News Flash

I just found out one guy RAN 8 weeks after amputation here. Note: that link may require a login, but article refers to Dale Jackaman of Canada. "Thanks to his hard work and his team at GF Strong, he was able to run down the hall at full speed 2 months after amputation. Now, 6 years after his amputation, Jackaman leads a “normal,” active life."

I am seeing my prosthetist for the first time today after 9 weeks. I expect to run around the block this evening...

...not really but soon!

Amp PT

I have been doing upper and lower body PT since leaving Roper Rehabilitation Hospital. As a runner I rarely found or made time to do much upper body strengthening. As it stands, or sits, I have made some strides in strength training and worked into a routine that I will continue once I start running again.

This is the lower body plan I use plus a few added things:

http://tinyurl.com/nxp8h9

I have worked up from no weight to 20 lbs in the form of two 10 lb Reebok ankle weights you see in these pics. Jennifer had some slightly lighter weights that I used initially.

The above is the "Hip Outward and Inward" exercise with the weights. In reality this is only about 10 - 12 lbs more than an intact leg. I do about 75 - 100 reps.

This is the "Hip and Knee Bending" exercise. Right now I do about 200 reps. The thigh still atrophies; if I could work out 3x a day I might arrest it.

This is the "Short Arc Quad" exercise. I stack the weights to get good resistance. I usually do 30 - 50 reps 2x or 3x.

*******

I'd show some upper body stuff here but there isn't enough room for my giant chest, uh, head as Jennifer happily concludes.

I hope to keep this up once I start running again, I believe a strong core will make me a better runner and less prone to injury. I will likely do strength training 3 - 4x a week which should be enough to maintain and improve my fitness. If I get very ambitious I might join a nearby 24/7 club to have access to more sophisticated equipment.

I won't be rupturing my right achilles tendon ever, but having a strong left leg will be more important than ever. Can it be I will be walking without pain in a few weeks? Except for the phantom pain, which I have come to a compromise; it will keep pestering me and I will keep it in a headlock. Since PP has dumb tenacity and I have the Scottish ancestry, there is only one outcome to be had.

I go to see my CP tomorrow. If my incision has healed we can start the fitting process. Here's hope for real change I can believe in! = ;-)

8 1/2 Weeks

I continue to be amazed by the scenery of my journey through foot amputation. It's like going down a road you've always traveled, and one evening at twilight all that was old is illuminated in ethereal brilliance.

Earth and heaven collide.

*******

On Wednesday, June 10th, I met my CP, Larry Wiley at Dr. Ohlson's office at my eight-week post-op appointment. Larry and I had a good conversation in the waiting room; I am very concerned about sweat and my upcoming prosthetic foot, specifically the liner. Being in a sub-tropical climate and knowing it's sometimes difficult to know if you are sweating or it's an afternoon shower drenching you to the bone, I am worried I am going to spend more time drying out my liner than running during the summer. I have a few more months before I can run again, so it's best that I find a reasonable solution - if one exists - before then.

I was mildly surprised that no x-ray was taken this visit to see if the bones had fused together. Larry and I were taken to an examining room where we continued our discussion until Dr. Ohlson arrived. I introduced Dr. Ohlson to Larry; others from Larry's office had spoken to Dr. Ohlson in the past but this was the first time these two had gotten together. I was very pleased that Dr. Ohlson asked to trade cell numbers with Larry and told him to call with any questions.

The doc examined my stump and removed the steri-strips and the gunk that was under them. I cleaned up nicely but still have a couple of spots that need a little more time to dry and completely heal. I made an appointment to see Dr. Ohlson in six weeks and I will see Larry on Wednesday, June 17. It seems a little strange that I might be walking about on my new foot in a matter of weeks. I have been going through the surgery and recovery process for the past 8 weeks but it has been since November 2007 since I was able to run.

Larry informed me that I have been approved for a free foot from Ossur! I will have more details soon, as originally Larry wanted me to participate in a local seminar sporting said foot on June 26. It seems a little quick for me to be up and walking around but if I am I be one happy dude. Once I get all the details - mainly because I hate disappointment and if for some reason this falls through - I will make a separate post about it.

