(No) Running (Allowed) Update

It's been about a week since I first injured my foot. And I'm going crazy. Nutso. Insane. Three fries short of a happy meal. Bonkers. Wacko. (You get the idea).

I'm sad to say I don't really think it's getting better. Every time I think its on the mend, I have to remind myself how much tylenol I've just had. I can't even walk without limping. I confess to pretending I'm a doctor with a degree from google, especially when I read things like this:

What causes stress fractures?

• Over use! (check)
  
• Too much training, too soon without enough rest! (check, definitely the without enough rest part)
  
• Overpronation (ehh, I pronate a little)
  
• Oversupination
  
• They are common in army recruits (often called a march fracture), runners, ballet dancers, and gymnasts. (double check)
  

What are the symptoms of stress fractures?

• Foot metatarsal pain which comes on gradually. (check)
  
• Pain is located towards the mid/front of the foot. (check)
  
• Pain is aggravated by weight bearing activities such as walking, running or dancing. (check, and #sadpanda)
  
• Pain to touch the bone at the point it is broken. (Check. Hello third metatarsal!!)
  
• Swelling is often present. (check, and it's gotten worse this week)
  
• An X-ray will often not show the fracture until two or three weeks after it has started to heal. (uhh what???)
  

Here I was thinking my x-rays from my ER visit this weekend were relatively conclusive. Unbeknownst to me, they may not show anything for another week or so!

I'm usually not the diagnose myself type. I was prepared to let this foot have some well earned rest for 7-10 days, and I confess I was expecting it to be much better by now. It's been 4 days of no running and limited walking. But maybe this internet diagnosis will get me back to Dr. Fleeter, who 'scoped my knee after a fall two years ago. (Turns out, he also specializes in sports and running injuries, and supports the local triathlon group).

Maybe most scary of all, I need to revisit my Marine Corps Marathon aspirations. After an intense training summer, my attitude towards running has shifted a little. I get wrapped up in the training and the goals, and I forget what a gift it is to be running and moving without the fear of my heart blowing up. This enforced break - short as it is already - has already reminded me that running's not a chore. I literally wake up and my body is already craving that freedom of movement, seeking that predictable meditative momentum of the trail.

"Whatever you may be missing right now - a person, a place, a feeling, maybe you are injured and missing running - whatever it is, have peace and take heart - remember that any goodbye makes room for a hello." (Kristin Armstrong, Author and runner)

Big H is for Hospital

Big H is for Hospital, and they know me oh-so-well here!

At this moment, I'm at Johns Hopkins, hooked up to an IV for a 3-hour infusion of life saving medicine into my body. This might sound dramatic, but I do it every 8 weeks to keep my immune system from eating itself. I have an auto-immune disease called Takayasu's arteritis. Basically, my immune system thinks my large and small arteries are bad, so it actively tries to destroy my large and small arteries. (That's bad, FYI.)

Without medicine, my blood pressure goes up as my arteries become inflamed. All this internal pressure leads to poor circulation throughout the body, less oxygen and nutrients circulating, and increased stress on the arteries. The decreased circulation means I heal super slow, more tired than the average 20-something, and am much more clumsy. Which is a great combo: I clumsily run into things, and then it takes forever to heal from the bruises I get! Under all that pressure, these arteries balloon out in places to attempt let the pressure out. This is how I got the (very life-threatening) aortic aneurysm. Or at least this is my 5¢ understanding and summary of the medical factors at play.

But thankfully, I have medicine! We (and by we I mean my team of doctors) usually have to tweak the medicinal cocktail from time to time to suppress my immune system. The heavy hitter is this infusion I'm getting now. Thank you Jesus for health insurance!! Without health insurance, this treatment would kill me - or at least my pocket book. This medicine is about $9,000 a treatment. At 6 times a year, this treatment alone would come to $54,000 annually. That's more than I make before you even take out taxes, and that's not including all my other medical treatments.

Aside from coming to the hospital every other month, I take a slew of medicine and supplements every morning:

• Coreg CR for blood pressure (ugh, and it's about $50 a month)
  
• Prednisone for inflammation and immune suppression
  
• Cellcept also for immune suppression
  
• Asprin as a blood thinner and for pain
  
• iron, folic acid, calcium, potassium (all the medicine drains these out of my system, so I have to actively replace them.)
  
• 2-3 Emergen-C packets a day to restore electrolytes. I've found out since this summer and spring this makes a HUGE difference in my lymphatic return (big word for circulating fluids throughout your system).
  

So this is why when I get headaches I worry that I have a brain aneurysm. Or why when my heart starts to thump too hard I worry that it's exploding. Or why when I see a bump on my skin I think I've got cancer.

I'm not normal. But I like it that way. My health keeps me humble.

Duh. Or D'oh?

