It wasn't the sun

This morning Theo and I drove out to the collision site. I had it in my head that I needed to know that the sun was not in the eyes of the driver, therefore making it difficult for him to see me. Even though both Theo and my friend Steve did this drive just days after the collision; and both reported that it was not, I had to see for myself. And so here it is.

Clearly you can see that on the stretch of road I was riding, the sun was not a factor. It is not even in the front window of the car.

355 days ago, this is what that road looked like at 9:15 am. 

We passed a couple of guys on bikes today, not in exactly the same place, but on the same road. Every time I see people on bikes I wonder, how did he not see me? The other thing I think about is what it used to feel like to ride on those roads. Especially that particular route. When I drive up and down those triathlon hills I think about what it felt like pushing hard to the top, wondering if I would ever make it, and then catching my breath as I screamed down the other side.

We will be away on "the anniversary". Which is just fine by me. It is certainly nothing to celebrate. Except that I am alive.

Breaking a sweat

The most obvious part of having a spinal cord injury is not being able to walk. There is so much more to it than that, but here is one that changed today. I broke a sweat! Big deal? You bet. Excuse me while I get into Biology Teacher mode, but the spinal cord does more than just send and receive messages about movement and sensation, it also does this thing called homeostasis. Homeo what? Homeostasis means steady state. All of those things that need to be kept in a "normal" range like heart rate, blood pressure, water balance and temperature. 

Several weeks ago on one of the first really hot days I went out to the far garden where the asparagus lives. It is far from the house and a bumpy ride to get out there - so I am sure I had some help - and it was hot. I was so keen to help pick asparagus that I ignored how hot I was getting. I could still feel it on my upper body and I know my legs were feeling it too (especially in my black yoga pants which are all I seem to wear). By the time I got back inside I felt awful. Really awful. And I could not explain it. I got on to the bed and asked Theo to turn on the AC. It took about 20 minutes before the awful feeling went away. 

Later on one day while chatting with my Parkwood riders we got to talking about how we felt when we got hot. Brian nailed it - he said that his first summer he did not go out at all because when he got hot he felt claustrophobic. That's it! That is how I felt. He also said that it got much better for him the second summer. Which made me hopeful. 

Back to my lesson (I get distracted easily - ask my students). Temperature regulation requires the ability to sweat. Through evapotranspiration our bodies are able to cool. Water on the skin (from sweat) evaporates causing a cooling effect. It is the responsibility of the spinal cord to send messages to sweat glands to tell them to work. If you can't send a message you can't sweat and you can't cool down without applying water to your skin. My injury (T4) is high, above that level of that spinal cord function. The sweat message can't get through. I can't sweat. Well, I couldn't sweat, until today. For some reason that message got through. 

I still remember the first time I met Dave Willsie and he told me he had not bought antiperspirant in 20 years. He can do a workout of wind sprints and go straight to work - no shower needed. I thought no way. But it's true, some with para or quadriplegia don't sweat unless something is wrong - really wrong like a pressure sore or an overfilled bladder. This reaction is called autonomic dysreflexia and it has happened to me only once in this past year. It is quite the signal. 

I should have taken a picture of me with my sweaty glow, but I was too excited about being sweaty!

The ekso 1544 steps

The bike 10.32 miles

Building Bridges

I have to admit, when I first saw posters up around Wingham, I didn't really understand what Building Bridges for the Future was all about. Now that I have been a part of this campaign I have an insider's point of view and I can see clearly where it is going.

The sports fields at F. E. Madill are on two tiers, the upper field and the lower field, the lower surrounded by the gravel track. What stands between those two fields is a hill.

The muddy track and the hill between the two fields

In my previous life I took great pleasure in torturing my athletes by getting them to run, ski-stride, lunge, squat, skate or push-up their way up and down that hill. We have also had fun on that hill with our skis on and crazy carpets that live in the ski room. Now, however, that hill is insurmountable. To try and go down it in my chair would be dangerous; to go up, well near impossible.

I had always known that the fields were in rough shape, we played games and ran circuits on them. Running on rough terrain is just a good way to build up ankle strength, right? This past fall I went to watch and cheer on at a couple of ski team practices. This was still pretty early in my recovery, but being in my chair and on those fields I really got a feel for how rough they are. I needed to be pushed across the upper field, even with my free wheel on, and when we got to the hill to watch skiers practice their ski striding I thought no way. There was no way I would be going down to that track.

One of the key features of the Building Bridges project is to make that track and lower field accessible. They have hired Burnside Engineering to make a safe passage way which will allow anyone with a physical disability a way down. When I go back to Madill I will be able to get to that track and lower field, but only if there is enough money to make it happen.

The people who are volunteering their time to manage and fundraise for this project are fiends of mine. I was asked if I would help. Gladly. They raised $60,500 at the Gala (where I spoke) and they are $40,000 away from being able to start this project. The school board has committed to help with the drainage of the lower field and the accessibility path, but more money is needed before they will be allowed to bring in the machines.