*******

On Thursday I had the honor of speaking to Mr. Dick Traum, founder and president of the Achilles Track Club (ATC). When you talk about turning adversity into opportunity, Mr. Traum has done that for himself and thousands of other so-called disabled athletes. I say "so-called" because I do not see people who have faced amputation or were born with a birth defective or had some other circumstance that claimed some part of their bodies as disabled. They are giants; giants of spirit and heart.

From being the first amputee to run a marathon to founding an organization with over 150 chapters in the US and around the world, Dick Traum took losing a leg in stride and has touched lives worldwide.

When I talked to Mr. Traum he said he expected me to tell him I would be running the NYC Marathon in a year or two. I have resisted running big marathons in the past - except for the Chicago marathon in 1997 - but I have been giving this some serious thought. Since I sitting here with a stump and a wheelchair and crutches for mobility, I am some distance from even walking again.

I have several reasons why I should do this race, in memory of an old cyber-running friend Jim Ahrens; in honor of those who died on 9/11; and for the help and support of the ATC.

The marathon is still not a distance I have had much luck with; I train to race it, not to finish, and in every match so far it has demolished me. With this in mind, I don't want to commit to something before I know I can give it all I have on race day. I am old school track, lacking talent but never the determination to give my best.

We shall see.

Glen, Oscar, and Distant Me

When I was a child, Glenn Cunningham was my hero. I recall reading his story and made a connection that has stayed with me all my life. No matter what I have been through, someone has had tougher circumstances and prevailed beyond belief. Glenn suffered horrible burns to his legs yet became a world record holder and possibly broke the 4-minute mile many years before Sir Roger Bannister. Glen's mantra was simple: Never quit.

"Still others - and I am one of those - never give up. We fight and fight and fight. We fight no matter the cost of battle, the loses we take, the improbability of success. We fight to the very end. It's not a question of courage. It's something constitutional, an inability to let go. It may be nothing more than life-hungry stupidity."

- Pi, from "The Life of Pi" (Yann Martel)

Perhaps stupidity, but doubt clouds that excuse.


This morning I have been watching videos of Oscar Pistorius.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UJgIPk9VsCY

Oscar is my inspiration for going down this one-footed path back to running. I knew I could run again with the amputation of my non-functioning and painful paw; I used Oscar as the example to my surgeon and family alike. As a child, Oscar had little choice in his case; I believe if had he a vote in the matter would have arrived at the same conclusion.

Oscar is a champion. We all fall short of perfection, we are human after all. But Oscar comes dangerously close to what all athletes strive for and that is...perfection. I am talking about human perfection, that impossible height reached by sheer will, not letting legs cooked to the bone or being born with no bone at all stop the heart from it's desire.

"Now I will turn the miracle into routine. The amazing will be seen every day."

- Pi, from "The Life of Pi" (Yann Martel)

It amazes me that so many able-bodied people moan and bitch for others to defend their weakness, that being laziness. It seems benign yet it can bring nations to their knees. The absent deep respect for their ancient human roots, the runner who chases prey until one drops from exhaustion and the other feeds their family. They are lost souls who bring others into the caverns of lost hope with no path to the world above and stark freedom.

Pi shared a small boat, lost in the wide Pacific, with a Bengal tiger. Glenn's tiger was a horrible accident; Oscar's tiger was a birth defect; my tiger was a yellow and black school bus.

I have little talent but Glenn and Oscar's life examples help me survive in this small boat with a fierce animal. As I work though my journey, I begin to see through those slits of blue sky at my prey, this lean body of sinew and muscle, small and destructible, yet unwilling to yield.

Ever.


(Oscar Pistorius image courtesy of www.ossur.com)

All Quiet on the Stump Front

This week was quiet on the stump front, perhaps in anticipation of next Wednesday's eight-week anniversary of the foot removal service. My CP is going with me to get the verdict: yes, we start the prosthetic fitting process or no, not quite ready and wait another 4 weeks. Worst scenario: no bone bridge and revision surgery.

