My Cup Runneth Over!

Garden Delights, Picked By Loving Hands

I have been given a HUGE reminder of the GOODNESS all around me. I never expected that so many people would come forward and turn my recovery into a completely delightful experience.

NOW I can say my recovery is "delightful". In the hospital, I could only think and talk about killing myself. Great improvement in my attitude, wouldn't you say? That's because so many people have helped to BRING ME BACK TO LIFE!

Just a few examples . .
* An 84-year-old friend offers foot rubs to help me relax.

* Fresh produce arrives, hand-picked by various loving neighbors.

* A childhood friend cleans my carpets and caulks my shower stall.

* Delicious meals and 'treats' show up at my door on a regular basis, which is a
wonderful thing since I probably would have lost ten additional pounds
without this kind of support!

* My doctor plants a flower bed while another friend tackles the gardens in the lower yard.

* There are frequent offers to run errands, and that's been so helpful, here and there.

* Fresh-picked flowers keep my bedroom fragrant.

* Loaned piles books and DVDs . . . and even a TV set for the bedroom provide me coping mechanisms for the long 'resting' hours.

* A dear room-mate from my college days comes every other evening to apply
comfrey ointment on my incision.

* There are so many calls and visits sprinkled throughout the day so that I NEVER feel lonely or depressed.

In fact, I feel totally LOVED and thoroughly PAMPERED!
My heart runneth over!

Childhood friend, caulking my shower stall.

Dr. Sue's flower garden, outside my dining room window.

Sisters Jayne & Barbara, whose photos represent all the
many, MANY dear friends
keeping me surrounded by lovewhile my body is healing.

And this post doesn't even TOUCH the many way
my FAMILY has helped me through this!
Another time!

Drug Withdrawal

For me, drugs are a two-edged sword. With my medications, the pain whispers instead of screaming at me.

Be honest, Ginger. Sometimes it talks rather loudly. But there IS a measure of control with my pharmaceutical friends. And I'm very grateful for that.

On the other hand, I suffer from LOW APPETITE and I point the finger at my collection of pills. (Lucky thing I have kind KIND friends who have come to my rescue with tasty morsels, enticing me to eat.)

Over the last three days, I have cut my medication in half. Not because anyone said to do so. I just wanted to see how I'd get along with less meds. Well, this is how I managed . . .


I suffered. I used a month's supply of Klennex. (Sorry I forgot to pull out the camera and snap some shots of my very own crying bouts. But this image gets the point across.)

But, I'm over it and I'm taking HALF the meds as I was taking last week! Instead of Dilaudid (2 mg) and Ultram SIX times a day, it's THREE times. Instead of Zanaflex and Lyrica THREE times a day, I've tossed the Zanaflex and cut the Lyrica down to twice a day. No more setting the alarm clock and getting up to pop pills! Hurrah!


And, how about the pain?

I'm managing
... and I'm still hiking!

Bad Girl Confession

What most of you don't know is this: I was a BAD GIRL when I first got home. After waving goodbye to my dear brother Richard who picked me up at Provo's little airport, I grabbed the car keys and my girlfriend MaryJoy and my dog Chica and I drove up to the Rock Canyon trailhead, just four blocks from home. I was in 7th Heaven as I hiked towards the mouth of the canyon with butterflies and dragonflies leading the way. Life seemed so perfect. And it was. Even if I wore myself out completely.

Because I am maturing, slowly but surely, I listened to my doctor on the following day when she said, "You can hike, but can't you drive . . . yet" So, I found a new hiking"buddy" every day who would take me to the trailhead until I got back my driving privileges. Still, it continues to require great endurance and I usually come home pooped.

This photo was taken on my 2nd day back from New York.

How grateful I am that the Relief Society (women's organization in the Mormon Church) have brought me SIX dinners since I've come home, because I probably would have chosen to use my minimal energy hiking instead of preparing proper meals. Fortunately, I don't eat a lot and I've judiciously consumed 1 Relief Society dinner for two or three days. Then, the next one arrives! (Well, yesterday I told my dear sisters in the R.S. that I'm ready to fly solo on the food front. Truly, I am.)

