A Pleasant Surprise

Last evening I went to my local Barnes and Noble for a few other reasons. I walk in and discover a writer's reading and signing going on. Not paying a whole lot of attention I then hear her talking about her experience with cancer and being a patient at Mayo Clinic. So I stop and listen, intrigued by her presentation and reading.

I then realize the author is Eve Ensler, award winning writer, activist, and speaker, author of The Vagina Monologues. She has a new book just out, In the Body of the World, which was why she was here and reading. Among other things it tells of her discovery of, surgery for, and recovery from cancer.

Wow, was it great!

She talked about her Mayo Clinic doctor (who was in the audience), and while choking up, described how he treated her as an individual, a real person.

She described how a friend gave her a whole new way to see chemotherapy as a friend- a warrior on her side- which changed her entire approach to her treatment.

She brought down the house in laughter and tears as she talked about the worker who, following another surgery, helped her to get back nto functioning.

I was impressed, and grateful that I just happened to walk in at that time. I will be getting the book.

Recuperation Ended (Mostly): Part 3

-----Not quite this yet

but approaching this ------

Well, mostly free. I am now officially  weaning off the collar after 12 weeks under wraps. (The process is to take ANOTHER 9 weeks. Bah humbug!) Twelve weeks ago today I had my anterior cervical corpectomy with fusion. I have been a good and obedient patient. I have worn the collar as instructed. (Alright- I loosened it once in a while, but I had permission to do that if I was just sitting and watching TV.)

I have learned patience and how much we move our heads on our necks. I have learned to be a (very slightly) better passenger in a car driven by my wife. I have learned that people are concerned when they see the collar and usually express concern that it wasn't caused by an accident. I have learned how many people have actually had to wear one of these things.

But the greater lessons actually came from the time of surgery and early recovery when things I had taken for granted were not as easy as they used to be. Swallowing- food or water- became a chore and at times even a slight sense of fear. Speaking clearly was a joke. Surgery is a major trauma to the system and I wonder how much two surgeries between August 15 and December 29 affected me in ways beyond my understanding.

I also learned a little bit about aging. Okay, maybe a great deal of bits. One morning in the hospital, probably on my second day- about 24 hours after surgery- I was being walked into the hall by a nurse. I was pulling my IV pole while the nurse held my other arm. I glanced over as we passed a mirror and was shocked by the "old" guy in the mirror. I felt every bit of my 63 years. And I think I looked it, too. Ragged around the edges, slightly slumped over, neck in a brace.

It reminded me again of the fragility of life. We never know what's ahead, regardless of what age we are. Back at the start of 2011 I would never have even considered that I would be having two surgeries by the end of the year. It reminded me that as we age the options can change rather quickly. Our health can flip in no time. It also became clear that time does get shorter. This is something I have been wrestling with but that "old" guy in the mirror brought it into focus.

Chances are I have 2-4 more years of doing what I am doing now. Sure there may be more- and I plan on it- but I have to be realistic. Which brought it all home- I want these years to be fun, meaningful, and filled with hope and joy, and love in whatever ways I can give and receive that. I want my work to be fulfilling to me and those I work with. I want to enjoy life. The old, cynical, whiner can get in the way of that, I know.

There are bicycle trails to ride; rivers to walk along; people to visit; sights to see, baseball games to go to. I would love to do the Camino de Santiago de Compostela in Spain- at least 300 km by bike for retirement. And books- wow- so little time for so many books. Not to mention taking pictures and writing and well, living.

What a joy. I'll keep you posted. After all, if Peyton Manning can go back to football after the same surgery, think what I can do if 300 pound defensive ends aren't trying to tackle me.

Truth is True

A quote from John Muir:

Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul alike.

It took me back 50 years to the scripture lesson on a Sabbath in August 1961. It was from Deuteronomy 8: 2-3:

Remember the long way that the Lord your God has led you these forty years in the wilderness, in order to humble you, testing you to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commandments. He humbled you by letting you hunger, then by feeding you with manna, with which neither you nor your ancestors were acquainted, in order to make you understand that one does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord. (NRSV)

I can't say it's been a Watchword, but it never seems to be far away from my awareness. Recently, for example, a term coined by Richard Louv in his 2005 book Last Child in the Woods, "Nature Deficit Disorder" came into awareness. Originally it was about children (No Child Left Inside) but has since been expanded to all where people don't get out and get into the natural world as often as needed in Louv's book The Nature Principle.