My positive and determined outlook did not last as long as I'd hoped. I made it 4 hours (into my 12-hour work day) before melting down again. I'm not even sure now why I keep melting/breaking down. Maybe I got my expectations raised too high with this promotion - and I'm still being treated like the intern. I confess I yet again indulged in a fair amount of self pity. (Oddly enough, I am very productive when I am so pitiful!)

I went outside to run some lunchtime errands (and by run I mean walk, and by walk I mean limp). It was a pleasant dry brisk day outside...but at least the urge to run off through the hills was tempered every time I stepped with my left foot. Had some time to get away from my computer and think though. I was rattling my brain, "What can I do to fix this? What can I do to mend these relationships?"

Duh. I kept thinking "What can I do" - when I realized I can't do anything. I can't do anything but pray and let Him fix the situation, soften the hearts, open the doors.

I confess my prayer life has been abysmal of late. (And of late, I mean for at least the duration of the summer, and if I'm honest, probably about a year). I felt like a prayer superstar going into surgery last year. Now, I've somehow turned into a person who earns things, instead of remembering they're all freely given. I've turned into a person who relies on human conventions and distractions, and not a person who relies on prayer and hope.

How did I get here? How did I go from that emotional apex and physical trauma to an almost marathoner who's an emotional basketcase? That's probably a much longer post that I'm still figuring out. But I clearly need to be broken again to remember that I rely on God and not myself. Maybe this is the 'D'oh!' part: more brokenness to come.

Is it lame that I thought heart surgery was easier than this? Don't answer that.

Thank you - even for the crappy stuff

I couldn't have had a worse week. Job felt like it was falling apart. My body felt like it was falling apart. Couldn't sleep, couldn't eat. I was beyond frustrated and in general outraged at the perceived injustices I was facing and the unfairness of everything that had been steadily contributing to my growing misery.

I picked up "Mere Christianity" again Friday night, after a really, really, really lame totally awful, depressing, exhausting, soul-crushing day. I opened it up to the first chapter, "The Law of Human Nature." "Everyone has heard people quarreling... [Man] is appealing to some kind of standard of behaviour which he expects the other man to know about." Lewis, the author, goes on to explain how we quarrel over 'unfairness' or 'injustice' - we "try to show that the other man is in the wrong." He ends the first chapter with this direct conclusion: one, that humans everywhere have a concept of how they should behave; and two, that they do not in fact behave the way they think they should. Lewis, in the succeeding chapters, goes on to postulate that this universal sense of Right and Wrong is evidence of God.

Amidst my constant internal litany this week of how unfair work and life were, this first chapter seemed to sum it up. But even inside this awful week, it was evidence of God. No matter how much I had been avoiding Him lately, or felt that He had been avoiding me - He was right here the whole time.

I calmed down over the weekend - which strangely should not have happened. After injuring my foot this week, I attempted an 18-mile long run on Saturday morning anyway. This turned out to be a terrible idea for several reasons. One, between my left foot incapable of completing a toe-off while just walking, and my right knee incapable of going down the stairs, I was a complete mess and should have known better. Two, it was raining, windy, and below 50º out. Three, I was still really upset and stressed, and in no shape to make sound decisions - like turning around in the first half mile.

But this ended up being an opportunity to spend some quality time with my mom, which we both sorely miss. Albeit, this quality time was spent in the ER making sure I didn't have a stress fracture, but it was oddly comforting quality time nonetheless. We've spent so many days in emergency rooms or hospitals and it reminded both of us of how we've supported each other in these situations over the years. Saturday, my foot issue seemed almost pedestrian in comparison (hahahaha foot issue.. pedestrian! Come on, funny, am I right??)

Sunday morning I went with my aunt to her church for the first time - and was totally surprised that I really liked it. I found myself caught on a prayer leading into the worship. "God, thank you for your gifts this week." It reminded me of a clip of Pauley Perrette - and how when she didn't know what else to pray, she'd pray "Forgive me for everything. Thank you for everything." It hit me like a truck - I should be thanking God for my crappy, awful week! Yes, I realize this doesn't make much sense. But clearly He's provided me lessons and opportunities this week. And for sure they were difficult, but equally were they important. I'm not even sure what all the lessons from this past week were, although I'll be continuing to face their consequences for much longer. But I've got to believe the pain I'm suffering now is to spare me from worse in the future. That by putting me through trials, He strengthens and teaches me. I pray that I'll learn.

Rut

I recently re-found this draft from September and had to post:

As much as I've been trying to deny it, this summer has been a dry spell. It sounds funny talking about a dry spell in when my neighborhood is under a foot of water from 4 days of Tropical Storm Lee. But maybe there's something to that: a fish not breathing when he's in the middle of the water is pretty silly.

