Humps and Holes

Text from one of my oldest mates (and who luckily does not access internet much), in response to news of my injuries:

time 2 let the air out of those tyres, not enough reward 4 effort. Stick 2 journalism.

Oh, if ONLY I was a journalist!!

This week marked the half way point for the post surgery sling time. Three weeks down, three weeks left. Hump Week.

I was going to post to mark the occasion but the internet has been slow and unmotivated, verging on pathetically slothful on some days, and on others with a bit more energy to slowly complete the simplest of tasks.

I can't find a reason for the behaviour of the computer's internet connection, but it only just dawned on me that it is probably doing it out of sympathy. Because I can totally understand its motivation and sense of self.

Have been digging myself into, and sometimes out, of a few Holes.

I can bravely admit days of getting up, finding life too hard, and then going back to bed.

But I have been positive. At times.

I arranged to have my legs waxed - which had been over six weeks (had them done the week before the crash) - and the pain from the appointment brought me right back to Tulsa for a few seconds before fading.

I also arranged to have my hair cut. This is a very momentus event for me. I average two haircuts a year. But the past few years I have been trying to up the average a bit. I was due to get my haircut shortly after I arrived in the States, but new place, no connections, length of time to organise anything, etc etc meant that suddenly I was broken and in a sling and not really thinking about haircuts. So, I was well overdue for one.

I went in and asked for my usual: short enough so I can barely tie it back low to keep under the helmet. Except this time, I said they could go shorter. It'll be at least a few weeks before I'll be wearing a helmet. I also pointed out that I cannot do my hair and I would really like something low maintenance and that I can leave it untied yet not looking horrendous.

The woman listened to everything, paid me a lot of sympathy, and then proceeded to trim my hair and not take on board anything I had asked her to do.

I now have a trim that needs to be tied up and maintained because it is all thinned out and looking like shit. I went home and cried. And then went back to bed.

Going to bed is a better option than my alternative: eating chocolate. But I have still managed to fit a lot of this activity in. In fact, too much. It provides such comfort, and leaves such guilt, that I am forced to do it all again.

Simple, small things crack me. Which is lucky that I don't have complicated big things going on right now.

I get a lot of joy from correspondence from friends - even the negative remarks - and am so grateful for those who continue to keep in touch. On bad days, some of these conversations and simple messages have dug me out of some bad bad Holes. Thank you for putting me back on my feet.

Yes, things could be worse. I know this. But it doesn't stop me from feeling like crap at times.

Another friend reminded me of multiple impacts of trauma: the initial injury (crash), the subsequent trauma (surgery), and the other trauma: the loss of exercise from every day life.

From exercising every day, sometimes very well, other times not so well, to a very sudden stop. Two weeks without exercise, three weeks, then four. I was going crazy.

So too were my blood sugar levels.

In the two weeks after the crash and before surgery, my levels were pretty good. Not fantastic, but okay. I couldn't explain it. I put it down to the impacts of the crash meant that my body was working overload to repair and seek balance in itself, which was taxing on my blood sugar. This kept my levels in range despite the lack of exercise. I also think that maybe the strong pain meds might have helped, but no one can confirm this theory.

Following surgery, I had to wean myself off all pain meds in order to restore normality with my bowels. Since then my levels have been high, high, high all the time. Insulin resistance was kicking in hard, and I was topping up my OmniPod insulin with extra shots of Apidra through the SolaStar pen. Total Daily Doses of pre crash and pre surgery average around 35 units per day. Post surgery and post pain med dependence, they shot up to over 60 units per day. I can't do a basal/bolus split because I was having so many correctional boluses, thanks largely to an undersupply of non-adjusted basal needs. (The D people will understand this tech talk.)

So, 12 days after surgery I was a bit fed up with all this insulin neediness, and the fact that I couldn't have an OmniPod last the full three days due to running out of insulin. That has never happened before! Such insulin needs were crazy, and frustrating. Being high all the time kept me unmotivated to do any sort of activity.

But deep down I knew I needed to do something. Years ago an endo once told me, You are one of those people who has to exercise every day, for the rest of your life! The reason this message was told to me was because insulin resistance shoots up when you don't exercise. At the time, it was impacting my life very badly. Back then the comment had a life changing effect on me, and brought me along the path that eventually led to racing Pro in the US with Team Type 1.

So it was time to get back on the Horse. My bike.

Unfortunately the bike was still packed up from the travel home from the US. I had to sweetly ask Ewin to put it together for me after work one night.

Once together and on the trainer, I felt like I had made a huge step forward. But the thought of getting on the bike was too much. It was too scary for my back and my shoulder, and I didn't want to get on and find out it would be impossible. So I sat and looked at it for a whole day. All the time while pumping in extra insulin to try to control my out of control levels.

This ridiculous situation was sorted the following day, with the help of Mum who said, 'C'mon, five minutes on the bike. Thats all you have to do.'

I went Pro for my first ride back and wore correct attire.

It was surprisingly okay. I could sit upright, and pedal my legs. They felt all jelly like and wobbly, but that didn't stop them from turning around. The action was rough and rugged. No one noticed. I ignored it myself. I was finally on the bike!

There were a few suggestions about leaning on a swiss/fit ball, but this hurt my back and seemed really dumb. Plus my knees kept kicking it. So I got rid of it, and just sat upright the entire time.

Mum went about doing stuff and lost track of time. I decided to add another ten minutes onto the session, and proudly completed 15minutes. A mental breakthrough of epic proportions. I can't describe the feeling of being back on the bike again after such a long time. From everything I felt, the sense of relief was the most dominant. I CAN STILL RIDE MY BIKE!

Since the breakthrough I have been back on the bike on and off, for most days. My back has started to ache a lot more, so I took the weekend off. On another day my emotional state went sour, so I took that day off too. But I am back on the bike. It is true. And it is great!

The best thing of all is that the return to activity has had an immediate impact on my blood glucose levels and my insulin needs. No more correctional boluses, and overall much less insulin. At my last OmniPod change, I had left over insulin after the full three days! Hurrah!!

I have a long way to go still. I can't hold onto the handlebars, and extended time sitting upright on the bike hurts my tailbone.

My insulin resistance could be further reduced, but I hope this will happen as I get fitter and stronger. I am also hoping this will help me sleep better at night, knowing my body has had a good workout during the day.

I still eat chocolate, and still feel down at times. Sometimes more than others. But I am being, and doing, and finding that I can start to set some realistic goals for the future. They need to be set for a long way away, but they can still be set and I can still work towards them.

The surgery bandage was removed last week and a brief glimpse of the scar could be seen. We've since covered it uip again until we see the surgeon next week.

And being able to sit on the trainer is made all the more pleasant thanks to the month of July. Time flies when you are watching the Tour de France (and have managed to avoid the results of the previous evening and as such are watching it pretend live!)

Time to let the air out of the tyres?

Pass me the pump. I've got work to do.