Those words that come from the mouth of God? You can- and will- hear them out there in the wilderness, even the tame wilderness near most of our homes. That natural world is speaking loudly and clearly to those who will stop and listen.

Last winter I decided that I could not manage another whole winter without the healing and hope from the natural world.  So I bought snowshoes and used them until we went south for a few weeks where I rode my bike and did lots of walking.  This winter I had surgery and went south for four weeks. No bike riding, but plenty of walking and sitting listening to the endless sound of the surf. I won't go so far as to say that is why I have healed so well so far from the surgery, but I'm not about to deny its strength in moving me back to health.

Not by bread alone? Not on your life. As Muir noted, we need the healing that goes far beyond food; the hope that goes deeper than today's experiences. Sustenance is for body, mind, and soul.

Recuperation Ended (Mostly): Part 2

Well, maybe not entirely. The main purpose of my recuperation had nothing to do with regaining strength or getting past any pain. I have had no trouble regaining any strength I lost- just keep walking was the key to that. As for the pain, I have already mentioned that I didn't need any prescription pain meds only 18 hours after surgery. The recuperation of the tongue numbness and swallowing issues simply needed time. Yes, all these are important, essential, but there is one more that takes longer than those.

The main, A#1 purpose of recuperation after my surgery was to give the internal fusing of bone and bone the opportunity to occur. When they work on such a relatively large area covering more than a couple vertebrae they want to make sure that all is right. So do I. If I am going to regain my fitness and ability to do the things I was doing (or even more) I need to continue to be cautious.

Well, if this sounds like a rationalization of why I am willing to accept the need to wear the hard collar 24/7 for another 4+ weeks, you can read quite well between the lines. Yes, I went to the medical professionals on Friday and they were well-pleased with what has been healing. yes, I can go back to work tomorrow with no restrictions.

But, no, I cannot get out of the collar yet.

So it goes.

Fortunately the collar is not as bothersome as it was at first. In fact when I take it off to shave or switch to the one I wear in the shower, the fear of doing something wrong keeps me moving slowly. I almost look forward to putting it back on. It has become a security net. Fine by me.

I can't really drive, though, since I can't see right or left without turning my whole body and I have been reliant on my wife for being my chauffeur. Talk about someone deserving of a medal of honor- that's her. I have tried playing my trumpet and it seems to be a strong possibility that this will be okay, though most likely not in time for a concert in March.

So, here is where I am today. Stuck in the collar for 4 1/2 weeks. Going back to work. Feeling really good about what has been happening. I have been scribbling notes in my journal about what I have learned from this and will get to that one of these days. Lots of support has come my way and for that I am grateful, including good ideas from Terry and John who both went through this in the past few years. Great advice, greatly appreciated!

So on I go. It's supposed to snow tomorrow evening. But I think the possibilities of snowshoeing this winter are next to none. It will next be back on the stationary bike and elliptical to prepare for spring biking. Then who knows what. Twins baseball; fun outdoors; more reading. Always a lot to look forward to.

Far From My Original Thought

“When one door closes, another opens, but often we look so long at he closed door that we do not see the one that has opened for us”. – Helen Keller

It is a quote I have heard often, or at least the first part of it about the closing and opening doors. But I am not sure I have ever heard the last half. And that is where I run into trouble.

Either out of nostalgia, grief, or a dozen other things, I keep wanting to look back. I know I have talked about this part of human nature. You know- the Good Old Days. I have talked about how they were neither good or old. In fact they probably weren't real either. At least not the way we like to remember them, anyway. (A good example might be the way politicians will "remember" their own past statements and successes in a way that doesn't reflect anyone's reality.)

With surgery the other week I have had to face a couple things that are changing. At least from a physical standpoint. I cannot do what I used to do. End of statement. Some of it may only be temporary, but some may last forever. For today I have to take it easy so my surgery can heal. But we learned a couple weeks ago that it is probably NOT a good idea for me to have a backpack when I travel that is loaded down with electronic equipment. That is not good for the back and neck.

