Being an Athlete//Day 16&17

It has been almost a month since I posted. I've been fighting with what seems like even more than normal. I've had a neurostimulator implant in my spine. I've had a rib "pop out" and be popped back in place. I've been sick with my seasonal allergies and colds. I've faced amplified depression. I've been fighting with my mortgage company to get my house eligible for a short sale (because they think I can pay back $11,000+). I've been fighting with disability because they think I'm capable of working, even though I can't read a page without falling asleep and I can't drive more than a mile. 

This post is long, because I combined a few I'd planned in drafts. So stick with me because it makes up for all the lost time. Please and thank you ;)

Day 16: This isn't a famous quote, but it's something I need during this time. My friend, who I used to coach with, wrote this to his(our) team. It is lengthy but it is guaranteed to light a fire in any athlete:

"Ladies,

The mark of a true athlete is not their caliber of play. It's not how fast they run a mile. It's not their skill on a ball, and it's not the number of goals they score in a season. I train athletes; but never would I expect your performance to dictate whether you are an athlete.

No, the mark of an athlete is not physical, but mental. It's a state of mind. It's that calling to press past what you know you can do. It's the itch you get when you haven't played. It's the desire for respect. Respect is something we are currently not being given by other teams in this league. 

We play this game, on this team, for each other. We play for and with one another, but we unite for a common cause. During practice, we battle hard against our teammates to give them the toughest training they can endure, and then when we find opponents, we can outmatch them because of our dedication. To this day, we have yet to show them what we are about. Saturday, this changes. 

I ask only one thing of you against Loch Raven. Earn your respect. Make them fear you. Warm up as a team. Listen to each other. Pump each other up and prepare for your 60 minutes of war. You are playing along side my favorite 18 people, and all of you are capable of fantastic feats when you focus and play as hard as you can. There is no limit to your success, and no boundary to your capacity - but you yourself dictate whether you win or lose.

The mark of an athlete is something that you earn. It is not given. It is not stolen from a trophy room or conceded in a game. You earn it with your attitude. You  earn it with your teammates. 

Bring the heat Saturday. Send a message to this league. Get a strong, commanding win and send those that doubt our team's strength away. Make them suffer. Make them hate playing against you and want to quit. Make them give up. 

Play as a team and there is not a team in our league better. The person on either side of you is your friend, your sister and your teammate. They are your shield and your sword. Bring all of your aggression to the pitch, and prepare to take that team down. You know the tactics; we've  practiced them. You know how to play defense; be strong and hold your ground. You know to play simple; execute it. You know to talk; so speak loudly and with authority.

Play for each other. Play for the win. Play for your respect."

Day 17: I wrote the following in correlation with the email Aaron sent to the Pipeline team. This more than answers the question about how my life would be different. How wouldn't things be different is really the question...because EVERYTHING is different. 

I do not coach presently. I dream and plan to coach again. But I currently am without a team. I also wish to play again. I went from being a D1 prospective goalkeeper to not playing in college to having 8 knee surgeries and finally to happily playing D-back in co-ed adult rec leagues.

I spent nearly 3 years coaching Parkville United. I coached at Parkville High School for 2 full years: 6 seasons & 3 sports in total. And I coached with Pipeline Soccer Club for about 1 season, though the intent was to be there much longer. I hear from my PHS girls all the time, God love them. I've made 4 of their games this season and they still play as the family I taught them to be. They play with heart and character, and their new coach has fallen in love with them just like I did. The girls are some of my biggest cheerleaders when it comes to getting better. And PSC, despite my short time with them, keeps me on the team email list. At first, it made me sad reading team updates, but I've grown to love it. I feel connected in a good way. I still can text or email Aaron to discuss team happenings and offer perspective on girls of that age. Even though I can't be there, it feels like they wish I could, just like I wish I could. I also occasionally get to talk to my former adult league teammates. Some of them I coached with, some of them were just teammates who became friends. Just last week I got to see one of my former teammates -- and one of the few females I've ever easily connected with. They're far away and in a different world than me, but they're all still there.

During my battle with TOS I've struggled in a major way with my identity. Because my health has robbed everything from me, I've stopped knowing who I am. Sometimes when strangers ask what I do for a living I'll answer coaching, rather than explaining I'm disabled. It's just easier; if I say I'm a stay-at-home-housewife people assume we have kids or are trying, and that's also not a conversation I want to accidentally fall into. But the fact is I'm not a coach anymore. I officially haven't been since April 2013. And I haven't played since June of 2012. I managed to coach during my early TOS struggles. Playing was always out of the question. Not just no playing -- no exercising at all.