I've kept rather quiet about my hiking, because folks wouldn't understand what we scoliosis surgery survivors understand.

That is, we KNOW that there is only a very small daily quota of FUEL in our tanks and when it's gone, it's really gone. Having your skeletal systems rearranged and then pinned in place with metal screws and rods kinda takes it out of you. So, one must PRIORITIZE carefully.

I choose to hike, because it's GOOD for my body and my spirit and my dog. Each day, as I trek farther up the canyon, I feel stronger, healthier. That's just what I need!

I Got WHEELS!

Right gal.
Right vehicle.
Wrong place.

Today was my first Maiden Voyage. Yep! I was cleared for driving.

It took some work to convince my doctor that I am truly able-bodied, in spite of my handicap sticker which gives me until Halloween to achieve that desirable status.

It also took relinquishing Xanaflex, a powerful medication which has the ability to send folks off to La La Land.

I tossed the drugs and it was,all and all, a GREAT trade-off.

Here are my limits:

5 Miles Distance, MAX.

No Night Driving

Hmmm, I can live with those, I told the doctor nonchalantly, while my heart was singing "YIPPEE YIPPEE YIPPEE!!!"

So where did I choose to go for my Maiden Voyage this afternoon? To the beauty parlor, naturally. (I know people don't call them beauty parlors in the 21st Century, but I was born in 1952 and find it endearing as well as age-identifying. Especially since I like my age.) So, it started as a little trimming of the bangs and ended as a full blown hair cut and style. I felt GLORIOUS! And I didn't look half bad either.

Did I run around town doing lots of little five-mile errands? No. I have matured into a moderate and cautious person who accepts her limits gracefully. (My doctor reads this blog.)

First Out-patient Physical Therapy VIsit

I went to my first out-patient physical therapy session yesterday and I knocked the socks off the therapist, who was fully prepared to see me in a walker. After all, he's been dealing with these kind of cases for thirty years. Well, the truth is, I am SUPPOSE to be hunkered down over a walker, shuffling along. That's the way it usually goes. In my case, I've had such a large basket-full of loving support and my body responded by kicking into gear prematurely.

Mr. P.T. spent thirty minutes measuring all the bones and found that everything aligns nicely. That was a BIG DEAL to me. The next hour was spent doing a series of about twelve exercises. WIMPY exercises. Not at all like the stuff that my Cruella Deville Pilates teacher had me doing for the last two years. (Think of that evil character in 101 Dalmatians and you will understand the nature of the torture I endured.) I am HUMBLED by these wimpy exercises. But I understand.

You see, in my back, there are hundreds of bits of bone that my surgeon grafted from my old fusions (done in 1966) and from the three ribs he detached. He placed them between twelve of my discs. These bone morsels need to grow and attach themselves to my spinal discs so that they will never ever curve again.

CAREFUL is the name of the game for me now. It doesn't come naturally, let me tell you. But it's the way I need to lead my life until the all the smidgens of bone FUSE and become a part of my spine.

A LITTLE EDUCATION: For most people, it is good to have a spine that moves freely. Well, MY spine seems to have had a very extensive view of that freedom and moved way to the right and then way to the left. If you want a visual, here's what it looked like before surgery:



As you can see, this is NOT good. I needed a spine that stayed right in the center. Thus, twelve of my discs have been rearranged in a more conventional fashion (straight) and then fused.

So, I am learning a new style. I must hold myself back. I must do wimpy exercises. I must behave conservatively. FOR ONE ENTIRE YEAR. Yep. That's how long it takes for bones to fuse. My challenge will be to accept my limitations graciously.

None of this behavior for 300 more days . . .

I have been debating on whether or not I would include this shot that Kelty took of my gorgeous scar.

Some of you may tell me that my scar looks "striking", but not exactly attractive. Well, I just think it's the Cat's Meow. We all travel through some truly amazing journeys along the way, but not all of us have such a STUNNING piece of body art by which to remember a one of life's truly magnificent adventures.