If you are a Madill Alumni or a former teacher, if you ever competed on or participated in gym class on a sports field or if you just want to see a safe place for students and the community at large to get fit, please consider making a donation. Here is the page to go to: Building Bridges Fundraising Page and I am told that if enough money is raised they may be able to rubberize the track, how fantastic that would be for runners and rollers alike!

Even though I raised $2100 at the Gala by auctioning off those two bike helmets, I have not yet personally made a donation. It is about time that I did, and I hope that if you can, you will help too.

Old wheels, new wheels

It's time. Nearly one year has passed. I decided that it was time to ask Theo to haul this out of the basement. I knew it was mashed somewhat, but it was much less than I had imagined. The rear tire was what took most of the collision, and the down tube was kinked. You can't see much of my helmet, it has a bit of blood on it, no major cracks and just a few dents in the interior foam. The seat, which I had only just purchased in July, looks untouched, the front tire still has air in it. It was a nice bike. I plan on sending this picture to the manufacturer and thanking them for designing a helmet to meet such high standards. Standards that allowed it to save my brain.

We took my new wheels on the Bruce Trail yesterday. It was a good test to see what they were capable of; and it was a hard lesson. Trail biking was my favourite kind of biking. Ever since I was a teenager I loved it - I was never as hardcore as my brother, but it was the only thing I ever skipped school to do. Getting out on the trail yesterday and feeling that every root, rock and slope was a serious obstacle and not just some fun bit of the trail, well that was tough.

The other hard part was not being able to go with Theo and the kids as they explored the falls. This was as far as I could go. I felt a little like a girl in a fairy tale waiting to escape from the tower where she was being held hostage...

I am hoping that my mountain trike will arrive soon and I will be able to get a little bit farther and a lot faster on a trail. I felt very ill-equipped in my Tilite, especially when the guy on the mountain bike passed me saying that the trail got quite rough up ahead - as though I would not be able to recognize the potential hazard I would face should I continue. I supposed he was just trying to be helpful, but the mountain biker in me could not help but feel insulted.

In the end though, we had a good day. How I have missed being in the woods. We'll be making regular trips to Owen Sound to see a specialist there, so we'll have plenty of opportunities to keep trekking the Bruce to see how far we can get.

Rehabathlon

I have a new endurance sport. I discovered it with the help of my PTA Barry at Parkwood. We call it Rehabathlon. It's kind of like a triathlon, but without the swimming and wetsuit, or the being outside, or the fun and oh so aerodynamic outfit. But it sure has the fancy equipment - way more than all those fancy bikes. And it only happens on special Thursdays, lucky for me that was yesterday.

My new endurance sport looks like this: Lokomat, FES, Ekso. The distance are not defined ahead of time, in fact they are determined on the fly. The Lokomat requires a considerable about of setup, and because of the atrophy of the muscles in my legs, my setup has changed. Smaller cuffs are needed to strap my legs to the walking part of the machine, so making those changes ate into my walking time yesterday. But usually I walk about one kilometer. Then it's lunch (which also is not a part of the endurance race - at least not until after...)

FES bike is next (functional electrical stimulus). Setup requires the assistance of the staff, it is hard to properly place four electrodes on one's own behind. I managed 11.5 miles in my one hour time limit yesterday, a record for me. The time flew, of course, because all my Parkwood friends were there to chat about all the random things that most people would never think about. Like where the wheelchair friendly bars are in London, accessible holidays and how to work the insurance system to be in your favour. I am getting my own FES bike to have at home - but I will keep going to Parkwood on Thursdays - it's therapy for my body and my mind.

Now here is the bonus part from this Thursday - I also got to walk in the Ekso. The St. Joseph's AGM was at Parkwood and they wanted a demo of the equipment being used in the physio gym. I happened to be the lucky person in the right place at the right time, so I got off the FES and into the Ekso. All just in time to be standing as the Board of Directors walked in. I did a couple of laps of the gym and stopped to talk to them. I must say I was the perfect person to do it, I love to talk, teach and make people laugh - and that is exactly what I did. Afterwards the Vice President in charge of Parkwood, came back to meet, shake my hand me and say thank you. Very nice, indeed.

Awake in the night

Do you ever wake in the night and end up with thoughts that take you down a not-so-helpful path? Last night is was around four a.m. and as I lay there thinking about how uncomfortable I was and how peaceful Theo's sleep sounded, I heard it. The dreaded Ornge - that helicopter that, no matter what, is the bearer of horrible things. And so turned my thoughts to terrible things like remembering what it was like to be in critical care, the pain and the effect of the drugs. It wasn't long, that I was awake, but when I awoke again in the morning I couldn't shake those negative thoughts. Some sort of dread. So I cried in the shower.

These June days used to be my favourite. Up at the crack of dawn to do a brick workout or pick strawberries in the garden or hoe and weed. Now I can't do any of those, at least not on my own. How will I ever achieve that level of satisfaction? Getting the best part of the day all to myself? And accomplishing so much at the same time? Loss of independence is so very difficult to come to terms with. Almost one year in, and nowhere near.