I have been an athlete forever. It is one of the core foundations of who I am. Or who I thought I was. I have totally stopped feeling like that's who I am and it has resulted in a deep confusion of wondering who I am, if not what I know.

The inevitable question one might have reading that above paragraph is answered by saying, yes I am in therapy. I'm facing it all as best I can. But to answer day 17's question, EVERYTHING WOULD BE DIFFERENT and I would know who I am. 

Physical Therapy, Part 2

After my first PT session, I had a really bad night... As you know. So when I went to PT yesterday I told them about it. I said, "I know my one job while in here is to tell you if ANYTHING hurts, and nothing hurt during last session, but it was very bad after." We had a lengthy talk about it, and how some days I do have a bad day or night, just because. Or maybe the storms agitated it.

My therapist (well, student-therapist) had been planning on doing something slightly different this session, but decided we should do the exact same stuff and see if that caused a bad night again. If it did, we'd know that they needed to find a way to be even gentler, and they're already only doing Grade 1 stuff on me anyways. She said the one thing is if it causes a bad night, but then I feel some relief the next day, that's okay. "Sometimes neuro-mobes cause a slight flare-up, but then it feels better after."

Yeah, no relief today. But another bad night last night. I was up until nearly 3 am. At least this time I had enough sense not to try to tackle the stairs alone. I stayed in bed with my boys, until exhaustion took over and made me pass out. I guess next week in PT we're going to have to dial it back somehow. :(

Oh, and yes I still have all the sinusy/cold-like symptoms. But I'm still trying to avoid my 4th antibiotic in the last 6 weeks. I have to protect whatever miniscule immune system I have.

Days of Rest, Physical Therapy, Sinus-y, and Stairs

The last few days I've been developing a sore throat which keeps getting worse and worse. It has grown to include ear pain, sinus pressure, mucusy congestion, sneezing, and all sorts of other fun symptoms. I regularly take allergy medicine, both a preventative in the morning and Benadryl at night. I'm also fairly certain the monsoon rains have temporarily wiped out all allergens. I'm also on an antibiotic (for other stuff) so I'd like to think I didn't manage to get a sinus infection while on that. Unfortunately a sinus infection is exactly what this feels like. But who gets those in June? Ehh, people with no immune systems I guess. Still, I'm trying to see if this yuck will run it's course, because 3 antibiotics in one month seems like plenty to me. A fourth seems like death to the traces of whatever immune system I have left. So I'm taking my nasal spray and drinking my homemade tea, a blend of eucalyptus and mint. 

Eucalyptus is a decongestant and an expectorant, with natural antibiotic properties. Mint can also relieve congestion in the respiratory tract, so it's useful in treating bronchitis, sore throat, or a cough. It also can be used to reduce a fever. Mint is a soothing herb and can be used to treat headache, backache, and neck pain. So this is my super tea. 

I love that the steam is visible in this picture. Piping hot. 

In other fun news, I fell down the stairs last night. Sometime after 2 am. I wish I could tell you that's uncommon, but it's not. That's why I almost always use Kevin's help to go up and down stairs. And if I'm being "independent" I scoot down on my butt. Or go very slowly, with a death grip on the railing. 

But last night, in the middle of the night, nearing the witching hour, unable to sleep, in pain, for a foggy moment I thought I was a normal person and approached the stairs as such. Luckily for me and tragically for him, Kevin is a light sleeper. He woke when he felt me get out of bed. I can only assume he figured I was going to the bathroom and didn't think twice about it. Until he heard some thuds and crashing sounds. Then he came running --yes, because he's a normal person he can RUN down stairs and be okay-- to my aid. He tended to me, asking what hurt and hugging me. I cried, half out of pain and half out of frustration. 

After making sure I was okay, Kevin asked me what I needed so badly from downstairs. I told him an ice pack. I've been in extra pain since Thursday, because of starting Physical Therapy, and my session earlier in the day was responsible for keeping me up at night. So he got me an ice pack and took me upstairs. 

As is typical for us, I profusely apologized and thanked him, feeling terrible he has to deal with such events regularly. And he told me I had nothing to apologize for, he loves me and it's not my fault. 

This is a concept I'm still working on learning. I'm in the process of embracing this lesson. 

As I'm writing this blog, my little monster is staring me down and whining and whimpering. We JUST went outside so he could go potty, and he got a treat when we came in, so I'm not sure what he wants, other than for me to stare back. 

