Heart of the Sound (HOTS) Triathlon-2008

Well I finished my second ever triathlon this weekend, and it was tough! It was much harder than Danskin, partially because the distances were a little bit longer, but mostly because it was a much more challenging course.

The 1/2 mile swim took place in Puget Sound, with a strong current against us for the longest section. It took me twice as long as expected, and felt more like my last 1 mile swim! The current made it seem like I wasn't moving forward at all, and the time I spent trying to round the 2nd buoy took forever. 

I left the water feeling pretty good, but more wobbly than expected. The bike ride was super challenging with a difficult climb towards the beginning and another one later on the course. Both my calves cramped up on me on the second climb, which has never happened to me before. I rode the course 2 weeks before on a much longer ride with no problem. I'm amazed I didn't have to walk it, but I managed to keep going by flexing my feet until it passed--Ouch!

By the time I got running, my legs felt like toast, and I couldn't catch my breath. The course had 2 loops, and I wasn't sure I would make it to the second one. Luckily, my legs warmed up and breathing calmed down enough to enjoy the second loop, and I finally got into a groove.

I finished with a big smile, and was really proud to have finished after such a grueling swim:) A fellow triathlete with Brachial Plexus Injury said "sometimes the tougher the race, the sweeter the finish" and she was right!

Managing Nerve Pain

After our return to the U.S. I soon realized that managing the pain would be my biggest challenge.

The nerve pain felt like a knife being stabbed into my hand and twisted. I would flinch uncontrollably at each spasm.  It was really hard for my husband to watch--he hated seeing me in so much pain. Also, I often withdrew into myself to deal with the pain. At those times, it was like I wasn't even present.

The doctors tried a number of narcotics first, which didn't really help the nerve pain. Then they finally tried a drug that was used for depression (nortriptyline), but had been shown to work on the pain receptors in the brain. At first I didn't want to try it and was angry that the doctors were suggesting an anti-depressant when I was in pain, not depressed. They finally explained how it worked so I agreed to give it a try. 

This was my miracle drug, and it eventually reduced my pain level from unbearable to a constant buzz. Now I always feel this buzz (kind of like when you hit your funny bone), but I can ignore it most of the time. I am lucky because this drug doesn't work on everyone, and some people with BPI never find a way to successfully manage their pain.

I still have flair-ups that can hurt as bad as the original pain, but they usually only happen when I'm sick or have hurt the arm somehow. It's awful when it happens, but at least now I know it will end at some point. 

Being active definitely helps! If I go for a run when I'm in pain, I usually forget about it at some point. Even if it comes back after the run, the endorphins help me improve my outlook.

Maybe that's why I'm so obsessive about swimming, biking & running :)

Mexican Hospitals

There was both a good side and bad side to being in Mexico when the accident happened. As I mentioned earlier, the hospital in Merida that we were sent to was very good, and all the doctors were trained in Houston.

The whole stay, including numerous surgeries, 9 days in a private room, and countless tests cost us a little over $10,000. We didn't have health insurance at the time, so we would have been in BIG trouble if this happened in the US. The bone graft I had once we returned and I had health insurance would have been over $100,000 without the insurance.

On the down side, everything had to be paid for in advance, so my husband had to run to the ATM machine for every procedure. At one point, I needed a blood transfusion and Jonathan was my blood type. So he had to run to the bank to get the money to pay for them to take blood out of his arm, and put it into mine.

Besides dealing with the financial end of things and providing me with blood, J had to get letters from the embassy to allow us re-entry in the US because our passports had been stolen. I don't know how he had the strength to deal with it all; at least I was in and out of consciousness most of the time.

Hospital

My time in the hospital was full of so many emotions. I was in so much pain, and not responding to the drugs, that they thought I might be a drug addict--I'm not.

Even the blow up mattress they used on top of my hospital mattress to relieve my pain felt like knives cutting into my back.

Most of the time I was burning up from the heat of my body trying to heal, but occasionally I would wake up shaking from the cold and would have to call out for help to turn the AC down. 

My poor husband was happy they let him stay in the room with me all 9 nights (on a bench), but I don't think I let him get much rest.

One night I spent the entire night trying to get out of bed to use the bathroom (I had a catheter in, so I'm not sure why I thought I needed to do this). I think the fact that I couldn't get up on my own really upset me. Both my arms were in casts, since I'd broken fingers on my good hand as well, so I was incapable of using my arms at all and I felt so helpless.

One night I had a dream that it was our anniversary (it was pretty close) and that we were staying in an exotic hotel in the dessert. Because I was hurt, my hospital bed was in the hotel lobby, and I was so upset that our anniversary was ruined.

Another night I dreamt I was running down a dock near where we had rented a house in Mexico. I was almost skipping or dancing as I waved my arms in the air. When I woke I was so sad to lose that free feeling I had in my dream.

The therapist there was like an angel to me. She would check in on me regularly, and made sure the nurses were gentle with me. She even helped wash my hair to make me feel better. I'll never forget her kindness.