In Articulo Mortis

On Self-Worth

2009-01-29T15:29:00.007-06:00

When attempting to tackle a concept as large and unwieldy as the human condition, one cannot overstate the importance of adequately defining terms and rendering the discussion in as discrete and manageable a fashion as possible. But while that may sound simple enough, such points of interest are by definition broad as well as highly integrative, and attempting to more fully and precisely explain them is understandably problematic. Still, ‘difficult’ tasks should not be mistaken for ‘impossible’ ones, as the component pieces of even the most cumbersomely complex and abstract of wholes remain susceptible to more rigorous and definite forms of examination.

With all that said, this in no way contends that the totality of human experience somehow lends itself to pithy encapsulation. It is clearly not some type of perfectly reducible phenomenon, and treating it as such is an excellent way to spin one's introspective wheels. However, that fact does not preclude more selective scrutiny, even when such quasi-philosophical examinations remain incapable of meeting the rigidly empirical burden of proof demanded from the hard(er) sciences. In both academic and practical terms, teasing apart and elucidating the intricacies of the greater conceptual whole can oftentimes help to demystify the sum of its parts.

So, why all the exposition? On the one hand, I rather enjoy thinking about and discussing these kinds of things, and writing is a helpful way of ordering my thoughts. It also seemed as though some explanatory groundwork ought to be laid before launching into any terribly ambitious (series of) musings, and the above will perhaps also provide some justification for my piecemeal approach to assessment (the incremental nature of all blogging notwithstanding). Still, the purpose of this post is not to sing the praises of reductionist reasoning, although I'm clearly a fan; rather, the preceding serves as something of an overwrought segue to discussing this post's namesake subject: self-worth.

The way we conceive of ourselves reverberates in our every perception as well as action, and those valuations invariably embolden or constrain us accordingly. These self-assessing interplays are dynamic as well as self-sustaining--e.g., we're told that confidence begets greater confidence just as much as insecurity is a festering psycho-emotional wound that will only worsen if left untreated. Yet, even the example of confidence (or the lack thereof) remains a direct outgrowth of the value we place upon ourselves, both in a generalized as well as domain-specific sense, and improving upon that appraisal's many offshoots necessitates a more foundational type of attention.

The mere idea of such self-service at any level initially possesses a decidedly ambiguous quality, and working to genuinely recast one's own self-image in a more positive and enabling light promises to be even more so. This is particularly true for those who are disinclined towards what may tend to be seen as undue self-aggrandizement or even outright egotism, and for the "hopelessly modest" amongst us--of which I consider myself to be a card-carrying member--doing so in an even limited sense often feels awkward or disingenuous (or worse). Now, this is not to be confused with actively deluding oneself, which is at best a stop-gap solution to an essentially systemic problem. Other, less delusory forms of self-talk are clearly effective (and even warranted) under certain circumstances, but they too must be firmly grounded in reality to be healthy and of any lasting benefit.

The question then becomes of what practical use any of the above really is, particularly since much of it surely appears to be little more than a vacuous rehashing of "pop self-help." Acknowledging the need to shore up one's self-image is certainly nothing new, and the many benefits to doing so are equally evident. But the "how" of the process seems much more elusive, and while I imagine that this too is far from wholly original, one possible remedy lies in the aforementioned piecemeal approach to self-examination: identify that which is "quintessentially you"--i.e., those constructively unique traits that meaningfully distinguish you from others--and work from there. This is not an excuse to indulge in banal comparisons or otherwise exacerbate prior inclinations towards self-deprecation; instead, identify at least one or two things that really set you apart from the crowd and then proceed to revel in them.

Exactly what these things are is largely unimportant, so long as they are personally significant. Literally anything from more conventional fandoms to the weirdest, most endearing and idiosyncratic minutia is fair game: it could be a flair for Italian cooking, a love of board games, an affinity for Bach, or whatever else. This kind of authentic and uncompromising "celebration of self" can then serve as an anchor of sorts--an entirely different kind of foundation to build upon, if you will--since any such attempts at personal elevation are doomed to fail if we cannot truly and unabashedly enjoy those things which most centrally define us.

Perhaps this suggestion appears facile or even cliché at first blush, but I think it has considerable pragmatic value. Zeroing in on these kinds of things in particular allows for a more honest assessment of what one actually values and enjoys, but at the same time it also displaces many of the self-deprecating tendencies that promote and then sustain poor self-image. I apologize to any whom I unknowingly plagiarize in saying this, but to truly value each other we must first value ourselves. This is neither conceit nor narcissistic preoccupation, but it is an acknowledgment that we are all exceptional in myriad ways, and only a recognition and genuine appreciation of those qualities can serve as a stable basis for one's professional as well as personal pursuits.

Openings Links in New Windows/Tabs

2009-01-02T21:59:00.023-06:00

To round out tonight's entirely unrelated pair of postings, this primer helped me restore all of my Noteworthy Links to their classic template behavior, which was to open in new windows or tabs when clicked. Admittedly, this is far removed from my usual blogging fare, but it took me long enough to find this info that I may as well do my part to spread the word.

Also, if you're doing everything exactly right but keep getting an error when trying to preview or save your template, try to make the changes in IE. Although I make such a recommendation very reluctantly, this particular build (3.05) of Firefox may be just a bit touchy. Get in, get out, and get back to your non-Microsoft browser of choice--go go go!

A Humorous Aside...

2009-01-02T20:04:00.026-06:00

I've got something of a dark sense of humor under even the best of circumstances, so I couldn't resist picking one of these shirts up after spotting them through ArmsControlWonk. To quote Woot's delicious geekiness at some length...

Baby’s Got An Atom Bomb

First of all, no one even really cared about making one until that kid who used to live on the other end of the street sent all his friends to knock over our snowman. You can’t just let that go. We took some time to mourn, sure, but then we got right to work. While our ground troops did their part, our best minds went to work to create a new idea that could decisively end the conflict once and for all.

In hindsight, everyone can wonder if it was moral, but there was no question in our minds then. Thousands of snowballs were saved by our actions, and we forced a complete surrender. We were the kings of the block, no question. But secrets have a way of getting out.

People say all this buildup is for nothing and that we should put that money towards social programs to put carrot noses back on snowmen. And no one is going to say carrot noses aren’t important. But maybe there’s a bigger picture here. Maybe it’s time to worry about what’s best for the Arctic Skeleton Empire as a whole.
***

This shirt was designed by: Steven Lefcourt, who swears to you that he did not trace this image from a photo of some broccoli. Go on, gif it up and check.