So I finally had to agree with my wife that I need to do something different about carrying the laptop and cameras when I travel. Like a bag with wheels instead of the old faithful backpack. But I like the backpack. It keeps my hands free. It gives me a sense of wandering. It helps me continue to think I am young.

All that was the looking at the closed door. It didn't work- and shouldn't. Why not give in and allow a new way of thinking to emerge?

Helen Keller said it best. We cannot look to the open door as long as we mourn the closed one. Or try to recreate it or pretend it is still open. Move on! Live!

Or perhaps more eloquently from Albert Einstein:

“Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow.”

Half-Way Through

Today I am half-way through my medical leave for my surgery back on December 29. That "anterior cervical corpectomy with fusion" that I have talked about. Four weeks from tomorrow I will be back at work. How time flies when you are having fun.

But I have learned a lot and am aware of how far I still need to go. While I feel like I am back to my old self (not necessarily a good thing), I find out in small ways that I am not yet. Since the major reason for such a long recuperation is the need to keep my cervical spine from too much stress and strain, that means that the rest of my body and soul seems to be doing just fine, thank you. But in full awareness of "holistic" views of health, and the bio-psycho-social aspect of life, I also know that to say I am fine is to be fooled by the surface.

[Start of whine.] There are, for example, the little things that still aren't "healed." I am still having problems swallowing and things can get stuck on the way down causing embarrassing coughing to keep it clear. I still have to do a "clearing the throat action" anytime I swallow any regular liquids. (Thick stuff like yogurt goes easier.) That makes eating a meal somewhat of a chore. Even taking a shower- switching to the waterproof collar, being cautious when I shave (electric razor) to keep my head steady, seeming to take longer than usual- is work.

I can get tired enough for a nap at a moment's notice, depending on how well I was able to sleep (and ignore) the hard collar I am still wearing. I am able, easily, to get out and walk, although I hit a wall more quickly than I used to. I need to work on that stamina issue.

Then there is the psycho-social of being obviously "handicapped" with the collar. People look at me with a sympathy that sometimes says, "I know your pain" and sometimes "Poor old guy." It helps in some situations, like at the airport, but generally puts an unwanted spotlight on me. Yes, people are nice and I like that, but it sure is not what I want for this reason.

So here I am, in recuperation. [End of whine.] That means I have to be willing to let other people support and help me. I have to be humble enough to admit that my timeline for healing is not my body's timeline or need. I need to learn to be a passenger at times, and not just when accepting the fact that my wife can drive quite well, thank you, without my passenger seat supervision. I am as much a passenger in recovery. What my body needs to bring about the healing of body, mind and soul after surgery is often beyond my ability to do anything but go along for the ride.

Why is it I have to keep learning this lesson? Why can't I do this more naturally?

Oh, yeah. I forgot.

I'm human.

Over a Week

As I write this it is just a little bit more than a week since I have come home from the hospital following my surgery. I talked yesterday about the (lack of) patience I have been practicing and the other day about the labor-intensiveness of life post-op. I guess what is most interesting is how this is so different today from the way these same surgeries were handled even just a few decades ago.

Bed rest! Don't get in a car for a month. Lie down, don't just sit down. Full disability for 6 weeks- i.e. DO NOTHING!

That was the way it was explained to my wife and myself when SHE had a similar surgery back in the early part of 1980. Just about 32 years ago shouldn't sound like the dark ages of modern medical care, but it does. From the length of stay in the hospital (my 4 nights was that long only because of some extra time under anesthesia) to get up and move ASAP and just about all in-between, things are different today.

Of course what hasn't changed is the fact that the body does take time to heal. That's why I find myself needing to take a nap even several times a day. I find myself getting up after a full night's sleep and then.... zap.... back to sleep in the chair two hours or so later. That's why after an hour out of the apartment doing some walking and sure enough.... zap.... back to the chair for some zombie-land time.

But I can't (and shouldn't) complain. It has been smooth with frustration only the result of the normal, everyday fact that in spite of my opinions, I am only human (and a 63-year old human at that.