Anyways, back on track... Physical Therapy. I started Thursday and it was hellish. Day 1 of PT is always an evaluation to document where your body is when you begin treatment: range of motion, pain scale, severity of symptoms. So they did all the painful stuff my doctors do, and then some more. They warned me I'd have a rough few days following, and they were right. It certainly caused a flare up. 

The good thing was they can feel just how bad I am. It's not me saying I'm in this much pain, they can literally feel it when they touch my body and move my neck and/or arm. I can't begin to explain how validating that is. There are definitely days when people with a chronic illness (or maybe it's just me) feel like they must be crazy, like it must be in our heads. But then you see a doctor who diagnoses and evaluates based on touch rather than listening to your description or looking at X-rays and your nightmare is confirmed to be real, and really that severe.

They really can and did confirm I have TOS, still, just as bad as I did pre-op, and if anything I have more symptoms from removing the muscle. Not TOS symptoms, but pain in my neck. Apparently the middle scalene (the muscle I had removed) is partially responsible for the movements of the cervical spine. Meaning, for the last 2 months my spine hasn't been moving the way it used to, thus causing extra pain. 

Because I am so "pain dominant" and have this particular diagnosis, the protocol they follow with me will be remarkably slow and subtle. They said this isn't a condition they tackle with a "no pain, no gain" approach. Most of my session involves laying there and having specific nerves gently manipulated by the therapist. They've instructed me to tell them if it hurts, even ever so slightly. Everything (except that initial eval) should cause me no pain or feel slightly better. 

Yesterday's maneuvers didn't hurt while I was there, but apparently they did aggitate me. Remember, I fell down the stairs trying to get an ice pack for the pain. I can't even begin to describe how...nothing these maneuvers are. I mean, one is literally wiggling my pinky finger. Yet the therapist tells me they can feel my body resist and tense up, if they move a smidge past the gentlest pressure and angle. It makes me feel slightly pathetic, but like I said, it's also incredibly validating to know the hell I've been going through is 100% real and I'm not crazy. They also can feel that my top rib on the left side is at least a thumb widths higher than on the right side. So that's definitely part of the problem. They are optimistic that they can help and said just because it's that bad doesn't mean I definitely need it removed. 

My therapist is very knowledgeable in both TOS and CFIDS, so I feel like I'm in capable hands. It'll be slow work, but if anybody can help me to avoid having my rib removed, I believe it's the people at this practice (Fusion Physical Therapy). Because the top left rib is so high, if they can help, I'll have a life of maintenance ahead of me -- it won't be a few months of PT and then I'm cured. But hopefully I'll get to a point where I can function on that maintenance program. 

Partly because of PT, the last few days have been a lot for me. Like I said, I started with my hell-eval on Thursday. On Friday I had a rough doctor's appointment that also exhausted me and drained all the energy from my body. Kevin is going through a lot with the end-of-school-year hustle and bustle, so he had no complaints about just resting Friday afternoon/evening and all day Saturday. We made pancakes for brunch both days, but besides that really laid around doing nothing, just relaxing. We both needed it, but even that wasnt enough for me. 

Sunday was Froehlich Family Day at Nationals Park (for the early game). Once a year, my father-in-law treats everyone to a game together as a family. Tickets, food, and drinks are all on him. He and my MIL have club level season tickets, but for this game we were all together in section 126, just off the first base line in foul territory. My brother-in-law and his wife came and brought our nieces too. It was really great family time, but a very hard day for me. It was sweltering hot, and some of my meds make me hot anyways. Plus being run down from Thursday and Friday. Plus my medicine that makes me sun-sensitive. I spent 2 innings up near the food shops, just to get a break from the sun, but I did manage to last the whole game. 

That's it for my updates. But before I end, I want to tell you why Blaze was staring and whining earlier. He didn't stop, so I finally went over to him because sometimes if you do that he'll lead you to what he wants. So he took me to the stairs to go to the basement to get our back, paused, then took me to the front door, indicating he wanted a walk. I told him we had to wait for his daddy to get home from work, for our afternoon family walk, but that we could go out back again. I figured I must've unknowingly rushed him and he needed to poo. So I took him out back --again-- and sat on the HVAC fan to stay out of his way. He sniffed and explored and seemed quite leisurely. Not needing to poop. He settled himself down on the slab out back and laid down to sunbathe. He had always loved laying out in the sun, and it's a gorgeous day. I tried to go inside and sit just inside the door, since I'm sun sensitive, but he followed me inside. So we compromised. I opened the living room curtains and window and put some pillows under him so he could lounge on the top of the couch, as he has always liked to do. He thinks he's a cat. The compromise sufficed. He was happy to get sunshine and fresh air, and I was happy for peace and quiet.