Wear this shirt: in winter, of course. Immunity to cold.

Don’t wear this shirt: around clerics of equal or higher level. And some paladins, right? It’s been a while since we played, we might need to look this stuff up.

This shirt tells the world: “There will always be a need for mittens. No matter what.”

We call this color: Wight

In any case, some nerdy post-apocalyptic cheer seems like precisely the right way to ring in the New Year.

Unintended Neglect...

2008-12-20T09:48:00.007-06:00

Although I have no delusions regarding the size of my readership, I actually did have several updates slated for the past couple months that never quite came to fruition. Needless to say, my final semester's gamut of paper-writing was far more labor intensive than expected, but I'll try to get back on the rhetorical wagon within the next few weeks. (In case anyone is wondering, a recent Blogger update ate my original template for breakfast, but I'll just leave the formatting as-is in the event that anyone is browsing at 800x600.)

Otherwise, I'm pushing the prospect of grad school to the back burner for now and looking for a job locally. My first (and ideal) avenue of pursuit will actually be with the university I just graduated from, likely in some type of technical and/or office support role, which would eventually serve as an excellent springboard for jumping back into the academic grind in a logistical as well as financial sense (go-go tuition waivers for full-time employees). So, if I don't post again prior to the holiday, be safe and enjoy the three Gs: good food, good times, and good company.

Mini-Update

2008-10-21T18:26:00.008-05:00

I'd like to say that I haven't exactly been slacking on the blog, but school has been far from accommodating for a while now. Regardless, I made the yearly visit to my pulmonologist a few months back but neglected to mention that I've officially returned to "normal" pulmonary health. The determination was made via a lung function test, which is conducted in a slick little hermetically sealed capsule that allows for the proper measurement of lung capacity, the rate at which air can be moved to and from the lungs, and even how capable the lungs are at both oxygenating and removing carbon dioxide from the blood. Nifty, eh?

Now, although I'm only sitting at the very bottom (80%) of the normal range for my particular demographic, this has been achieved in spite of the temporary limitations that past injuries have placed on both the intensity and types of exercise I can sustain. In light of this reality and the fact that those constraints are slowly falling by the wayside, I'd say that I'm doing quite well and will be able to make considerable progress in the coming 6-12 months, particularly when I can resume more intensive conditioning protocols sometime next year.

In any case, it will likely be a couple more months before I can return to my martial arts club or begin gradually reintroducing the aforementioned higher intensity stuff, but even the imminent prospect of that "return to form" is quite heartening. I've said it before, but it's worth saying again: nothing worthwhile that we seek to achieve is ever going to be easy, but few things will convey a greater sense of purpose or a more significant degree of mental, emotional, and even spiritual endurance than their avid pursuit.

Link Updates and Quotations Galore...

2008-06-30T22:21:00.005-05:00

I've been overhauling and updating my links section over the past few days, and I feel it's already become substantially more useful. Further revision and additions are all but certain, but I'm still fairly pleased, as the current list certainly has a far more robust and representative feel to it than past iterations. I'll also be continuing the gradual shift away from mere surgical updates and the like, so don't be surprised by my tangential drift as time goes on. Otherwise, lest this post be confused with mere digital housekeeping, allow me to leave off with a few personally motivating quotations:

"Ultimately, the only power to which man should aspire is that which he exercises over himself." - Elie Wiesel

"We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit." - Aristotle

"Mastering others is strength. Mastering yourself is true power." - Lao Tzu

"The first and the best victory is to conquer self." - Plato

And a couple longer ones...

"Man can learn self-discipline without becoming ascetic; he can be wise without waiting to be old; he can be influential without waiting for status. Man can sharpen his ability to distinguish between matters of principle and matters of preference, but only if we have a wise interplay between time and truth, between minutes and morality." - Neal A. Maxwell

"Men are anxious to improve their circumstances, but are unwilling to improve themselves; they therefore remain bound. The man who does not shrink from self-crucifixion can never fail to accomplish the object upon which his heart is set. This is true of earthly as of heavenly things. Even the man whose object is to acquire wealth must be prepared to make great personal sacrifices before he can accomplish his object; and how much more so he who would realize a strong and well-poised life." - James Allen

Done and Done

2008-06-25T20:42:00.011-05:00

The procedure went extremely well. Although it will take at least a few weeks for the swelling to subside and get my sinuses wholly mucked out, I can already breathe far better. My sense of smell has also improved, although that is clearly something of a double-edged sword. Regardless, both of my surgeons did a masterful job, as I have nothing in the way of discernible bruising and am virtually pain free (the Vicodin was once again not required).

Even though it'll be several months before I'd go so far as to declare myself fully healed, if present trends are any indication, I'll likely be feeling like a million bucks in relatively short order. I still have a few follow-up appointments to make good on, but I'm incredibly pleased to finally be done and able to bookend my surgical experiences on such a positive note.

Four-Year Anniversary

2008-06-08T21:12:00.008-05:00

I've thought about resuming my digital prattling for a while now, and tonight seems like a particularly fitting time to do so. This progress report is something of a mixed bag, but I've clearly made positive net gains in all directions: My pectorals have both healed up reasonably well, but they've still got a ways to go in terms of general strengthening; my patellar tendon discomfort is now entirely confined to the "good sore" brought about by my eccentrically-focused rehabilitative/prehabilitative regimen (forevermore referred to as re/prehab), although at least a couple more months of "good behavior" will likely be required before I feel confident in resuming higher impact exercise; and even my rather tenacious tennis elbow is gradually succumbing to a combination of consistent forearm work, stretching, and myofascial release.

I'd be remiss in claiming complete victory over all my soft tissue injuries at this point, but persistence coupled with "all due discretion" in program design seems to be a winning formula, and keeping a consistent focus on active recovery, massage, and other restorative techniques in tandem with exercise is slowly but surely winning the day.

In other news, I'll be having my final corrective surgery later this month. In this case two tag-teaming ENTs (ear, nose and throat specialists) will be righting my almost laughably deviated septum and unblocking the sinuses above my right eye, which should vastly improve my ability to breathe and perhaps even allow for a semi-normal sense of smell. Realigning the septum is probably at least somewhat optional, although it may be playing a major role in my existing sinus blockage, but "unplugging" my sinuses is a definite must. (While I can't presently do the explanation any justice, it was made very clear to me that not having this structural correction would invariably cause major problems later in life.)