Ups and Downs

I have always known from visiting church members following surgery that there are good days and bad days- and they usually follow each other in fairly consistent fashion. Of course in those days, not all that long ago, actually, those were days in the hospital. Not many people were discharged within 2 or 3 days.

Well, my experience with this latest surgery is the same, except now I am going through these changes at home. One day I seem to have enough energy to do just about anything I want. The next, well, the energy can hardly get me to move from one chair to another. Add to that the fact that overall I am feeling fairly decent, and you have a bit of a quandary.

Okay, I'll be honest, there is no quandary. It's back to the old issue of having patience. Simple, everyday acceptance of the way things are that I am not able to change today. Yes, this sounds like a broken record. Any long-time visitors to this blog know my problem. I am not good at just sitting. Yet sometimes that I what needs to be done.

• It is accepting the fact that 3-4 hours of surgery under general anesthesia is a physical trauma to the system.
• It is accepting the fact that I have tongue and throat numbness that impacts my swallowing, eating, and speaking.
• It is accepting the fact that I DO have to wear this hard collar which IS giving me pain in the neck that the surgery didn't.
• And finally it is simply accepting the fact that no matter what I would like to do, it won't help unless I behave and listen to the Doctor.

Sounds so simple. ut that would appear to me at this moment as the way to healing. Let my body do its healing and don't get in the way. At least I still have the computer to do some surfing, books and movies galore, food, and a comfortable bed. Back to basics.

Start The New Year With Soul

One of the emails I subscribe to is from a recovery-based site called In The Rooms. On Sunday last week, Jan 1, as I was recuperating in the hospital and feeling sorry for myself, I got the following. It named what had happened the evening before and I am sure had a lot to do with the improvements in that day. I saw SOUL on New Year's Eve and Day.

Seeing Soul

Today I will see soul in the ordinary. Wishing, waiting and hoping for soul to be hand-delivered to me, tied up in a neat little ribbon, and read to me like a report will not bring me closer to my soul experience. I will discover soul in my day, I will allow it to surface and recognize it when it does. Soul is everywhere waiting for me to see it. I will cultivate this seeing as part of my personal discipline - looking past the surface, staying with what surrounds me until I feel it gently transform, become deeper, luminous, extraordinary. When I learn to really see soul in the ordinary, it will present itself to me. It will show me its true radiance. I will see what I have not seen and be surrounded by soul.

I will learn to see soul.

Labor-Intensive Life

One of the things I have found out post-op is that things that used to be easy take extra time.

Like swallowing.

Thanks to the way this surgery is done (anterior cervical corpectomy, remember?) I have had numbness on the left side of my tongue and throat. Along with the natural swelling that occurs following anything like surgery. As a result, well, I'm Mr. Numb Tongue. If i take too big a swallow of a too thin liquid I can start to choke.

Therefore it takes longer to drink a glass of tea. Hours, in fact. Or eat. S-l-o-w-l-y. Which for any who know me is like saying do the impossible.

But at least all appears to be moving in the right direction. It has been a full week now. In fact as I write this it is almost exactly the same time today as it was last Thursday when I started the gurney journey into the OR. The surgery itself was a little more involved than originally thought- more arthritis in some of the spinal area that required a little more scraping. But if today my biggest issue that life takes longer, let's go for it.

Anterior Cervical Corpectomy

...with fusion.

I kept thinking they were trying to con-fuse me. Over and over last Thursday they kept asking me what I was having done. I kept telling them:

Anterior Cervical Corpectomy with fusion.

Right. They kept telling me.

So why keep asking me?

Actually I knew why and it had nothing to do with my cognitive ability although we did kid about that just before they started the anesthesia.

It's all about safety and making sure you are doing the right thing with the right patient. For that I was grateful that they were double checking and that I had the ability to remember

Anterior Cervical Corpectomy with fusion.

In case you are wondering, this is what it means:

When the cervical disease encompasses more than just the disc space, the spine surgeon may recommend removal of the vertebral body as well as the disc spaces at either end to completely decompress the cervical canal.

This procedure, a cervical corpectomy, is often done for multi-level cervical stenosis with spinal cord compression caused by bone spur (osteophytes) growth.
--Spine Health

It is "anterior" because they go in the front- and the fusion is to close up the space caused by the corpectomy.