I was on the treadmill tonight listening to sermons. They were about a year apart, picked totally at random, and yet managed to overlap on theme and verses.

I am more than a person who had to have heart surgery because her disease ate her aorta. I am more than my disease. But I am only these with God. I am just my disease without Him.

Perspective

After almost a year, I'm returning to the Virginia Beach Rock n' Roll half marathon. You might recall, I ran last year's event the weekend before an appointment with my heart surgeon - the appointment he announced I'd have heart surgery.

I clearly remember the night before last year's event staying up until about midnight worrying if my heart would explode the next day. The next morning, I awoke, only nerves guiding me to my pre-race coffee, oatmeal, and banana. Over breakfast at about 5am, I couldn't tear myself away from my bible. I recall reading Hebrews 12:1-3 over and over again:

1 Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. 3 Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

Reading that took away my apprehension, reminded me that if my heart was going to explode, it was His will. If it wasn't going to explode, that would be His will too. If I was going to die (which I sort of thought I might, knowing how big my aortic aneurysm was at this point), at least I was going to die running a half-marathon, and glorifying God.

As Ali (my now-married former roommate, inspiring runner, and in general awesome person) were milling around the race start, I had this odd compulsion. People were going to know I had heart. We wandered around the volunteer desks, seeking a sharpie. I had Ali draw a giant sharpie-heart on my arm, with the word "surgery survivor" overtop the red heart. (At least I think..looking back on finish photos, even the sharpie couldn't withstand my sweat..ewww). It's funny how a badge of honor like that made me take on the race with renewed purpose. I prayed and thanked God the whole way, completely aware that each mile was a gift.

Comparing that experience with this year's couldn't be more different. I've had open-heart surgery, but rebounded and healed impossibly fast. The gift to run and race, when instead my heart should be exploding had now moved on to the gift to survive and thrive. I've fearlessly trained faster, longer, and harder for this year's race, with a longer goal of the Marine Corps Marathon in 8 more weeks. I've started to obsess over training plans, race paces, and race day nutrition when before I would have been happy to just toe the line and finish. I've got a lofty time goal (2:15 is lofty for me, anyways), and I'm endlessly staring at race pace bands.

It's been easy to get caught up in all of these goals and expectations I'm setting for myself. It's been entirely too easy to forget where I've come from in the past year, and how God has indescribably blessed me through this race, successful surgery and healing, and letting me get back on my feet again.

It's interesting to me that going into this race Venus Williams drops out of the US Open citing an auto-immune disease as the culprit. It's a poignant reminder of how fragile our health can be. I've still got my underlying autoimmune disease, and it can be a constant struggle to maintain my energy, stamina, and even optimism. The great days of health and fitness I have are little gifts in and of themselves - I can't bank even on having these.

And despite the heart surgery, despite the autoimmune disease, despite everything else that piles on and stresses me out in life... I run. "I can do all things through Him who gives me strength."

It's my prayer that I have more opportunities to share my testimony this weekend than I can imagine, and that God would use me to lift up and give hope to others.

The little things

Sometimes its not the big things that get in our way or cause us to stumble. It's the little things, and especially the little things piled up that really humble us.

One of the hard lessons I've learned lately is that I'm not unstoppable or completely independent - much as I'd like to pretend that I can do anything by myself. To be reminded of this, it takes me being half-debilitated by a medicine change to admit my vulnerabilities.

Which leads me to my next lessons: 1) if it isn't broken don't fix it (at least when it comes to your health), and 2) you pay what you get for in medicine. Maybe these aren't universal truths. But when I approached my cardiologist two weeks ago asking to change my blood pressure medication, I should have known better. The medication (coreg CR) was working just fine. My only qualm with it was that it was $50 a month; so I asked for something cheaper, something available as a generic. This turned out to be a huge mistake that took away the precarious fine health I enjoyed.

I stopped the coreg on Friday (when I used my last of the old prescription), took nothing Saturday, got the new medication Sunday, then finally took it Monday evening when I came home. That night I didn't sleep - literally stayed awake the entire night - and then attempted to go to work the next day. I should probably add that I ran about 20 miles over the weekend. Tuesday at work I made it about an hour before my body started shutting down, and was a slug the rest of the day. Wednesday did not fare much better, and to worsen the problem, the AC at my rented room/house blew. All these blood pressure changes left me dizzy, nauseous, depressed, tired. Which also did not improve my issues with this rented room; I gave my 30 days notice and stayed at my aunt's house ever since.

There have been many discussions in the midst of all this. I called my cardiologist's office and she's out of town; another doctor approved my request to go back on the coreg. I've had a lot of difficult conversations with myself and others as I was on the forced slow-down. I hope and pray that I've learned something valuable from this and that God will give me my health and energy back. Mostly, that I'll really allow myself to be filled by Him and rely ONLY on Him.