I'm hesitant to speculate about the expected discomfort level for this one, but if a recent eye procedure is any indication, I may be in for a rather un-fun time. Regardless, wrapping up any and all surgical necessities while I'm young and still insured under at least one of my parents seems prudent, and despite my tendency to procrastinate in certain areas, it would be foolish to waste the relative leeway that the "college life" affords me by putting anything off until later.

Otherwise, that'll be enough for today. I'll keep this updated in the aftermath of my upcoming surgery, but most of my postings from here on out will (hopefully) have a decidedly non-surgical spin to them.

Hiatus...

2007-09-06T20:16:00.003-05:00

As is probably obvious, I'm taking something of a blogging break. I've been really buckling down and trying to bring my pectoral and patellar issues into line, so I'm sliding the blog to the back burner for now. The sense of perpetual entrapment that comes with unyielding injury is tiresome, but my situation will not be improved by my digital soapbox moments. As such, I'll leave off with this:

"If you do not conquer self, you will be conquered by self." - Napoleon Hill

Three-Year Anniversary

2007-06-11T09:38:00.002-05:00

Last Friday was the three-year anniversary of my accident, and while I don't mean to belabor the obvious, I can't help but reflect on what I've found to be a very important truism: nothing worthwhile is ever easy. Although hardship may not be an equal opportunity employer, life will challenge us all in some way, and it is the act of rising to and then surmounting those difficulties that gives our lives meaningful shape.

Sound clichéd? Perhaps. But I prefer to think of it as one of those truths whose obviousness is essential to its widespread anonymity. Whenever any meaningful degree of frustration rears its ugly head, I find myself returning to that very maxim to shore up my typical stoicism.

However, don't mistake my ramblings as applying only to cases of severe injury or hardship. The realization that anything worth doing is going to require a very real and active investment of self is something that transcends the entire spectrum of potential difficulty; it is a powerful and perhaps daunting fact, but I honestly consider it to be one of the best and most realistic ways to prepare yourself for the thornier side of life.

If overcoming adversity in its many forms were easy, then what accomplishment could possibly be worthwhile? Honestly, I find great comfort in this reality, as it makes any personal victory--regardless of size--far sweeter. Ultimately, while I may have little choice, I prefer to earn my victories.

Knees, Pecs, and Bronchoscopies...

2007-05-31T20:05:00.002-05:00

As a quick point of clarification, my PCL is loose by virtue of being partially torn; additionally, I mischaracterized the PCL's role to a certain extent, as it could more appropriately be described as preventing posterior femoral movement in relation to the tibia. I don't have the formal education necessary to really rattle my semantic physiological saber, but I still like to correct myself when and where possible.

My understanding of the injury was clarified by my new PT, who has served me with a license to abuse myself through various strengthening exercises and proprioceptive and balance work. Color me pleased, as it's incredibly enjoyable to be given a proverbial green light in at least part of my workout regimen.

Also, I've shed my somewhat ad hoc cross-tendon braces (ace bandages are amazingly versatile) far earlier than expected and started eccentrically loading my patellar tendons. That fits nicely into my present strengthening regimen, but it's especially satisfying to drop the "crutch" of constantly bracing myself.

Although it's certainly quite weak, my right pec seems to have finally healed up. I'm still babying it somewhat, as I'd like to avoid any relapses into injury, but I'm holding off on any direct strength work until the same can be said for my left side; I already have enough unilateral discrepancies, so I'll wait until I can recruit both sides without pain before starting on any pectoral rehab work.

I've also recently undergone yet another bronchoscopy to check my airway for signs of stenosis, and, as before, things are all clear. Because of my string of positive showings post-stint removal, I'll no longer need to get scoped yearly; instead, I can simply see the good doctor annually to have some (relatively) simple breathing tests done to check for any indicators of trouble.

Good news all around, so I'll wrap it at that.

Knee Troubles Update...

2007-05-09T20:53:00.001-05:00

I had an appointment with a local orthopedist this afternoon, and although I have something of a mixed bag of good and bad news, the positives certainly outweigh the negatives.

I don't have any ligament tears to speak of, but I do have a "loose PCL" on my left side. As the doctor indicated, my PCL is failing to prevent posterior (backward) movement of my tibia (shin bone). The occasional shifting sensation is rather uncomfortable, but it's not painful or representative of any major knee instability in my case; instead, it's a long-undiagnosed byproduct of the blunt force trauma from my accident.

In other good news, I should be hitting the rehab circuit soon for a few weeks of *insert doctor's orders here*. I'm not sure what that will entail exactly, but I don't expect the rehabilitative paradigm to be rocked anytime soon, especially since I can't exactly rehab this injury away. Regardless, I'm still looking forward to meeting yet another new therapist (really; I'm serious).

As alluded to above, this isn't something that's just going to "get better," and I am a poor candidate for PCL surgery for two very important reasons: knee stability is not significantly compromised by the looseness (remember, it's not torn), and I'm no upper-echelon athlete indulging in any of the more physically abusive (and abrupt) sports and activities that need a knee as close to physiological perfection as possible.

Instead, I should brace it when and where appropriate and avoid--although this one seemed pretty obvious--any extreme lower-body twisting motions and be careful with other, more conservative movements (certain stances and the like come to mind). Fortunately this is pretty weak bad news, as I had never really planned on indulging in any crazy rotational plyometric work anyway. Still, this is all good to know and will help me to better plan my short- and long-term workout goals around my unique biomechanical limitations.

This recent revelation aside, I still need to focus on getting my knee feeling better if I'm to begin eccentrically tackling my patellar issues. Additionally, I could almost consider myself at that precious (and presently hypothetical) "baseline of health" if I can also manage to tame my tennis elbow and pectoral issues in the coming months, but I'll focus on the boon of not needing knee surgery for now.

Photographs: Part 3

2007-05-06T11:02:00.002-05:00

I'm reluctant to post pictures of either the doe or her fawn at this point, as they are quite graphic and--despite my tendencies towards full disclosure--I don't see the purpose of showcasing that degree of carnage.

Instead, these are pictures of the truck/trailer combo that I veered into after hitting the deer. As previously mentioned, the vehicle's occupants (thankfully) suffered no serious injury, but my Saturn SL1 was never destined to fare particularly well against anything this large...