All clear?

Back to Work

Well, after a little more than three weeks off on medical leave for a back surgery, it was back to work today. Over the last three weeks I

• Started and finished seven books
• Finished three other books that were hanging around
• Took naps almost every day
• Walked at least 15 minutes every day (usually 20-25) for most of the last 2+ weeks
• Didn't watch any movies I had planned on catching up with
• Sat on the balcony and read and took pictures of Eagles and Herons
• Have maintained my weight-loss regimen and did not gain any of the 20 pounds back
• Took it easy

The surgery itself, the second of its kind I have had in the past 2 1/2 years went very well. There was more pain than the previous with a day longer stay in the hospital and a day or so longer in using pain meds. But little if any of the previous surgeries difficulties (sleeplessness, for example, and continued pain in the lower back from the surgery) showed up.

I am grateful, as always, for the support of people around me and at work. I am grateful that people prayed for me and sent me cards. I know that a lot of things go into a successful surgery and recuperation and I have been blessed with many of those.

I have learned for myself something I "knew" but didn't really KNOW. When one is in better physical shape, recovery can be easier. I have been on a consistent daily regimen of working out for over a year and a half. I started a physical fitness and diet regime two months prior to surgery. I have no doubt about the positive impact all that had on my recovery these past three weeks.

Healing has many aspects to it. I am convinced that in each of our own lives, we have to be actively involved in our own daily recovery. That's what health and healing is all about. I am convinced that God wants us as partners in our own healing. That may be at the heart of Jesus' question to the man at the pool, "Do you want to be healed?"

While the answer may seem obvious, unless we go along with our healing and God's will, not much can come of it.

So, I am back on the healthy track. More surgery will follow, perhaps no later than this winter on some of the other back issues that are still hanging around. Until then, again, THANKS for all your thoughts and prayers.

Slow- But Sure

It is now 5 days since my back surgery. I am slowly but surely on the right road. This is the first time I have felt able to sit at the computer long enough to do some reflecting, so here goes.

• You don't know what you don't know- and one of the things you don't know is how the future will be different from the past. Just because a prior surgery of similar kind went "easy" doesn't mean the next one will. Fortunately it wasn't bad this time around, just a lot more painful than the previous one. I had to be in the hospital two nights this time, but they also did learn from before and I was more comfortable while still in more pain.
• You don't know what you don't know until you know it. Like, while still under the influence of the pain meds you are not aware that anything is different. To you, you seem somewhat okay. Then you are not on so many pain meds and you realize you have no idea what you are talking about.

It happened on the phone earlier today. I was listening then speaking and found myself saying inane things. Brief statements indicating I was listening, but not able to process much more than the basics. I mentioned this to the person I was talking to and his comment was simply, "You should have heard yourself the other day." I didn't even know it.

At least today I am less foggy enough to know I am in the fog still. (Yes, that makes sense to me at the moment.

• You know what you know as soon as you know it. In this case, the first time they got me up to walk I knew that my legs were better. Yes, I was in pain from the incision, but the weakness in my legs was clearly gone. I could feel the strength there- after all I could do a 30-mile bike ride - I must have some leg strength built up.
• You know what you know as soon as you know it. Like when you have been sitting at the computer desk too long and the strength is beginning to fade.

So, for all the prayers and support- thank you. It is still a ways to go before I'm able to feel normal, but it has certainly been a god start.

Good News From the Surgeon

My surgery was 7 weeks ago today. (That was Ash Wednesday!) I gave up work for part of Lent and church for part. But all is well that ends well.

I saw the surgeon on Monday (day after Easter- appropriate!) He was pleased with how things went. He reminded me that this is an easy surgery and has a good outcome record. When I mentioned the pain that I still get across the lower back where the surgery was he said it wasn't to fix that- just that numbness and tingling that led to sitting down so as not to fall down. (Small things like that can make one look clumsy.)

He was not as pleased as I was with the fact that I had walked home from work last Monday since3 it is about 3/4 mile. Be smart and take it easy, was his message.