Mid morning we all went out to the garden to see if we could find some strawberries. You see last July I planted two perfect rows of plants, weeded, strawed and watered. They looked great. That was then. Now, well they have been freed from the wheat that grew from that straw, but they do not have the same fervor that they should have at this time of year. What the kids found instead was a small patch of wild berries - not quite the teeny tiny ones found everywhere else on the property, but small nonetheless. And there were tonnes of them! So what could I do but get down to the ground, out of my chair and help pick. We got about half a yogurt container full but just as many went into our mouths.

The kids and I spent the afternoon on the Blyth Greenway Trail. It is a small portion of the Goderich to Guelph trail (G2G) that used to be a rail line. Now it is used by hikers, bikers and some folks on four wheels who, in my opinion, should not be there. This section runs along the creek and has fitness stations set up with signs and wooden post for various exercises. The kids had fun jumping over the rocks in the creek and challenging each other on the fitness stations. I just rolled along, in no rush. It was quite an odd sensation, knowing that the pre-accident me would have been running the trail, thinking that the kids were going too slow. Instead, when Ella said that I should let them know when I was ready to move along, I just took the time to watch them play. Pre-collision me would have been impatient, now I seem to have more patience - for some things that is.

I feel all mixed up these days. Up and down so often in a day it makes my head spin. Some excitement at therapy and in the pool, but then the frustrating realization that I can't do what I want, that I have to find another way. I just hope I will.

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming swimming swimming

Swimming is a part of my weekly physio routine. Once a week, Elaine and I make the trek to the North Huron Wescast Community Complex in Wingham where, we meet Tammy. She is the aqua therapist who has been working with me since November. Every time I see Tammy she has a new idea: "I just want you to give this a try and see what happens". Which, of course, I will do because I want to see what happens too! This week was no exception.

Because the Wingham pool seems to vary in both air and water temperature (even though the life guards always say is is 84 degrees), what exercises I accomplish each week also varies. The colder the water the more lengths I have to swim - just to keep warm. Last week was one of the coldest in a while - as a result I think I swam more than a dozen lengths - the most yet. Completing a length is easy(ish), starting one is the tricky part. In my pre-collision days as a swimmer I would power off the wall with a flip-turn after every length - something I learned to do way back when I was 12 and on the Orangeville Otters swim team.

Now, pushing off the wall is completely different. Pushing with one's arms lacks the large muscle groups of the quads and hams, so I just skip that push altogether. I have been "flip-rolling" from front to back instead, one length front crawl, then flip-roll to my back to swim back crawl. It is certainly not graceful (especially starting on my back), but it gets my legs in a position where they "cooperate" and don't end up crossed at the ankles.

Even in the water, my leg muscles will spasm - that is why ankle crossing is bad. This sends not just my legs, but also my core into spasm which makes swimming difficult. My best position allows my legs to be flexed at the hips and knees, but not too flexed because that creates drag - which of course slows me down. It's already hard enough to do all my swimming "arms only".

Aside from swimming, we do core and arm exercises. Now when I say "we" that is mostly true. I do my best to try and bully Elaine and Tammy, who don't want to get their hair wet, into doing the exercises. Come swim with me, I will bully you too. We balance on pool noodles (hard to do with no core) doing various things with our arms, legs and arms with paddles; we lift ourselves out of the pool on the edge just using arms, we tricep-dip on the stairs, and we "suntan-superman" and pendulum swing. The pendulum is one of my favourite things to do because it make me feel like my core is really working.

When I first started in the pool in November I wanted to try visualizing my legs moving in the water. This was difficult, both mentally and physically. Mentally because I was trying so desperately to make it happen, and physically because I was trying to use every working muscle to make it happen - even my face. So we gave that a break for a while, in favour of spending the time standing in the shallow end. The Wingham pool has a half wall down the middle with a bar along the top. I position my feet at the base of the wall, knees in line and pull myself to standing, pressing my hips into the wall and pulling back my shoulder blades for good posture. I love doing this, it makes me feel tall. I am sure people who see me doing this, and don't know me, wonder what on Earth I am doing.

Today, I went back to visualizing my legs moving in the water. This is something that can not be accomplished on land. Gravity is a bitch, and the weight of my legs and the friction of a surface makes this type of visualization-into-action next to impossible. That is why I love water - buoyancy is wonderful. We did things a little bit differently today and, it may appear that, I was able to move my legs.

We started with a "kicking the soccer ball" motion with about the same success as before - sure that any motion was more from my core than my legs. Then we tried adduction and abduction - opening and closing my legs, again no success. This lead to trying one at a time, with Tammy guiding my leg so that as I am thinking of the action, she makes my leg do the action. I was watching her face as we did this and I could see in her expression that something was different. She said she was going to let go and see what happened, and what happened was my leg kept doing the in-out motion. We tried the other leg, with the same result.

It could have been any number of things making my leg move, so I am not getting too excited about it, but nevertheless, they moved. Which just goes to show you have to keep trying, even when nothing seems to work.