Knee Troubles...

2007-04-12T21:32:00.001-05:00

Well, I seem to have screwed up my left knee this past Monday. It appears as if switching up my typical free-standing bodyweight squats with ones done against the wall with a physioball is a bad idea, as the lack of true balancing seems to allow me to lapse into poor form without fully realizing it. Apparently my knee didn't appreciate that type of shearing force, so I've set up a doctor's appointment for this coming Tuesday, where I can hopefully get at least a general idea as to what I've done to myself. He or she will only be a general practitioner, but they can at least assess the obvious and prescribe an MRI if need be. Hopefully it's nothing severe, but I'll do the usual: hope for the best, prepare for the worst.

As the saying goes, two steps forward, one step back. Or perhaps it was the other way around?

Photographs: Part 2

2007-03-24T11:04:00.002-05:00

As promised, here is another set of photos that were selected to more specifically showcase the car's damage up-close. But as another point of clarification, most (emphasis on "most") of the carnage strewn about the car's interior is from the deer; that is, for example, the deer's heart ejected onto the floor of the passenger side, but the blood saturation on the left side of the driver's seat is all me. You can also see a pair of seemingly-intact Adidas Sambas in the vehicle, and I honestly think it unfortunate that they were never recovered.

With very few exceptions, the pictures are only going to become progressively more graphic from here on out; if you're bothered by blood, stray animal tissues, involuntary organ donation, or anything similarly unsettling, do yourself a favor and don't view any more of the picture posts.

Anyway...

Orthopedic Update...

2007-03-24T11:01:00.013-05:00

I forgot to mention this, but the February checkup with my orthopedic surgeon went very well; my right femur is entirely healed--the bone stim, raw milk, and heavily eccentric squatting did the trick--and I have been officially discharged from yet another "major player" in my steadily-declining medical entourage.

To be clear, it is not at all that any doctor at any stage of the process has been unnecessary or inadequate, but this doctor in particular is one of the medical "all stars" that has been absolutely instrumental in putting me back together; as happy as I am to have wrapped on my foreseeable orthopedic endeavors, it is at least somewhat bittersweet, as this doctor and his staff were a genuine pleasure to work with (and be worked on by).

In other good news, my surgeon clued me in to Wolff's law when I informed him that I no longer desired any orthopedic intervention to remove the myositis ossificans in my left quadriceps. Honestly, Wikipedia does a better job of summing it up than I ever could (emphasis added):

Wolff's law is a theory developed by the German Anatomist/Surgeon Julius Wolff (1835-1902) in the 19th century that states that bone in a healthy person or animal will adapt to the loads it is placed under. If loading on a particular bone increases, the bone will remodel itself over time to become stronger to resist that sort of loading. The converse is true as well: if the loading on a bone decreases, the bone will be adapted and become weaker.

That's good to hear, as my undesired "extra" bone will gradually remodel itself over time and at least partially wear down, which will certainly ease the biomechanical discomfort of having an irregularly shaped lump of bone taking up residence in my musculature.

Photographs: Part 1

2007-02-24T22:14:00.002-06:00

Even though I like to think that my narrative skills have painted a sufficiently vivid picture, I've mulled over the prospects of posting photographs for some time; consequently, my decision to do so is not an effort to establish further credibility amongst my scant readership, as I offer my story and related musings on an "as is" basis; I feel no need or desire to "prove" that what I claim is fact, but I do feel that certain choice pictures can create a far more tangible effect than what mere words can accomplish.

I will post subsequent pictorials at some point in the next few weeks, but I've opted for broader shots here to characterize the general devastation.

Pulmonology and Massage...

2007-02-13T15:04:00.001-06:00

I'm a little late in getting this up, but the checkup with my pulmonologist was very positive; I'll still get scoped sometime this summer, but after a series of abbreviated breathing tests, it was determined that my airways and lungs are perfectly clear and my overall pulmonary health has returned to normal levels.

That's an excellent development, and the news of further bronchoscopies was neither surprising nor disheartening; barring any unprecedented leaps in medical technology (molecular nanotechnology, anyone?), I've always known that I'll require consistent endoscopic examination due to the dangers of recurring bronchial stenosis, so calling such a revelation "news" is probably a misnomer.

In other news, a good friend of mine also happens to be an incredibly talented masseuse, and she and I were finally able to get together last Tuesday, where she proceeded to both demonstrate her occupational talents and avail me of interesting and insightful conversation. Not only did she alleviate a great deal of my rotator cuff, pectoral, and upper back pains, but she also worked my shoulders through a previously unattainable range of motion, which really did wonders for my pain level. We're planning on meeting on a weekly basis for the foreseeable future, so suffice it to say that I'm really looking forward to my weekly sessions and eagerly await this Thursday's massage.

Checkups '07...

2007-02-05T21:34:00.002-06:00

I'll be having my normal retinue of checkups over the next couple months, starting with my pulmonologist this Friday. It's likely that I'll be getting another bronchoscopy sometime this year, so I'm guessing that I'll be scoped again in the coming months (perhaps during Spring Break?).

I'm also slated to see my orthopedic surgeon on the 28th of this month, which could very well mark the conclusion of my bone stim usage--assuming bone growth is as expected around the osteotomy site. Although my femur obviously doesn't feel any different structurally, I'm reasonably confident of a positive verdict this time around, as I've worn that accursed stim pretty reliably (easily greater than 90% of the prescribed time). I'll also recruit him to take a semi-official look at my pec and shoulder issues, as he should be able to more or less verify that I dodged a bullet this time around.

And although it's presently being rescheduled, I'll likely be in to see my neural ophthalmologist at some point in March, where I can look forward to some ridiculously dilated pupils accompanied by excruciatingly bright lights.

Accident History: Part 10

2007-01-20T20:55:00.003-06:00

With my rehabilitative days seemingly over, I began my long and setback-ridden road to greater whole body recovery (a presently incomplete objective, mind you). In the spirit of returning to my former physical ambitions, I made a less than graceful return to my martial arts club. Things progressed at a relatively safe clip at first, with my instructor clamping down on any particularly extreme exertions, which were themselves woefully underwhelming due to my heavily deconditioned and gimpy state. But that didn't quite last.