I still have the tiny spots of blood on my shrinker...not sure what this means but I guess I'll find out soon enough. After nearly eight weeks I would expect there to be no bleeding. I cannot remember how long I had bleeding after my first surgery; the heel osteotomy incision took the longest amount of time to heal, definitely more than 4 weeks but less than 8.

I joined the NYC Achilles Track Club this week and got an enthusiastic welcome. With our semi-tropical weather I am very concerned about the problem of sweating and running with a prosthetic leg. I have read about people having to stop and dry out the liner in more moderate climes, so I am anxious about trying to run while sweat pours off me. This was one question I thought other amputee (amp) athletes could answer.

The problem is the liners do not breathe, so until this bugaboo is solved sweat is going to pose trouble. I have been told that many use talc in the liner to help manage sweat, as well as the prescription anti-perspiration Drysol. It's going to be a few months before I can run any distance, so I will have to find what works for me as Dr. George Sheehan noted as "...an experiment of one." I do have an idea that I want to try should I find this to be a major problem, so I am ready the challenge.

******

I asked my brother Mark to help with some yard work, meaning I would practice my supervisory skills while he clipped, poured, and tossed. There really was, as I promised, about an hour's work. Of course as he worked under my tutelage, I noticed several days' worth of details to attend to, so I am very anxious to get mobile again.

My PT session went well today. Whatever muscle I pulled in my chest is much better now, I imagine in another week or two the pain will vanish. I need to do more intense sessions, which I am scheduling for Sundays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. On those days I am going to try to do two sessions or at least one full body and then lower body/right leg workout if limited by time.

My right leg is atrophying and I'm trying to slow the rate it evaporates into punydom. This is to be expected but I do not like it much. Once I get up on my two feet I can stop this musculature death spiral.

Jennifer grilled us a delicious dinner tonight. Back in my two-footed days I would grill, yeah, the easy part, while Jen fixed everything else. In a few weeks things should be getting back to normal. We did go out to the Pitt Street bridge for a little while on Saturday, just missed seeing a waterspout in the harbor.

*******

I have Wednesday off when I have my doctor's appointment. Whether I go forward or a step back is out of my hands. Either way the journey does continue and I am along for the ride, although right now it seems I am strapped to the roof of the family wagon. The view is different up here, I don't mind the rain, but the drive-through clearance bar does pose a problem to my health.

As the wise Mary Hartman once said: "Things are not so bad that they couldn't be worse."

The Joy To Be

Old Flowertown race start,
brother David in jeans left of dogwood tree on sidewalk

For the most part I am over my decision to lose my foot in order to regain my life. When I see my stump - which is just easier to say and write than "residual limb" - I have some pangs, well, not of remorse but of disbelief that I have no right foot. I see my Nike encased left foot, on a strong left leg that could propel me above the rim, or when paired with it's mirrored twin, run as far and as long as we cared to go...and it is itching to fly again. The right is just itching and cannot be scratched.

There is one thing I want to think of often but do not dwell on or bring into the light for very long: running again on my prosthetic leg. I see it out there, this dream where I am running, flying again in the flowertown in the pines, my favorite race.

I could probably run it blindfolded: down Laurel Street and the playground where I played Little League ball and later pickup basketball; past the Episcopal Church, which in spring would cause atheists to consider attending a service in its loveliness; around President's Circle, just keep turning left and you won't get lost; down Linwood Lane where my high school pal David Laudig lived; cross West Carolina and onto Sumter and some of the most beautiful historic homes in the town; past the VFW hut and where the race use to start some years ago; turn onto Richardson with a slight uphill finish. Kick your guts out.

All along the course I see the ghosts of my past; they are welcoming in their spirits. Hello Tom, my old employer. Hey Boobie and Tubby, who's got game? David, are you going to Explorer's this week? Eric, I'm going long, let 'er rip!

And yes, I see my brother, standing near the Catholic church, silent now. I wave to him.

I think of running at odd and not so odd times. On the way to work. Doctor's office visit. Driving to lunch. Sitting here on the couch. Alone with my thoughts.

Rarely do I look at my leg and feel any self-pity. It does seem very strange that I, a runner all of my life, have no right foot. It was my decision and I know it was right, that this time will pass and soon I will run again.

