One Year Later

It was a year ago last night when I herniated my disc and started a year of recovery and re-injury. I've blogged about it all along, including practical advice for dealing with back pain, advice for friends of patients like me (and for patients like me), and several posts on gratitude (a couple here and here).

But here at the first anniversary mark of what has become a chronic condition, I wanted to reflect on the year which has taught me so much. That's not to say I'm glad I've had this experience--the pain, the limitations, the isolation, the disappointment, the vulnerability and fear, the uncomfortable personal and interpersonal insights, even the considerable expense--have been very hard. But one of the things I've been learning to do this year is not to dwell on those too much because it just makes everything worse. In the mean time, I've learned numerous valuable lessons which I hope will stand me in good stead.

• Common humanity: I have become more aware of the suffering (using the Buddhist term intentionally) around me and more connected to the people around me through it, as I described here. I have more compassion, more patience, for the weaknesses and faults and trials and challenges others and myself now . . .
• Compassion: the kindness of friends and family has been overwhelming and indispensable. From childcare to meals, from visits to email, from rides to errand help, and 6 weeks of TLC from my folks, I have witnessed and benefited from the compassion and generosity of others. And for all of this, I have lived in a continuous state of . . .
• Gratitude: I am thankful for my family and friends and for all of our privilege. It is hard not to want to pay everyone back, so to speak, for what they've done--but how do you pay back people for saving you?--so I will pay it forward.
• Power of the mind: this is a double-edged sword. My mind could take me to depths of despair and fear and anxiety and loneliness, but also to places of calm and resilience and patience and perseverance. And my mind kept me from teetering over the edge of boredom--learning colonial history, studying Italian, reading books on Buddhism. Through meditation, I have tried to lean one way more than the other. And, as Diana Nyad says, to be my most courageous self. Because it takes courage and stamina to walk through pain. But as I've learned the limits of my body, I've learned the limitlessness of my spirit. Adjacent to this is . . .
• Adapatability: I can adjust to a lot. I can do without. I can cope with change and live with limits and disappointment. I don't need what I thought I did. So can Mama Hungry. So can our kids, who have been amazing at adjusting to a mom who can't sit or bend or drive. When I drop things, they pick them up without thinking; when we have to find a way to play or color or read in an awkward position, they make it work without complaint. And when I do something, achieve something, I haven't in awhile--like come downstairs for dinner or go on an outing, they celebrate by dancing around and giving me high-fives. It's been wonderful to see their innate empathy.
• Personal Responsibility: I am much more aware of how my choices affect me and those around me. When I overdo it, Mama and the kids pay through my absence, in addition to the discomfort I experience. Or my folks give up weeks of their lives to come take care of us all. Or worry about us when they're not here. I have to own that while I don't intentionally cause any of that, I am the vehicle of it. And so I'm now much more vigilant in my movements, exercises, medications, diet, obligations. In a separate realm, I have also become much more pro-active in my own health care choices, realizing that I have to stay on top of doctors, diagnoses, medications, and pursue that which doesn't work or feel right. I'm usually really loyal to doctors, and loathe changing, but realize that gets me nowhere. I need to be my best self and find those who can help me.

It's not everything--and as months stretch into years, there will be more--but it's fundamentally altered who I am. And not just because disc L5-SI1 isn't what it should be. Only two other events have topped it for cumulative effect--falling in love with Mama and having children. And so while my back injury is literally a pain in my ass, it's not all bad.