It wasn't long before (in hindsight of course) it became apparent that I was playing well above my physical paygrade, and having returned to intermittent class attendance around Christmas time, it couldn't have been more than a couple months before I threw out both groins (crescent kicks be damned) and then repeatedly attempted to do the undoable: work through them. This refusal to immediately withdraw locked me into an short-lived cycle of reinjury, which eventually forced me to bow out of class for the indefinite future (no pun intended).

So began a trend, one that I think I always recognized to a certain degree, but have only now fully wrapped my brain around. Other injuries followed, some more or less serious, some my fault and others not. Although exact chronologies are a little lost on me, I coughed myself into two inguinal hernias, but there was (for once) nothing I could do about it. My musculature was obviously still quite atrophied and unbalanced, and as I was constantly hacking up a technicolor assortment of mucus and other icky business as my lungs diligently tried to cleanse themselves, it was really only a matter of time before I herniated myself. My abdominal wall, which really had held up remarkably well over all those months of deep-throated coughing, finally gave, resulting in two consecutive hernia operations. The first was around Christmas time that year, and the other fell just days before my birthday in February of '06 (as you'll come to see, timing is my specialty).

Hernias suck. There's really not much more to say about it. Once again, my parents came through in fine style and helped me out by taking some time off work. Eventually I would get used to the synthetic mesh that now inhabits my lower abdomen, but I don't want to get ahead of myself here.

I had another orthopedic surgery planned for late in '05, but that surgery was delayed by the unexpected first herniation and requisite procedure (although I herniated both sides, the right side was not nearly as bad and was not recognized until later, hence the second surgery two months after the first). So my orthopedic surgery--a procedure to shorten my healthy right-leg by an inch due to the length discrepancies between my left and right femurs at the time--finally got underway in January of '06.

Now, I've prided myself on having a particularly high pain tolerance and for that reason have opted out of my various pain medications at different times (and because the pain was preferable to constipation, believe it or not), but this was not one of those times. This hurt. A lot. I also had to hold down for at least one overnight in the hospital (it may have been two, but I'm no longer sure), and here was where I came to appreciate the solitude of my earlier inpatient days, as my neighbor constantly rivaled the surrounding electronics and other machines with his snoring and other horrible and mysterious noises. But I digress...

It was under this context--almost miraculously returned to a near-perfect symmetry of femur length on both sides--that I returned to rehab, albeit much closer to home this time (which would still delay my full-fledged return to college until the Summer of '06). Once again, I benefited from apparent paragons in the therapeutic profession. This rehabilitative episode was interrupted twice, once for the second hernia surgery, and then once again to pull two screws out of my recently-embattled right leg. Both sidelined me for at least a couple weeks, but that fact was particularly damning after the screw removal, as the atrophy that occurred in my right quad during that time coupled with the loss of load-bearing capacity in that femur's titanium rod caused me to develop a particularly nasty case of patellar tendonitis (although tendinosis was a more likely diagnosis, especially considering the injury's present longevity) when I returned to loading exercises. Sigh.

Another irritating physical hurdle, but one that I have mostly (read: mostly, not entirely) cleared as of now. I've been out of my most recent bout of rehab for some months, but we're still not quite up to speed yet. I also developed a rather interesting flare-up of tennis elbow on my left arm (more tendonitis/osis) due to my months on any combination of crutches, a single crutch, or a cane. That also falls under the mostly resolved but still lingering category as of now. The list goes on, though...

We finally get to the injuries that I'm clearly completely at fault for. To start out with my most ridiculously bone-headed maneuver (but not most painful) misadventure thus far, I thought it would be prudent to start back-bridging as a component of my recreational workout regimen. Unfortunately, making excellent progress and getting the bridge position all the way onto my forehead without great difficulty (hand-supported, of course) after several weeks of work wasn't quite enough for me; instead, I decided to push for that nose contact. Bad move. I pulled both external obliques (just like my groin pulls, my left was far worse than my right side, but still...). Ouch. Abdominal strains--like hernias--also suck, as there is little to nothing that can be done physically that doesn't somehow engage the core. Another "smart" move on my part. (And let's just not talk about my subsequent reinjury a few weeks later, when I thought that a "little" bit of bridge work was again in my best interests as I was starting to feel a little better.) Those strains, like the aforementioned tendon issues, are not fully resolved, but they have made significant progress and no longer plague my every movement.

To wind out this list, I'll move on to the present king of my self-injury moments. I managed these--unsurprisingly--near Christmas of '06. I was building on at least a couple months of sensible home workouts, and while I still pushed, I generally tended to push within the boundaries imposed by my present physical limitations. I found a way around my streak of good behavior, though it certainly wasn't intentional.

I had been working heavily eccentric bodyweight exercises to combat the patellar issue I was dealing with, and I had for some weeks decided to apply that methodology to my tennis elbow. Specifics are irrelevant and confounding, but suffice it to say that much of the eccentric loading I placed on my left arm (and right arm, too, as I was trying to remain relatively balanced) was being displaced into my shoulders because both arms were unsupported throughout their entire range of motion. Now, as I'm sure that anyone fond of injury forecasting might have guessed, we've now entered the notorious badlands of rotator cuff injury. But that's not all, and the wear and tear I was placing on those surprisingly delicate shoulder protectors was not yet apparent to me. Time for another self-imposed blunder...

At the conclusion of a rather intense workout, I brought everything to a close with a finisher. Now, typically this was enjoyably painful (every exercise enthusiast knows of what I speak: the glorious burn), but for some unfathomable reason, I opted for a truly ball-busting set of isometric chest presses against my basement wall. It didn't go well, but the real kicker is that I didn't even feel it until later. This departure from rationality coupled with the as-of-yet unknown rotator cuff issues created a dangerous synergy, resulting in two enormously painful pec strains (once again, with the left being significantly worse than the right).

My seemingly inevitable bouts of injury aggravation then proceeded on cue some weeks later during my Christmas break. My sister returned to my parent's house, which left me to tend the house for an easy week off--or so I thought. I had made some modest progress on the strains (as in there wasn't much passive pain), but having to keep a house running and--ironically enough--doing dishes is what tore me up again. I had tried being careful, but it just didn't quite work out. As the cliché goes, I am certainly my own worst enemy, but despite the almost laughable idiocy of my actions, I sincerely hope that someone (really, I'm serious, anyone) will peruse this narrative and realize that perhaps taking it just a little easier might be the smartest, most productive move of all.