Besides, my distinctive outsides match my one-of-a-kind insides. Being unique is such a delight!

Of course, it's only THREE WEEKS since this 28 inch slice was created on my back and the "look" of it will change. By the time I'm cleared for swimming, it won't be this brilliant red color. One will have to take a second look to really see it at all. That's okay. If they want to see the "raw" version, I can send them to this blog.

Here's where I hope to be next year. . . and I just might make it, considering all the love and encouragement which has blessed my life and sped up my recovery! I am deeply humbled and grateful for so many helping hands and kind hearts! (BTW, this was my pre-surgery Victory Dance, just before I left for New York City.)

Post Surgery Movement

The video above shows where I am at today!

Home again!!!

I've been home for forty-eight hours and New York City seems to be light years away! What an amazing experience to flown right home to Provo in a private jet, provided by my brother Ken. We rode way above the flight zone of the commercial jets, which meant we could look down at the thunderheads instead of flying through them. It was smooth sailing all the way without any security lines or other such nonsense.

I have received a mountain-full of blessing as I've gone through this initial phase of recovery. The private jet ride was right up there with the blessing of the world's best scoliosis surgeon and three kids who have been wonderful through this huge ordeal.

Some jet shots! Here's my sister Tricia (on the right) and myself, ready for take off . . .


Here's my brother Ken (who is a regular Jet Setter) and my daughter Kelty, who has been a fabulous caregiver during my entire NYC recovery.


Here I am, in front of our jet at the Provo Airport (Notice, it is now OUR jet!) As you can demise, it was quite windy when we arrived . . . Friday evening at 7:30 p.m. Let me just say, I was ELATED to be back on my home turf! So spacious and relatively quiet compared to Manhattan!

I feel myself recovering beautifully here. My god-daughter and her natal mom have been so attentive. They will be here until Tuesday and then Kelty and Duane will be moving in. The way I'm feeling, I am guessing I'll be managing independently before long!

Kelty took this photo TODAY with my surgeon Dr. Ohenaba Boachie, one of the "World's Top Ten Miracle Doctors", according to the Discovery Channel. I'm cleared to go home, but must return to have my reconstructed spine evaluated by Dr Boachie at the following intervels:

Six weeks post-op (that's in just 28 days!)

3 months post-op

6 months post-op

Annual visits for the rest of my life!

So, I guess New York City and I are going to be friends forever and ever!

My Unique Body

New Plans! We leave for Utah tomorrow (not Saturday) via private jet. On board: my brother Ken, my sister Tricia, my daughter Kelty and ME, along with a few pounds of titantium - my new lifetime companion.

Speaking of titanium, I wanted show off my new and relatively unique insides. I have eighteen 'pedicle' screws, approx. four inches long. They are attached to the bone of the spine. Then, there are two rods which run the length of my spine. They were shaped in the operating room in order to manipulate my spine out of it's curvature and into correct alignment. Since the rods are connected to the screws which are attached to the spine, the spine was forcibly moved into its new position. In other words, they cranked my spine with the help of the rods, changing my curvature from 65* to 24*. That must have taken amazing FORCE!

Three of my ribs were detached and repositioned into a more appropriate location, eliminating my rib hump. Bone grafts were taken from my 40 year old fusions and the ribs which were repositioned. As I move around, I can feel all those bits of bone making unearthly music. The doctor says I needn't worry about the crunching sounds, they will go away as the bone starts to fuse during the next few months.

Coming Home!

Thanks to my Uncle Ken, Mom is not going to have to go through the commercial flight system, and will be returning home on a private jet on June 7th (Saturday). This will be much better in several ways: Mom can lie flat during the ride, we won't have to go through security, and there will probably be more room for mom's luggage. There will probably be other perks to the private flight, and it is undeniably a better way to get home.

As we are preparing for the flight home, we have met with several doctors. Mom met again with Dr. Boachie Monday, and then Tuesday morning she met with the director of the pain management department of the hospital. Today we went to see a retinal specialist! Mom was seeing flashing and shadows on her left eye, similar to her experience last fall when she had a retinal tear which required an emergency surgery. Although the specialist didn't recommend surgery right away, he suggested that she get into a retinal specialist after returning to Utah. I want to thank Cody for always being available for our medical questions. He was able talk to Mom this morning and provide some great suggestions.

