This time last week I was discharged from hospital following stage one of the fix my back surgeries and it really was as life changing as the accident that caused it.
When I got wheeled in Mr Marsh was chatting to one of the team, asked me how I was feeling and said “ this is the last time you’ll feel that pain, right I better scrub in”. The nurses started to put in the cannulas while the anesthesiologist made good on the relaxing small talk and while I was happy to hear Mr Marsh’s joyful prediction that little voice in the back of my head did say ” yes whatever “.
Five hours of digging around later and I’m back in the room, I don’t really remember much, I was very in and out but the staff at Guy’s Hospital and all the team were brilliant.
The main aim was to do the discectomy and get out as many fragments as possible causing as little damage as possible. The result was instant for pain and the crippling spasms but beyond that there’s the secondary benefits, I’ve re-discovered my pelvic floor and no wee has escaped without permission since the operation, my posture has returned not just because of the return of my spine to where it should be but my core engagement.
My core isn’t what it was, eight months is a long time not to do anything much.
Walking is odd, I’ve been scrunched and pained for so long and not really able to feel my right foot and when I can feel it, it’s been in a painful muscle ripping cramp, those same muscles that used to cramp now have to get used to walking again and it’s painful, my right leg is almost half an inch shorter than my left. My lower glutes and upper hams very painful.
The only pain I have is as you’d expect from surgical pain, just that numb stiffness of recovery and I have a list of designated exercises, the most stressing of which is knee raises but at this point it’s all about stability. It would be easy to think that I’m good enough to ride and the other day is so beautiful that I did catch myself having a cheeky thought.
I have a muffin top, I can’t remember the last time I had a muffin top and i passed comment on Instagram that it’s symbolic of the death of my 4.1W/k
I can’t ride for three months and I’m not going to ignore the doctors, if there’s once in my life I should listen, this is it. Physical therapy starts on the 25th of April.
Most of the way through this rather painful episode I’ve said that I would still have a go at the record, the good thing is I can stop just saying that in a way you do when you try to convince yourself of something and look forward to training for it.
I have ice cream in the fridge.