But he did say that I can go back to exercising and doing Pilates. Which is great news with the weather beginning to really look like spring and the bicycle calling to me for a ride. I will wait- take it easy- and get ready for a great summer ahead.

In short, all is well. Thanks for all your prayers and support.

Longer Than Expected

The week was longer than expected. No, not in hours, but in what I felt like at the end of the week. For years as a pastor I would make visits to people post-surgery, either in the hospital (in long ago days when they stayed longer) or at home in more serious situations. One of those "Things To Say" at times like that was, "Well, it takes time to recuperate from surgery. Take it easy."

I had people telling me the same thing prior to surgery and then when people would call me to find out how I was doing. Yes, I believed it was true. Yes, I knew it takes time for the body to recover after the trauma of surgery. A lot of things happen to your body in even relatively simple surgeries like mine.

But I was feeling so good. Sure, there were times in those first two weeks that I would get really tired really quickly. But last Monday I knew I was ready to go back to work. I felt good. The pain was minimal. I spend a lot of time sitting at work- either in group or at my desk. My wife took me to the front door of the building and picked me up at the end of the day. I would wonder when a nurse at work would ask with surprise, "You're back to work full days?" Or another would stop by and ask if I was doing okay. Should be a cinch I thought.

In many ways it was. Until last night when I guess all the adrenaline and self-pushing finally came to an end. I was exhausted. It was not a difficult week. There were no more crises than normal. I really enjoyed it. But by last evening I was done. I had no energy. I sat like a blob for a while at the computer then went and did the same in front of the tube. I did some crosswords online.

And went to bed early. On a Friday night.

The moral of the story- pay attention to folk wisdom and the wisdom of experience and observation. Even when you already know it- pay attention. There is probably something to learn, a truth that is more important than facts - or even how you think you feel.

Oh, yes. Also pay attention to yourself and your body. It will tell you when you have hit bottom. Don't fight it. It's not worth it.

Back To Work

Well, I'm almost done with my first week back at work since the surgery three weeks ago yesterday. Amazing how fas they get you back on the mend these days.

It has been a good and relatively easy time. There was some few times at the beginning of the week when my stamina/energy level slipped a bit. But I just sat back, took a breath and rested a moment or so and I got past it. Evenings were a little slow but I didn't start back to band practice on Monday but will probably go tonight.

Pain? not really. Some discomfort and tightness around the muscles of the lower back. I would guess that's still the healing process. I have been walking around and have had none of the symptoms I had before surgery. I am still unwilling to say it is better. Superstition I guess. I just say I continue to be cautiously optimistic.

One of the interesting things going back to work was that I missed working. No, not because I was bored, although there were days and times. But because

a) I like my job
b) I like the people I work with.

I don't see how it would be possible to be that "unstructured" (i.e. with no regular schedule or set of things to do.) For my entire working life there have only been a few times when I didn't look forward to work. Often because of being "underemployed" or mis-employed. I guess retirement can be good- but just sitting around is not my idea of fun. If you enjoy your life's work, who says you need to quit doing it?

Maybe re-arrange it a little or add some flexibility, but that's not where I am today.

So, one more day this week. Then a three-day weekend. (I have Monday off since I work next Saturday.)

I'm glad I had the surgery and the time off. It wasn't as bad as anticipated. But I am even happier that I am now back at work.

Next will be getting back to some of my exercising and then- Spring weather- and bicycling!

Okay- I'm Surprised- and Humbled Again

reflection of the past two weeks since my back surgery.

I admit being incredibly surprised at what has- and hasn't- happened.

• I am far better than I expected to be.
• The pain decreased remarkably.
• The pain was never as bad as expected.
• I was up and moving more than I would have thought possible.
• The return of stamina was slower than I would have believed. All of a sudden I would notice being very tired.

Remember, my only other experience with this was my wife having the same surgery 30 years ago when she spent a week in the hospital and four - six weeks unable to even be in the car.

But perhaps the biggest surprise that shouldn't have been a surprise- the cunning and baffling power of addiction. I have known for all 20 years of my recovery that surgery and the use of narcotic pain medication is always a slippery time even when narcotic addiction has never been present. The brain that has been "hijacked" by addiction, even "just" addiction to alcohol, is always a sitting duck. The inner workings of the brain that have been most affected don't know- and frankly, my dear, don't give a damn- which chemicals are used. If they do something that connects with that part of the brain- you are in dangerland.