Mom really is a trooper as she continues to manage her pain. The meds have finally stabilized to the point where she is not groggy most of the day, but she still has continuous high level of pain. She was prescribed Xanax last night for sleep, and was able to sleep 5 and a half hours! She has been averaging under two hours of sleep daily since the surgery.

There are so many people who have extended their love and support through this process, and I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart. Mom is two inches taller. I think this surgery will change her life in many wonderful ways in addition to her height. Much of the real healing for Mom will begin after she arrives home, and I will do my best to post the ways that she could be helped during that time for family and friends in the area. Though she can't express it right now, I know that she has also been profoundly grateful for the family and friends who have stepped forward to lend their love, support and resourse's to make this surgery possible.

Thank you,

Kelty

Drugs are DANGEROUS

It's Ginger here! I am gaining enough energy to write a blog and that's a great step in the right direction. Apparently, I missed quite a bit of the action over the last couple of weeks, due to my state of post-surgical confusion. I guess it's a common fall-out from major surgery. Being completely under anesthesia for nineteen hours didn't get me functioning well out of the starting gates. Then, in my drug-induced fog, I simply wanted OUT! (Or so they tell me.) I wanted to go, go, go. Dr. Boachie had to limit my walks around the perimeter of the ward to three times a day. (I was doing six, on my third day post-surgery.) I was the frantic goldfish is a tiny bowl.

You might think my energy was a good thing. Well, it wasn't. I seemed to forget that I had several accoutrements attached to my body and they had to go with me. I'd just hop out of bed whenever I felt like it and get as far as I could before they would stop me. I was nimble, but it simply wasn't safe, because I was out of my mind. Several nights, a private duty nurse had to be installed to keep my wings clipped and my IVs safely connected to my body.

Usually, my drug haze put me back to sleep within a few minutes of agitation or garble speech. My kids took some video footage of my verbal recaps of the bears, monkeys, and bugs that I'd be watching. But I'd say a few words and then snooze for 15 seconds and go back to speaking, although the topic had been changed. Apparently, I even found my cell phone and called my local doc, rambling on incomprehensively. More than once. One of my regular themes was to try and negotiate my way into more meds, because the pain was unbearable. Those White Coats would show up and I attempted to use every trick in the book to get them to agree to switching my drug list to something that would actually help the pain.

Truly, all this was VERY challenging for my children and sister. Since I don't remember any of my non-compliant behavior, they have (with promptings) filled in the gaps. I simply wasn't the mom and sister they knew. In fact, they had to protect me from myself constantly. Very exhausting. Now that they've shared a bit of the challenge with me, I feel so repentent and sorry for all the trouble I caused. Unintentionally, for certain.

On the eleven and last day of the hospital, I began to wake up. It took two more days for the fog to truly lift. Getting de-institutionalized really helps in these cases, according to my home doc and the pain management team at the Hospital for Special Surgeries. Today, Dr. Wagner, the head of the Pain Meds Dept. told me I wasn't bad at all and he deals with such cases every day.

Too bad my kids didn't have Dr. Wagner's perspective. For them, it was just HARD.

MORAL: Drugs are dangerous.

Monday Morning: Last Meeting with Dr. Boachi

Hello Family and Friends,

Tomorrow morning is our last meeting with Dr. Boachi. He will look over mom's back again and re-assess how she is doing. Today she went on a walk all the way around the block. Duane also went back to Chicago today for his last week at Getco in Chicago (Go Duane!).

Overall, Mom's physical ability is above and beyond what we expected. Other than reaching up or down, and twisting, she can do most things on her own. The recovery will be focused on dealing with the pain, for the most part. We are looking forward to saying goodbye to NY soon and traveling home.

Thanks to Victoria Harris, my mom's goddaughter, Chica and the plants (and our hamster and goldfish) are being taken care of during this extended stay in NY. Thanks Vic!

Kelty