Love, affection and a little something extra

Alex is a lover not a fighter. He loves everybody--little dogs, big dogs, little people and big people. He's still trying to win over Kevin's cat Mena, and I think his feelings are a little hurt that Mena seems to be so fond of Abby but not him.

I recently joined the volunteer group Hands On Charlotte, which runs a therapy dog program with a few different local nursing homes. Since Alex has the perfect temperament to be a therapy dog, I took him on his first venture to the nursing home tonight. He had to get adjusted to the different smells and the wheelchairs at first, but he was great with the residents. One lady, who was confined to a bed, leaned way forward just so Alex could reach her to give her a kiss, and she was so excited when he did. Of course he was as happy as the residents and he didn't stop smiling the whole time.

Everything was going great, right until we were almost ready to leave. Then apparently the excitement of it all just caught up with Alex and, yes, my dog stopped in the middle of the hall and took a great big dump. Actually, that was the one time he did stop smiling. According to the coordinator, that's not an uncommon occurrence for "first-timers." I think Alex was embarrassed anyway.

But we got things cleaned up, we were on our way again, and he soon forgot his little accident when he discovered the next person waiting to give him attention and enjoy his shower of kisses. Yep, there's nothing like the love of a dog.

Birthday Ponderings

Last weekend, I helped build a picnic table, as part of a volunteer project at a local charter school. It was a monumental moment for me, not just because I've never built a picnic table before, but because it's something that I couldn't have done last year.

Today is my 30th birthday, which I guess is supposed to be one of those "landmark" birthdays where you're leaving the freedom of your 20s and entering adulthood. In many ways, this is a landmark birthday for me, but not because I am getting "old" and turning into a serious adult.

It is a landmark for me because today, sitting here writing this post, I feel about 30 years younger than I did on this day last year. On this day last year, I sat in the office of my wonderful neurosurgeon, Dr. Aldem Milam, at Orthocarolina, and made a huge decision. I decided to have major back surgery to fuse my L5-S1 vertabra. It's not a decision many 29-year-olds make.

Not quite three weeks later, I was walking into Presbyterian Orthopedic Hospital, so Dr. Milam and his staff could drill through my tailbone to the disc that had been causing me so much pain, scoop out the gelly innards, and replace that with a big bolt that extended between the two vertebra on other side of the disc. A couple more tiny screws in what's known as the facet joint, and they were all done.

A side note--It's worth mentioning that the day I was being converted to the bionic woman, George Clooney was doing a promo for his new movie, Leatherheads, at the train depot in Salisbury, where they had done some of the filming. They also filmed at my workplace, the N.C. Transportation Museum, and had I not been on the operating table, I would have been at the depot, meeting George.

Four weeks after the surgery, I returned to work. A few weeks later, I completed my physical therapy. At my three-month follow-up, I was informed that the joint was completely fused (meaning that "bolt and screw" operation that immobilized the joint had successfully resulted in the bones of the two vertabra "growing together" to form one solid, immobile piece of bone). Since there's no motion in the joint, it can't cause me pain. But I also can't touch my toes without bending my knees just a little. It's a small price to pay.

The road leading to surgery for me was a long one, starting two and half years earlier. It started as a pain in my calf, that was almost like a mild cramp, but wouldn't go away. I tried eating a lot of bananas, thinking maybe my potassium was low, and that was causing the constant cramp. Eventually I learned it was a tear in my disc that allowed the aforementioned gelly innards of the disc to leak out and irritate the nerve that ran past it and down my leg.

Getting a clear diagnosis of a back problem isn't easy, and I went through about two years of trigger point injections, epidural steroid injections, this electrical shock thing to test my nerve function, x-rays, MRIs, and even a procedure called a discogram where they did an injection into the disc to try to replicate the pain and determine if that was indeed the source of my pain. Another side note--when the doctor and staff spotted my tattoo as they were preparing me for this notoriously painful procedure, they joked about all the big tattooed guys that came in for a discogram then cried like babies when they were on the table. Very comforting indeed.