That DOES NOT MEAN that you shouldn't use the prescribed medications when you have surgery. To not use them when- and as- prescribed would be foolish and even more dangerous. But they who go into the midst of addictive substances should go well prepared! It is a mental wilderness with wild beasts and things that go bump in the night.

I knew all that. I teach that to others. I understand the whole process from a professional standpoint. But- alas- addiction is a sneaky SOB. One must never, absolutely never, assume that addiction is under control. As the Big Book of AA says, it is only a "daily reprieve" based on my spiritual condition.

Of course spiritual condition includes dealing with the stresses and frustrations of daily life. It includes the ability to have acceptance of things as they are and the wisdom to know what you can and can't change. In the midst of post-surgical fog those things become all mixed up. Even when you "think" you're doing fine- don't bet on it. The brain has this great lack of insight called "denial" that prevents you from making wise decisions even when you think you are right on target.

I see this happen day in and day out in treatment. It is the common denominator of every- no exception- every alcoholic or addict I have ever known, been at 12- Step meetings with, or worked with in treatment. NO EXCEPTIONS! There will always be some form of denial at work. ALWAYS. Denial takes many forms, of course- minimizing, rationalizing, intellectualizing, out and out denial. In one form or another it usually says: "You don't understand. My situation is different."

Every addict and alcoholic on some level often believes they will never go back to using again. They are not like those other addicts who have no will-power. They aren't like those hopeless drunks. "I can handle the situation. I can say no. My will is strong." Unfortunately the point of having to say "No!" often sneaks in like a thief in the night. It is the end of a longer process (known as relapse process) that begins long before the actual relapse.

Okay- I'll stop beating around the bush. I am pmPilgrim and I am an alcoholic and addict. Regular readers knew that. But I was blind-sided again by old Slick over there on the shoulder.

I entered this whole surgery with all the awareness and knowledge that I have already talked about. Narcotics, legal or otherwise, were never my issue. I made clear to my doctor ahead of time that I am in recovery. He agreed that there was no way I would get any refills of any narcotics. In fact, I was pleased when the hospital did not have enough to even give me a full prescription. I only took it as often as prescribed for two days and then cut back. After four days I was off them entirely with left-overs to throw away. Which I have done.

But I forgot that recovery is being able to deal with life on life's terms. Recovery is acceptance of things the way they are. And even four days of narcotic use, even less than prescribed, can upset that whole apple cart. And you don't even know it because your brain is busy at work playing games with you and itself.

You see I was having trouble sleeping. Lots of reasons- pain, discomfort, the whole disruption of my normal life patterns, sleeping on and off all day. So four days after I stopped the narcotics I didn't realize that I was being played with by my own brain.

Frustration levels increased. I was becoming more and more irritable. Restlessness and discontent were at work. If only I could sleep everything would be okay. If only I could get a good night's sleep. Obsession began to sink in.

By day 5 post pain pills I began to dread going to bed.

Then I thought about taking an over-the-counter sleep aid. Something I hadn't done in 20+ years. I talked it over with my wife, briefly, and then said no, I haven't done it in 20 years.

But that was not what the hijacked brain wanted to hear. It was another bad night. I realized in the middle of the night that this felt like addiction at work, but "successfully" set that thought aside.

Day 6 was even worse. I made up my mind. Tonight I will take one of those OTC meds. Just get a good night's sleep and it will be all right after that. In the back of my head was the thought, "But what if I need it again the next night?" But I let that slip away. As it got closer to bed time I knew it was what I needed. So, come almost bed time I turn to my wife and say, "I think I will have one of those tonight."

I knew she would be supportive. She understood what I was going through. She saw my frustrations, etc. But she also knew more than I knew. She knew that was nothing more than a dry drunk at work.

"If you haven't needed it in 20 years," she quietly pointed out, " you don't need it tonight."

[Mumble] [Grumble] That sure didn't work out the way I expected.

Fortunately.

"Yeah, you're right," I said. And went to bed saying the Serenity Prayer and being grateful that I was able to now laugh at it.

