Challenges

We face them every day, some are real, some are hurdles created in our sense of ability or lack there of. Nevertheless, as we face them, we are also facing our own character, self-worth, and inner desire to always succeed. Our superhero heart will always work to ensure we don’t give up, but our woe-is-me demon is constantly battling with doubt. Challenges are always wrestling with our inner self and fear is its weapon. Challenges can be good, and they surely can be bad. They can drive us to overcome fear, or they can trigger a defense when it comes from someone or something else. In sports, this word is used as often as vying, versus, matchup, and clash. A team is challenged to win but climbing a hill is a challenge sometimes insurmountable. When you feel there are no more challenges, one will most definitely face you head-on. Whether motivational or handicapping, its power is the same.

 I’m facing a challenge right now; one I had hoped I would never face again. But here I am, my back failing me again and my ability to do the simple task of walking has once again become a question. My symptoms seem less but are proving to be worse. I don’t have the pain from before but I’m more unstable. I’m worried, how could I not be as I’m facing what may prove to be the biggest challenge of my life to date. I know it may come across as whining, I sure feel like I am. I’m also more aware about being honest with myself and that seems to be playing against me. Jen is having her surgery in two days, and I am sure she’ll come out of it facing a hill, but she will tackle it easily. Two months more dealing with a decline in capability; a loss of capability to do my chores. Three weeks ago, I felt great. I was set to complete a big remodel project and finally be able to get my shop straightened out. I thought I could see the light at the end of the tunnel beginning to glow. That tunnel of remodeling that we have been in for four years. Only two steps were needed to throw those plans right out the window.

I was eating breakfast and was headed to go about my day next door to set the sink in the new cabinets, lay the rest of the flooring, and begin laying out the bunks for beds. As I stepped from the table, I felt something let go in my back. I saw lights, held on to the countertop thinking not now, why? An all too familiar pain had tapped me on the back and said hello. I hobbled to the bedroom, Lucy thinking I must be wanting to play, bent over and moaning. She beat me to the bed and I flopped down wondering what my next move would be. Do I call Jen and let her know? No, not yet let’s see if it goes away. Wonderful news, no pain the longer I laid there, and then… I tried to stand. Oh, my dear God, why do you hate me so much or something like that came out of my mouth. As I tried to stand, I got about three inches from the bed and fell back, giving into the pain. Fudge!!!! Maybe I need to lay here a little longer. I laid thinking how I really need to get up and get to the bathroom, down some pain meds and get muscle relaxers in me. I managed to do it, but I’ve blocked that few minutes from my mind.

I laid on the bed the rest of the day, cancelled dinner with Dad and told him I had done something to my back, and it was hurting. I was sure I would see him the next morning. It was later in the day I texted Jen and let her know I had tweaked my back. I had time to remember those things I was taught twelve years ago of how to stand from a chair, rise from the bed, stand, walk, etc. By the next morning, nothing had changed other than I had taken more meds than the last three months combined. The next day was filled with a lot of gingerly rising, walking, laying back down, cancelling dinner again. But the second morning I felt much better. I was ahead of the pain and was feeling ok. Back at the table, doing my morning sudoku and lifting a bite to my mouth and double bam, ka-bluey, holy-cow batman. It hit harder this time and I thought I was about to pass out next to Lucy on the bench seat. After a few minutes I was able to stand and head to the bed again, hopeful that the pain would be relieved by laying down. Lucy danced with excitement that we would again spend a day laying together and sleeping. I finally broke down and told Jen it was pretty bad, and I would let her know the next day how I felt and that if it was still bad, I would try to get to a doctor (her insistence) on Monday, but this was Friday. By Monday, I was feeling much better, however I knew things weren’t right and I had lost all motivation to do anything but sleep and when not sleeping to find a position where I wasn’t in pain. As the weekend went on everything eased, but I did call to see the doc. They advised to have my family doc set up and get a MRI and to provide a referral. Thank goodness I have a great doctor as I got a call within hours and had an MRI set up for the next day. Referral was also sent over and an appointment was set up with the surgeon for two days later.

MRI complete and shared with my overseeing nurses, Jen and Erica, I was told that it doesn’t look good and the report indicated the same sentiment. With the third confirmation coming from my doc stating I was more or less messed up; I had to agree. Two days later I received exactly what I did not want to hear, surgery and soon would be best. We might be able to do a temporary measure with an injection, but ultimately, we have to go in and install screws, lifts, and shiny new titanium disks to replace not just the hand-grenade L3 disk, but also the next three in line. And what will the recovery time be? One to two years. What? I don’t have time for this, I have too much to do dammit. Again, rudely informed I’m not superman and I would be better to associate myself with the word Fragile.

I’m back to feeling ok, but every time I try to do anything, my leg gives out and I get sick to my stomach. I don’t feel pain, but something is surely trying to let me know how bad things are. I have managed to mow, weed-eat, edge, and blow the yard into winter dormancy. I’ve arranged mowing for the first eight months following my surgery now scheduled for January. In the meantime, I’m going to make sure Jen recovers well, we have a good Christmas, and maybe I’ll get a few things done in prep, but mostly and resolving myself that my projects had come to a halt; I’ll have to wait until this time next year to get it completed or get out the pocketbook and have Josh finish for me. Argh! I hate it!

I’m now thinking stupid thoughts of what if I can’t walk, or have to use a cane forever, maybe worse. I now have to much time to think about all this, and it sucks, but I need Jen at her best to help me along the pathway to recovery. Another year of no camping, mowing, shooting, fishing, piddling in the garage, and many other things I love to do. Probably will only cancel one trip or give it away to the kids. I hope the next two months go by quickly so I can get into my big new challenge of learning to walk again for the third time. Re-energize myself into bettering my health and find the motivation to get myself back to camping and taking photos of the wonders every traveler should enjoy. A challenge I didn’t want, but dammit, I’ll climb your hill and I will win! You won’t keep me down!