So, now I sit here, typing away into my corner of the Blogosphere. Both groins feel relatively OK, my abdominal strains don't seem to trouble me much anymore, my tennis elbow seems mostly dormant, and my patellar tendonosis--while still needing some work--seems to fall in line most of the time. Pretty much all that remains is the nagging pain of my pec strains, and the atrophied state of my rotator cuff musculature, which will go unaddressed until my pectoral issues are resolved. While I believe that this unfortunate menagerie of injuries will eventually heal on its own (having talked to an athletic trainer friend of mine) with appropriate doses of time, ice, and rehabilitative exercise, I sincerely hope that no surgical intervention will be required. This was simply the final push, shoving my body past yet another threshold it was unprepared and unwilling to cross, and I will feel incredibly lucky to dodge the surgeon's scalpel for once.

It's not that it has taken me this many injuries and a legacy of pain to "get it." I think I've always understood, at least at some level, that discretion really is the better part of valor. But like anything else that is only understood in theoretical shades, these present injuries are the dastardly jolt that I apparently needed to thrust my understanding into the sphere of tangible reality. Now, with my workouts appropriately neutered and lacking in all upper-body movements, I sit here, winding my story down to the present day. I'm sure I'll step into the time machine from time to time, as I seem prone to periodically shake loose various anecdotes and introspections, be they deeply philosophical or utterly mundane, and pass them on to whoever will listen.

Accident History: Part 9

2007-01-15T18:52:00.008-06:00

As my break draws to a close, let me ratchet up the pace to get things contemporary.

The most profound difference as I transitioned to outpatient therapies was simple: I was finally back home. I hadn’t yet returned to driving, but my family once again came through, making the 15-20 minute drive to a neighboring town as needed, and often times hanging out in the waiting area until I was done (usually 2-3 collective hours per session).

The therapies themselves don’t warrant much in the way of specifics: most were logical progressions of former exercises (both physical, occupational, and cognitive) from my inpatient experience. I continued to make very steady progress in the physical therapies, and despite a bit of a bumpy start in my speech therapy, I completed the entire regimen in relatively short order.

Once again, my claim to success is not entirely my own, as the credit is spread evenly amongst yet another team of highly qualified, skilled, and compassionate therapists and personnel; their outstanding and adaptive approaches helped to propel me out of outpatient treatments in a mere three or four months (I'm embarrassingly short on the exact duraction, but 3.5 months sounds about right).

I honestly wish that I could name names within this narrative, as I think that the contributions of just about everyone at every step of the way was nothing short of exceptional, but I’ll stick to my guns and hold the line of anonymity. But should anyone who has come to know me through any stage of my treatment and recovery ever chance down my lane of the Blogosphere, my heartfelt thanks goes out to you: I would not be where I am today without your unwavering diligence, skill, and--most importantly--your compassion.

Time Off...

2006-12-29T09:58:00.001-06:00

I've been at my parent's house since late Christmas day and will probably be returning home on January 5th. I don't expect to have any opportunities to advance the narrative during my time away, so I'll get back on track during the weekend of the 6th.

Accident History: Part 8

2006-12-22T20:33:00.004-06:00

Although I was projected to be serving at least a three to five month tenure, I cleared inpatient rehab in only a single month. During that time I was engaged in a varied assortment of physical, occupational, and speech therapies. I had to relearn an impressively basic array of both physical and cognitive skills, and things were tough going, especially at first.

Having been fed and hydrated through tubes and an IV throughout the entire ordeal, I had to be taught how to swallow whole food and liquids again. As my trache was slowly downsized and eventually removed, I also spent a substantial amount of time learning how to speak again. Through the use of some very basic visual puzzles, my speech therapist and I also played games designed to stress memory and simple associations, all in the service of spurring on my cognitive recovery.

Admittedly, I had an incredibly difficult time staying awake during the first week or two of speech therapy. In addition to the cognitive focus of the "brain games," this was where I did a variety of odd exercises to strengthen my swallowing reflex and worked on enunciating various words while coping with a bandaged hole in my throat post-trach removal.

I had to relearn basic locomotion in physical therapy, covering the spectrum of learning to sit up under my own power all the way to standing and walking around with a cane. Manual dexterity and other functional movements were the province of my occupational therapies, which tended to center on things like cooking safety or exercises designed to return my right arm to its fully-functioning and dominant role.

Suffice it to say that I managed to push through my rehabilitative tasks in extremely good time, but I would be remiss in claiming a purely personal triumph. I had an amazing support system of family and friends: my nuclear family was a near-constant presence, and my Mom actually took work off to stay with me during the day and wheel me around to my various therapies and other on-site appointments. Some extended family members and several very good personal friends also visited me, which certainly had a very uplifting effect.

An incredibly skilled and compassionate team of doctors, therapists, nurses, and orderlies tended to my ensemble of needs, and they can (along with my family and friends) lay claim to most of my inpatient success. Without them all of my personal efforts would have meant little; their caring and capable professionalism provided me with all the tools necessary to facilitate my immediate recovery and enter the next phase: outpatient rehab.

A Change of Direction

2006-12-21T15:20:00.003-06:00

Now that I'm on break and have had some time to reflect, I've reached something of a crossroads in the narrative's direction. I have been overly preoccupied with retelling the scope of my bodily destruction thus far, and while that is certainly of incredible personal importance to me, such a focus obfuscates the true spirit and intent of my foray into the Blogosphere.

Instead, this therapeutic outlet was intended as a way for me to share some of my more meaningful introspections, and while a certain degree of context is essential to properly frame and legitimize my story and related thoughts, anything beyond that undermines my primary purpose. So, in light of this, the historical narrative is soon to be concluded, with its remainder built almost entirely on a fairly skeletal rendition of the past two or so years; more detailed, specific information will be mostly confined to the role of providing sufficient background for my various musings.

Semester's End...

2006-11-06T21:39:00.001-06:00

As evidenced by my posting delinquency, I have been preoccupied with the triple whammy of school, work, and the gradual efforts to hammer my body back into a serviceable, injury-free state. The remainder of November and the first week or two of December will undoubtedly continue this trend, but--and this promise is ironshod--I will conclude the historical aspects of this narrative and bring my tale wholly into the present during the five weeks I'll have off for Christmas. Guaranteed.

A Great Ad Hoc Moment...

