Moving Forward

Many people are familiar with the phrase, "One step forward, two steps back," but I've never heard a phrase to come after that. After what I've just been through, I think I'd add, "just keep stepping forward to return to the track . . ."

Okay—yes, it's a little corny, but let me tell you, it's the "stepping forward," no matter how far you feel your progress is delayed or set back, that makes all the difference.

The Japanese have a saying, "Nana korobi ya oki" (七転び八起き), which means "Fall down seven times, stand up eight." This phrase underscores the importance of a "never give up" attitude, which is the core of human survival.

I write about this today because I'm recovering from a long, painful stay in the hospital. The evening of July 26th, I started suffering from some severe abdominal pain. I thought perhaps it was gas—heartburn—anything other than what it was, and I tried very hard to relieve the pain with yoga, exercises, and antacids. Nothing worked, and eventually the pain was so excruciating I had to call an ambulance to take me to the emergency room at a nearby hospital.

My surgery was almost immediate after I arrived. Apparently, after years of suffering from occasional lower abdominal pain because of adhesions (scar tissue) from prior surgeries, my intestines had become twisted and completely blocked because of them. The surgeon opened me up wide and worked to remove the adhesions, and thus began a long, difficult recovery.

You'd think my bikini days are over, but no. I'll still wear one. Christina Zenato convinced me it's the best way to stay warm on the water. Yes, I have scars—I'm a patchwork quilt after 2 total hips, gallbladder removal, pinned wrist and more—but I'm 62 and I don't care about the scars anymore. I just care about being as healthy as I can be. :)

Nasal gastric tubes could definitely be used as torture devices . . .

I was "NPO" for over a week (nothing by mouth) which meant I could only suck on ice chips. I was hydrated and fed intravenously with TPN or Total Parenteral Nutrition and eventually had a PICC line (Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter). The PICC could easily freak some folks out because the line looks a foot long, particularly when it comes out of your brachial vein.

The original pain that brought me in was horrible, but the "healing" pain, the NG tube, confinement to bed and more interventions made the entire experience much worse. The few "lights" in the dark were the wonderful nursing staff on the 2nd floor Med Surg, and my surgeon, who was just a gem. He checked on me every day, first thing in the morning, and I made sure I was awake when he made his rounds. We talked about my labs and images, and I was grateful that he listened to me as we moved forward.

Ah, the joys of having the gastric fluids sucked from your belly. I'm a retired forensic nurse and midwife--and even I found that unpleasant.

With 2 ports, I could be "fed" and given medication through one port, and they could draw blood through the other.

After the week with no food, I was approved to start eating. First clear liquids, then "full liquids" and a few days after that I moved on to small solid foods. The PICC was removed during that second week, and things looked like they were improving. I went home at close to the end of week two.

I was home for just one day before the abdominal pain returned. The pain was horrible—much like before. I felt increasing pressure on my inside—so forceful it felt like I was going to explode. I dreaded having to go back to the hospital. I did everything I could to put my house in order before I left (which probably wasn't good for me) and then got in my car and drove to my Veteran Outpatient Clinic in Charlottesville. They referred me right away.

Again, I ended up in the emergency room, but the first intervention this time was pain medication and I.V. fluids. I went back to an "NPO" status and ended up on TPN again with another PICC line. I was in the hospital on the med-surg floor for another week (three weeks now in the hospital). After being there four days, I was allowed clear fluids by mouth. Two days latter, I was advanced to full liquids. I left the hospital still on a full liquid diet, but finally it seemed as if I was doing better.

During that time, one of my best friends ever came to visit me and help me out. My friend Alice and I have known each other since the 1980s and she was the one who lit the fuse that helped me return to martial arts after my husband, Jim, died. She painted my upstairs room for me, which I'm trying to turn into a Dr. Who room, and taught me how to play "Magic the Gathering," which still mystifies me, but I'm trying to learn more now.

(*Alice teaching me "Magic the Gathering" and our morning tea in the kitchen!)

When I started back to karate that Tuesday, I took her to my Shotokan lesson, and was thrilled to have Shihan Silverman, Alice and I perform Gojushiho-Sho (gently) together. That was so much fun!

Still, the entire time, my G.I. system was in pain getting back on track. It felt like ground glass and steel wool were moving through my intestines. My bowels were unpredictable, and I lived in anxiety as to whether or not I'd make it to the bathroom in time. In truth, now that I'm 6-weeks post-op, I still do.

What I've found during this most painful and challenging time is that you learn how important the people in your life are, and how much people care for you. My son-in-law, Ché moved my new refrigerator into the kitchen after Lowes just left it on my porch. He had to take the doors off it and move things around to get it in there, but my new fridge is lovely and even makes ice! (A luxury). He worked very hard to do this, and he weed-eated all of the tall grass and weeds from around the back side of my fence (a tough job!).

My daughter, Kira, came and fed the kitties and the hummingbirds, particularly that last week when I had to return to the hospital. Before that, I'd asked my pet-sitter to help me because I didn't want my daughter to have to juggle night shift on Labor and Delivery and caring for her 1-year-old (my dear grand-daughter) while trying to take care of my home. In the end, she managed, and did great, but I know it wasn't easy.

My neighbor, Gary, visited me once in the hospital, and constantly offered (and still offers) to help me with whatever he can. He's the best guy, and a great friend, but I hate to ask him for much because he's always so busy working and taking care of other folks too.

My neighbors down the road, Susan and Scott, are always checking on me and tell me that if I need anything, to let them know. They are wonderful to have nearby. So are Amy and Willie, who live down the street in our area.

And my son, Sean, kept in touch, making sure I was okay, as did my adopted Mother, my Pops and Mama Bettie, my dear Auntie and my sweetest friend Gina. There were several friends from my Shorin-Ken and Muso Chishin Ryu group who continued to check on me as well (Thank you Lorraine, Patrick and Kim!). Shihan Silverman and Sensei Renae from LMKA Shotokan were very kind to inquire how I was, and were ready to help at any time. Many others were kind enough to check on me and ask me if I needed anything—and I'm grateful for them all. It's so hard to mention everyone, because I was just amazed at how many folks took time to contact me and wish me well (Thank you, all of you!). It is times like this that it's nice that people show they care—even though there's not much anyone can really do to make things better.

Overall, I hated being ill, and still detest my limitations, because I can't do as much for others—but I'm on the mend. I have martial arts events coming up, and I'd wanted to be in top shape in September and October, but now it looks like I'll have to settle for just getting through the events with the best "self" I have at the time. I'm fortunate because some training can be done on Zoom, and that makes my GI/bathroom concerns easier to deal with. I'm grateful to my Iaido Sempai/ instructor, Lorraine—and ODU training group—for the ability to use Zoom for training.

And for now—I'll keep moving forward, despite the disappointment of having muscle wasting, increased weakness and an unpredictable body. I won't give up—and I'll keep working toward self-improvement because THAT is my own best path. It's the goal that I've set for myself--to always work toward improvement of all that I can--to be a better me today than I was yesterday.

And so now it's time to practice some karate. :)