By the time we decided to go forward with surgery, the mild cramp in leg had grown into a constant pain down the back of my entire leg and most of my back, and I was taking 4-6 narcotic painkillers a day. I felt like I was at least twice my age. By nature, I am a happy, positive person. But people in chronic pain are not happy, positive people. I don't think I truly understood how deeply the pain had affected every aspect of my life until I was no longer in pain and I felt my old self returning. There have been a few, "oh, this is me, this is what I used to be like" moments along the way. It's hard to express how unbelievably grateful I am for my friends who stuck with me, even when I wasn't really me, and especially to Kevin, who saw my struggle from the closest vantage point of anyone.

But thanks to the support of those friends and the very talented medical personnel at OrthoCarolina and Presbyterian, today, on my 30th birthday, I feel my own age again. So I am not celebrating getting old. I am celebrating my youth. And to celebrate here are some of the things I can do today that I could not just one year ago:

* Give my dogs a bath.
* Take my dogs for a walk in the park.
* Sleep on my right side.
* Stand at a busy restaurant waiting for a table for more than 10 minutes.
* Stand in the kitchen long enough to cook a nice dinner.
* Go to the Y.
* Go to the mall with my friends and not bail out early.
* Make the long drive home to Pennsylvania.
* Pick up my niece and nephew and play with them (after I've made that long drive home).
* Build a picnic table. :)

Slow and steady wins the race

I have officially lost five pounds! Okay, I'm trying to sound more excited than I actually am, cuz losing weight takes FOREVER. The general rule of thumb is that one to two pounds per week is a healthy rate of weight loss for most people. I am floating almost right at that one pound mark. Figures I'd be at the low end.

Okay, I know I shouldn't be complaining, because five pounds is good. This is just going to take more commitment than any other time I've had to lose weight, for a couple of reasons. One, I have more weight to lose, so I have to stick with a restricted diet longer (of course I'm going to have to be more careful about what I eat even after I lose the weight, but not quite as cautious). The most weight I've ever shed is 15 pounds, and I'm looking at twice that now (well, minus the 5 so now I've only got 25 to go).

Issue two, though is how I'm losing the weight. In the past, I've just started running like a madman, three or four times a week, at least. I'd watch what I ate too, but I wasn't fanatical about tracking my calorie intake or anything, because with the running and just cutting out some sweets and fast food, I could usually take off a few pounds pretty quickly. Plus I liked running (I know, sadistic, but it cleared my head, mellowed me out, yada yada...).

But now, unfortunately, I am forbidden from running. It was basically the one activity my neurosurgeon forbid me from doing. No prohibitions on bungee jumping or roller coasters or anything else one might think could be dangerous to the back, but yeah he sure did say, "Running is probably a bad idea." He said running on a treadmill is okay, but what fun is that? Stay in one place, maybe listen to my iPod, glance around me at the other sweaty people in much better shape than me...it's a thrill a minute, let me tell you.

So, I am doing the Y workout thing. Which is good, because I'm doing strength training, and I'm paying special attention to the machines that work my core muscles to make sure my back stays nice and strong in the future. I'm hoping to catch a yoga or pilates class one of these days, if I can get there in time after work. And I'm even doing the treadmill some. It's just a lot harder to motivate myself.

Anyhoo, it does make me feel good to see steady progress, and I have been doing really well watching my calorie intake. I think the hardest thing about that is when I'm eating with other people. Because for me to stay on top of my calories, I have to be really anal about it--I carry a little journal and calorie guide around with me all the time, because if I just try to keep track of it in my head, I will overeat. So if I'm doing this around someone heavier than me, I worry that they will think the same thing I think when I hear someone thinner than me talking about fat grams or watching carb intake or whatever--"what does she have to worry about anyway?"

Luckily I don't look like I'm as overweight as I am, but I know what my weight used to be, and should be. My BMI is about three points over what is considered healthy. And while I'm not going to make my health decisions based solely on charts, I know that I had reached a point where I needed to make some lifestyle changes and be healthier. My mom and grandma both are overweight, and they didn't start out that way. The pounds crept on gradually, like they have with me, until they reached a point where I think the weight loss just seemed like an insurmountable challenge. I don't want to reach that point, where my weight would affect the activities I could enjoy, the clothes I could wear, and my overall health. And with my back issues, I know it's all the more important to keep my weight down and to keep the muscles that help protect strong.

So at the rate I am going...one month down, five more to go. Wish me luck!