2006-10-04T16:11:00.003-05:00

To momentarily fast-forward to modern times, as suggested (thanks, inamo) on a health and fitness forum I frequent, I've started using my old walker as a dip station. This is a total aside, but there is something immensely satisfying and positively symbolic about this conversion.

(Although I've consistently missed my established deadlines thus far, I will do my best to advance the narrative to modern times within the next couple months at the latest.)

Another Update...

2006-10-01T18:09:00.003-05:00

Well, I obviously seem unable to make good on my posting timelines, announced or otherwise, but I'll continue the narrative when able; hopefully I'll be able to cover most of the "meat" of my solitary month in inpatient rehab in relatively short order.

Accident History: Part 7

2006-10-01T18:05:00.003-05:00

And speaking of relapses, I neglected to mention another set of respiratory hurdles during my hospitalization. Due to the lung punctures and bronchial tearing, I was afflicted with an extreme bout of pneumonia and the initial doubt over whether or not my right lung could even be saved. My thoracic surgeon (who would require two attempts at reattaching my torn right bronchus and succeed on the second try primarily through the creative use of surrounding fibrous tissue to wrap the bronchus in place) cautioned my parents that the prospects of saving the lung were grim, and although he may be forced to remove it if the procedure went badly, he would do his damnedest to save it.

As I indicated earlier, the reattachment was successful, and despite the concern over my right lung's survival, shortly thereafter it began circulating blood once again and began to heal itself. (My chronology might be a bit off on this one: as I understand it now, the right lung began showing tangible signs of regeneration within a fairly short time after the bronchial reattachment, but its ultimate fate remained in doubt for some time.)

Aesthetics

2006-09-24T17:31:00.005-05:00

In addition to continuing the narrative, I'll also be experimenting with the general look of the blog. Just bear with me.

Accident History: Part 6

2006-09-24T17:04:00.006-05:00

Before I could begin my surprisingly short stint in inpatient rehab, I had to actually get there. For the first time in nearly two months, I was actually outdoors, but only long enough to move me into the loading area and onto an ambulance. (I had at least one window in my hospital room, but the flat of my back was an inopportune position for seeing anything but passing clouds.)

After the artificially lit and largely sterile hospital interior, being outside for even a brief time was almost surreal. Being mostly disconnected from my menagerie of tubes, sensors, and other apparatuses was a very liberating experience, but actually being outside, if only for a few minutes, was definitely a hallmark achievement. (Because I was largely--if not entirely--cognizant at the time, I remember the nurses being very emotional at my departure; it wouldn't dawn on me until much later, but their understandable skepticism at me even surviving, much less recovering, made my leaving the hospital seem to be a nearly unprecedented accomplishment and triumph. It was a victory that they had facilitated, but I believe the gravity of the outcome of their hard work and diligence was only truly realized when I was actually cleared to leave and on my way out.)

My trip was fairly unremarkable; my dad rode with me in the ambulance, along with the requisite paramedic, and after staring at an entirely new ceiling for an hour or so, we arrived. I was then slowly taken out of the ambulance and carted into the facility. Now, much like any hospital or rehabilitative center, my new surroundings were not particularly remarkable, but the fact that they were at all different from the hospital was a rather stark change for me.

The center was divided into several "wings," with each one corresponding to different types of injuries: stroke, spinal, etc. I was wheeled into the brain injury area, which was actually sealed off from the rest of the facility via a coded door to prevent any of the patients from wandering outside the section and hurting themselves or others. (Although I was bed-bound, many of the other patients were not afflicted with such comprehensive, whole-body injuries, so they were able to come and go from their rooms, at least to a certain degree, when they were not eating or in therapy.)

Because I was still afflicted with a MRSA infection, I was the sole occupant of a two-person room; this certainly allowed me a degree of spaciousness and freedom that I would not truly appreciate until a later procedure, but that fact was largely lost on me at the time because I was boarded in a single at the hospital as well.

I may only have advanced a day thus far, but there's quite a bit more to come. As I said before, I'll try to gain positive ground this week. I'm sure I'll reflect back on times in both the hospital and inpatient rehab even after the narrative has moved beyond those times, but you'll just have to bear with my periodic chronological relapses.

Update...

2006-09-24T15:22:00.005-05:00

I've been woefully delinquent in posting of late, but work/school/life have made it difficult to make time. Once again, in the next week or so I'll try to gain a good deal of ground; I won't be able to bring the account up to the present day, but I'll try to make a significant advance nonetheless. I have time today, though, so I'll advance the history a month or so.

Accident History: Part 5

2006-08-11T21:51:00.003-05:00

That largely sums up my major surgical moments, at least initially. Although I had a variety of other minor procedures during my 55-day tenure in the neural ICU, I was unaware of or am simply unable to remember them. (That's not to say that I "remember" any of my tangible procedures from my time spent in the ICU. I have a vague remembrance of several minor, non-surgical procedures, but the vast majority of my hospital time is forever lost to me. I do remember several nurses, especially those who spent time with me towards the end, but much of my time-served is only remembered in the hallucinatory shades of ICU psychosis.)

I've also lost vision in my left eye as a direct byproduct of my traumatic head injury, and because my optic nerve itself was damaged and beyond self-regeneration, my only plausible hope of restoring binocular vision is through embryonic stem cell therapy, which is, to say the least, in an embattled state here in the U.S. (I don't think I need to rant about my position on embryonic stem cell research and the ethics of its implementation here. Suffice it to say that I am a major proponent and scorn the effort's of this current administration and its associates to undermine its advancement here in the United States.)

The long and short of my hospitalization is this: after spending nearly two months in a hospital bed and embodying the fallible nature of probability, I was discharged to an inpatient rehabilitation facility to begin my next step on the "road to recovery."

Accident History: Part 4

2006-08-06T13:47:00.006-05:00

In addition to my flailed chest, my nose, jaw, and right clavicle (collarbone) were broken. Because moving or thrashing about would have exacerbated these (and other) injuries, I was placed in a drug-induced coma for several weeks to allow for the aforementioned to heal "naturally."

Both of my eye orbits and right humerus were also fractured, but my left-side orbit was allowed to set and heal during the coma stage. However, my right-eye orbit and right humerus both required surgery: reconstructive plastic surgery for the former, titanium plating for the latter. My left femur met with a similar fate. It was compound fractured and needed to be rodded to restore the bone's structural integrity. (Both the arm and leg required titanium pins and screws, respectively, in order to hold their hardware in place. Titanium screws will have another role in another leg, but not for over a year.)

