after dinner, with darkness setting in.

Sunday, we traipsed around outside our house and in English Park, down by the Staunton River.

Larry at the end of the driveway, getting the paper out of the box.

These trees are in our neighbor's yard. I like the red and yellow so close together.

 

These red leaves are on one of the oak trees in our front yard.

Looking across the Staunton River.

We made a lot of noise as we walked over the leaves carpeting the ground beside the river.

A view of the river between the trees.

An Eagle Scout planted an orchard in the park as part of the steps he took to become an Eagle.

The sign explains the purpose of the orchard. It includes apple, pear, and plum trees.

What have you been celebrating lately?