It is the thought and dreams of running that charge me with emotion and can bring tears. The pure animal joy of moving through time and space.

I am an animal.

I see myself running like a deer along the side of the road as I drive into work. In my dream I am racing, feeling the pull and release of the muscle and tendon, the foot impact, compression and then ever so briefly, airborne. I see my running companions, none of whom I train with but all of whom have wings and we, a colored flock of avian souls, strain higher toward our common destiny.

We are flying in the pines.

This thing is holy, this is my church, my now. I live here, in this moment.

Flying.

bliss

Wednesday, June 3

The photo is what Jennifer correctly calls my nest where these rambling are rattled off the laptop. It has been my home through two foot surgeries and it is a struggle to keep it as, uh, clean as this fuzzy pic indicates.

I took today off; I've have quite a few vacation days to burn so I don't lose them. This is sometimes difficult to do in IT, as many things have to be done after hours so the production train stays on the track...plus the passengers are mildly irritated when the choo-choo jumps the tracks.

Yesterday was my 7-week post-op mark. Next Wednesday, June 10, I go back for my 8-week checkup with Dr. Ohlson. He'll have an x-ray taken of my stump and will want to see the fuzzy image where the bones have grown together. My Ertl has a screw holding the bridge together, some do not use hardware but I trust this will be best for me. My CP Larry Wiley plans to go with me; if all looks good I will be in his care for the start of my prosthesis fitting. If the bones aren't quite ready I might have to wait another 4 weeks or so. If the bridge has not grown together, well, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.

I am having a consistent tiny spot or two of blood on my shrinker when I check it. I wash it about every three days and hope not to find any spots. So far every time there is a dot or two of the red marker. I still have the Steri-Strips over the incision; I am careful when I wash the stump not to disturb them and they are all intact.

I ran out of Gabapentin and have switched back to Lyrica at a higher dose to see if it helps with the dreaded phantom pain. Hard to say after one day, but it is certainly no worse. I'll see how it goes at work tomorrow. As I write this I can feel the rawness of the heel and the electrical tingle in the first metatarsal in a foot seven weeks severed.

Today I worked on a couple of upcoming posts, one about running from my current sideline seat and then other about someone I deeply admire, Oscar Pistorius. A great champion in every regard, legs or no legs. After watching a number of YouTube videos of his races and interviews, I am seeing less of a man on running blades and more of the very essence of the model athlete as embodied in a runner. He raises the human race up one full measure. God knows we need it.

I just finished my PT. My chest muscle pull is slowly getting better; it doesn't have shooting pains when I lie down as much. I am still avoiding doing pushups, although I did 10 tonight because I wanted to see if I could. Yep!

I have been looking for some sort of a wrap-around limb massager for my stump. When I can use either my hands or the Wahl massager on it, I get some relief as long as I employ them. At work the phantom pains typically get stronger as the day goes on...a couple of times I had to take a pain pill to take off the jagged edge. I thought if I could get an electric hands free device then I could avoid the medication and the loss of my alleged mental acuity. After beating up the keyboard on Google, I found the "RevitaLeg Portable Leg Massager" and ordered it through Amazon. From the description it sounded perfect, but some personal reviews said it was cheaply made and didn't work well. I am so desperate for the promised relief that I'll have to give it a chance.

It is after 10 pm as I write this so I need to think about going to bed. I had a deep nap late this afternoon; I think I hit the very bottom of the sleeping well. Overall I am sleeping a bit better since I upped the nerve med dosage.

Today I found someone also in pain, who lost their love in a tragic accident. I nearly lost Jennifer to a drowning accident a few years ago; I can imagine but know I cannot possibly understand such a loss. The death of someone near is not unlike phantom pain. The object is gone, ripped from life, thrown in that deep black pit of sorrow that goes on and on. Indeed, time heals all wounds, but time knows not itself.

Although losing this foot is, as things go, insignificant, it continues to show and teach me a greater awareness outside this 56-year-old body. We all must keep going, there is no looking back, nothing to see there, keep climbing the mountain.

Where we stop we will have time enough to enjoy the view.