Accident History: Part 3

2006-08-04T16:52:00.008-05:00

My other injuries were many, but several screamed for precedence. Cue triage.

In conjunction with my bronchial tear, both of my lungs had been punctured. This necessitated the surgical implantation of an array of chest tubes for both re-inflation and stabilization and a tracheostomy to facilitate the continuous usage of a respirator. (According to my family, the respirator was a major irritant, and, when conscious, I would constantly pull it off of my trach in frustration.) The crash had literally flailed my chest, resulting in a ribcage riddled with breaks and fractures and forming a clear basis for my extensive respiratory damage.

The closed-head trauma I sustained during the crash became another issue of immediate importance. I had major swelling of the brain, but because I hadn't actually split my head open, it was swelling into a dangerously finite amount of space. This injury was my greatest initial hurdle beyond surviving the crash itself. Until the swelling could be checked, the risk of permanent brain damage rose alarmingly, and an advanced brain monitoring utility called a LICOX machine was "installed" into the top of my head to monitor my intracranial pressure (ICP) and act as a "brain catheter" to help siphon off excess fluids and relieve pressure.

Although my ICP was eventually brought within safe limits, the traumatic brain injury that I had sustained coupled with my narcotics regimen and an inability to verbally express myself due to the trach's aspiration-preventing, speech-impeding "balloon" would cause my true mental state to remain in doubt until much later.

Brief Hiatus...

2006-07-27T17:53:00.004-05:00

Life has been rather busy of late, so I haven't had/made the time recently to continue the "history." If it's any consolation, a large part of what has kept me busy will eventually be integrated into this so-called chronicle. Until then, I'll try to gain some ground by this coming weekend.

Accident History: Part 2

2006-06-18T14:10:00.004-05:00

I was told later that one of the first-responders at the scene spoke to me briefly, and that I attempted to respond but began choking on my own blood and quickly lost consciousness again. I remained pinned inside my mangled car for an hour before being freed from the wreckage. After being extricated, I was airlifted to a major medical center and immediately rushed into surgery. I was given six pints of blood during the initial surgery and defibrillated three times, and an exploratory abdominal surgery was conducted to determine why my chest cavity was filling up with air.

It was determined (via exploratory abdominal surgery) that my right main bronchus had been completely torn from its connection to the trachea due to the concussive force of the crash, and I was essentially leaking air into the rest of my body. My thoracic surgeon attempted to reconnect the torn bronchus, but the sutures quickly fell apart, forcing him to perform a second, far more inventive surgery. Reusing the incision, he affixed my bronchus to its original location and wrapped it in place using the surrounding fibrous tissues. This improvisational wrap, being far stronger than any type of suturing, successfully held everything together but would later cause right-side bronchial constriction due to the scar tissue that would be created during the healing process.

Two-Year Anniversary

2006-06-08T23:10:00.003-05:00

I wanted to briefly adjourn my narrative to point out that this is the second anniversary of my auto accident. I am incredibly thankful for the love and support that my family and friends have provided for me, and I truly appreciate the exceptional, skilled care that I have received from a literal host of doctors, nurses, therapists, and other medical professionals. Despite the praise I have received for my "miraculous" survival and recovery, the credit rests squarely on the shoulders of those who have helped me to reach this point.

Accident History: Part 1

2006-06-04T17:15:00.015-05:00

A fair amount of background is necessary to bring my audience up to speed. While the names of my family, my friends, and the institutions that I associate with are important, I am electing to keep certain specific information confidential for the sake of protecting their privacy.

I have been a student at one of the Midwest's state colleges since the Fall of 2003. Shortly after enrolling, I became a practicing member of a local martial arts club and Chinese historical society. Although the club is not directly associated with the college, it is allowed the limited use of the school's facilities. Since the club's practices were primarily held on campus, I was forced to commute from my hometown during the summer semester. The drive was roughly an hour each way, and because practices were held in the evenings, my return trip was almost invariably accomplished in total darkness.

On June 8th, 2004, after a delayed departure from practice, I set out for home. Towards the end of my drive, anywhere from ten to fifteen minutes away from my house, I met what would become a rather fateful deer. According to secondhand accounts (see: the driver of the truck I careened into), a number of deer had crossed the road in front of my car. As I'm sure you've deduced, I hit one of those deer, and that deer was not only pregnant, but also carrying a full-term fawn.

If you've read this far and believe me to be bluffing about the graphic nature of my accident, I advise you to stop reading now.

The deer was sliced in half on impact. The bottom half of the mother and her fawn were strewn across the road and an adjacent field, but the top half of the animal--the section with which I am most intimately acquainted--slid up the hood of my four-door sedan (which was admittedly incapable of gracefully deflecting a deer at 55+ mph) and came crashing through my windshield, slamming into me and literally pinning me to my seat.

Regrettably, the impact of the crash was not enough to stop the forward momentum of my car. I continued in a more-or-less forward direction but began drifting into oncoming traffic. The accelerator of my car remained depressed to a seemingly greater extent, judging by the damage done both to and by the Chevrolet 3500 which I eventually hit head-on. Not only was the "crew cab" truck itself quite a monster, but it was also pulling a sports car (I imagine it was some type of restored show car or even a race car) housed inside a thirty-something foot long trailer. Suffice it to say, I hit one of the biggest trucks commercially available to your average citizen, although doing so at least finally brought me to a complete stop.

Despite the vehicular mayhem, I was still extremely fortunate: the driver of the truck I hit saw me slowly veering into his lane and had come to a complete stop by the time of impact, so I ended up colliding with a stationary object rather than a moving one. Thankfully, the driver and his family were uninjured, and I was made to understand later that they received a brand new truck shortly thereafter. Without their unintentional intervention, there are any number of less desirable objects that I could have careened into, including but not limited to trees, houses, and farm equipment.

A Brief Introduction

2006-06-04T12:31:00.009-05:00

I understand that a great degree of skepticism may follow what I have to say here, especially considering the graphic beginnings of my story. But to commemorate the second anniversary of my automobile accident, I will attempt to chronicle and explain the events that have, despite my constant efforts, defined my existence for nearly two years. I will do this to the best of my ability and memory, but precise accounts will sometimes be difficult (if not impossible) to recreate. This is ongoing history, not a static event, and I will present it as such.