I know many of you have no idea what I'm meaning in this. "What's a simple Benadryl or Tylenol PM?" For me they were part of the addictive process at work- back to an understanding that chemicals were the answer to all my problems. I am also sure that many people early in recovery would think I was crazy. "Hey, it's just this once" or some similar rationalization makes sense.

But my wife was right. If I haven't needed them in far more stressful times in 20 years, I sure don't need them today. Addiction is cunning, baffling, powerful-- and patient. Which is why one is never "cured." The possibility is always real and present. But with support and enough recovery in the bank you can get through them and back into the serenity that has kept you going.

A Time to Ponder

With today being the 2nd week after surgery, and feeling better, etc, the following quote at Inward/Outward was more than appropriate. So I thought I would share it:

Remain still. Do not desert your patch of sand. Bear the heat without and the cold within. Put up with the boredom of having nothing to do and the emptiness of having achieved nothing. Do not ask what you are accomplishing. What you accomplish is unimportant. Realize that the most extraordinary thing you can do is to pass the time which never passes. Hope can make time pass. Hope is indeed the true dimension of time. Time is also a factor in our exodus from the slavery of hurry to the promised land of hope.

Source: Alessandro Pronzato- Meditations on the Sand

Time Isn't What It Used to Be

Bob Carlton at The Corner posted the chart at left from The Trend Watch. It shows the length of time it took some technologies to reach the 150 million user mark. Facebook did it in 5 years compared to the telephone which took 89 years.

Take another look at that and you will also see that a mere decade ago, 10 years, neither iPod nor Facebook were even on our radar screens. Today they are two of the most ubiquitous technologies around. What took decades in the past now happens in almost an instant.

I remember a few years ago that people were talking about information doubling every 18 months to two years. Some of that was based on the famous "Moore's Law" which according to Wikipedia,

describes a long-term trend in the history of computing hardware. Since the invention of the integrated circuit in 1958, the number of transistors that can be placed inexpensively on an integrated circuit has increased exponentially, doubling approximately every two years. The trend was first observed by Intel co-founder Gordon E. Moore in a 1965 paper. It has continued for almost half of a century and is not expected to stop for another decade at least and perhaps much longer.

Applying that idea to information it was said that we have more and more information to deal with more quickly. The graph at left also seems to indicate that we have more and more ways to access that information more and more quickly.

So in many ways it appears as if the arrow of time is still moving in only one direction but we are moving a lot faster than we used to. Change is now normal. Lack of change is, well, not normal. We are seeing things develop and disappear more rapidly than ever before. Just because we did it that way 10 years ago (let alone 50 years ago) doesn't mean we will be doing it that way as soon as next week.

I'm not sure where all this leads me today. A week after surgery I am grateful for the speed of change in medicine. In 1958 I had my tonsils removed. They used ether. I stayed in the hospital 24 hours and was in bed at home for a week. A doctor couldn't believe that they actually used ether.

In 1979 my wife had the same surgery I just had. She was in the hospital a week, wasn't allowed in a car (other than to go home) for six-weeks and was told to lie down and not move a lot for the first few weeks. They had me out of bed less than 12-hours post-surgery and home within 30 hours post-surgery. I am already allowed to drive now since I am not on any narcotics. "Walk," they told me. "Walk as much as you can."

So the chart is a framework for a lot of things, not just technologies. Are there dangers? You bet. The ease of lack of privacy is one. So is the ever widening gap between the haves and have-nots; the industrialized nations and the yet-to-be-industrialized nations. We may be overwhelmed by a lot of this change if we do not also maintain our soul. (And I haven't even gone to the impact on the church.)

Having said all that, it is still good to pick up a book and read. Just for fun. Like the sci-fi novel I am working on now about what happens when bio-nano-technology can build new people or rebuild old ones in a time after a cosmic power surge has knocked out technology as we know it today.

Ironic, huh?

It's a Good Day When...

• You get up and get dressed with relative ease
• You go out to breakfast with your wife
• You take a walk around the store
• You have no observable symptoms that had led to the surgery
  
• You go home and take a nap.

I guess I call it a day of "cautious optimism."