It’s now been eleven months since heart surgery and other than the scars there is little evidence. My left leg continues to be the biggest issue in this recovery, a factor that can only be assumed to be a by-product of the surgical procedures. Nonetheless, it was never once a concern prior to the operation while undoubtedly the biggest obstacle in my recovery. The sciatica pain keeps me awake at night and limits my ability to walk or exercise despite three injection attempts to heal the inherent damages.
I hobble to the fitness center nearly every day, hoping to one day regain the stamina that enabled me to run every day the past fifteen years. Where is the old me? I do about 45-minutes on the stationary bike, cautiously lift some lighter weights, and occasionally walk a mile or so on the treadmill. Discomfort in the form of a Charlie Horse in my left thigh and balance are my enemies. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to run again like the old me.
Pain medication helps me sleep but makes me groggy in the morning. I’ll discuss the options with my doctor during my upcoming appointment. The steroids seem to have aggravated rather than soothed my nerves as expected. Surgery is probably in my future as arthritis continues to eat at my spine. While I paid strict attention to my knees and hips all these years, it was apparently my spine that took the brunt of all those miles. Time to pay the piper!
My heart seems to be functioning well, and my breastbone has finally healed. It no longer hurts to cough. However, all my focus has been on the leg pain, so it’s easy to ignore all the other aches. I might even soon be able to get back into a pushup routine that would make my body feel normal again. It was apparently too soon when I tried to build up the reps a few months ago. I keep going back to a neighbor’s advice at the beginning of my recovery. He said, “the surgeon’s knife is a year long,” and I’m beginning to believe in that truth. The new year will provide a path to finding the old me.
It’s probably a bit too soon to write about the New Year, but I’m lost for positive subject matter. This blog has not been filled with humor and poetry as intended. Instead, it’s been a tough year of surgery, doctors, and pain that have taken away from the joy of travel. Yes, we did get to South America, Africa, Spain, and even Maine, my 50th state. But in between, were 10-days of hospitalization and over 90 doctor appointments. One thing led to another, so I’m hoping for a better year of health.
On the positive side, we did get a new puppy, Fosse, that seems to have extended the life of her older sister Tally, at 100 dog years and counting. My wife had a good year of staying away from doctors and finding some passion in teaching youngsters. She continues to tap dance, take the dogs to the bark park, go to the beach, play bridge, and exercise in the pool, all of the benefits of resort living. She’s also been very supportive with my recovery, doing more than her share of keeping up the house – a bundle of energy. I’m still very much in love with her. Thank You, Sweetie pie!
My grandchildren are getting taller and older, although they have recently been living on the East Coast of Florida, far from us and the need for our companionship. Our last hurrah as a family was Thanksgiving, but they will be back for Christmas. We have two new drivers in the family that have yet to make a solo trip. My days of shuttling them around are growing few.
I’ve been well educated about my aging body by Cardiologists, Physician Assistants, nurses, surgeons, Ophthalmologists, Neurologists, Urologists, rehab specialists, x-ray technicians, doctors that don’t necessarily end in “ist,” dentists, chiropractors, etc. Some are family members that have been extremely helpful in my time of need. “I don’t need no doctor,” has been my motto throughout life, until this year’s barrage. Worst of all, I had to give up my running streak of 15-years, the foundation of my health.
My muscles are now disturbingly flabbier and I’m currently about 10-pounds heavier, despite daily trips to the fitness center. Running always kept the weight off, while the winter months and holiday libations have always been a problem. I do still have a Florida tan, so I look pretty good on the outside, although rusted out on the inside, as my poem reads: (See post #1811). Unbelievably, IU football has made the College Football Playoffs!
I’ve had my share of problems, but when I look around our retirement neighborhood or stop by the hospital, I really have very little to complain about. I’ve also lost a number of high school classmates this year. Thankfully, I haven’t been sick once, despite all the time I’ve spent in the unhealthy environment of medical offices or a wife that regularly hangs out with first graders. I’m just hoping for fewer doctors in 2025!
I’m probably more tired and sore than when I did my first marathon back in 1979. It was certainly a humbling experience, finishing a distant last of about 500 participants in today’s Atlanta Braves Tomahawk 5k. I earned my third medal in the 6th year of its existence, crossing the ballpark finish line in about 65 minutes. I was in last place from beginning to end, dragging my bum leg in the chilly conditions. Even the strollers and kids were faster! It was both uncomfortable and embarrassing with both a police vehicle and golf cart at my heels. Race officials were dissembling the course as I passed and, in some cases, just before I got there. It was annoying having these volunteers pushing me along, but they were anxious to get home. Although tempted to jog, I simply couldn’t go any faster.
It was as slow as I’ve run any race in my life, and I’ve done hundreds. It was also the longest I’ve walked since heart surgery at the beginning of the year. I strongly considered not doing it, but it’s been a Holiday tradition since we moved to Florida nearly four years ago. We were traveling the one year that I missed it, so determination earned my third medallion. I started the day keeping warm in the car of two friends, who won their 80 and 85+ age-groups. They left me in the dust, but I joined them for the awards ceremony after the included celebration breakfast. There was no award for finishing last, but I’ve never won my age division since a winter race in my early thirties when no one else showed up. Even at a healthy 72, I couldn’t compete with my peers on a good day.
This year it was just a stubborn matter of finishing despite nagging sciatica and back pain. I do get another steroid injection in a few days, but these procedures have done little to reduce my discomfort and stiffness. I can’t say that I was in constant pain throughout the 5k, but it was not easy being a gimp. I have a high tolerance at this point, but it was still difficult to move. The good news is that if I do it again next year, I may be faster, but it will be another year before I get into the 75+ division, if that even helps. I keep trying to increase my speed and mileage but there always seems to be a setback. I’ll start training for next year after my upcoming procedure. Chop! Chop!
It’s December already and snowbirds have returned to the neighborhood, only to disappear again for the Holidays. We aren’t scheduled to leave again until the end of February. It’s been a year of frustration following open heart, cataract, and prostrate surgeries along with steroid treatments for sciatica pain. It reminds me of the lyrics, “One thing leads to another” by The Fixx, although the song has nothing to do with my trials and tribulations. It’s just that the leg pain would not be there if it weren’t for the surgical procedures. I would certainly like to go back to when I was running every day, earlier this year.
The annual Tomahawk 5k is coming up next weekend and I’m not sure I’ll be able to even walk that short distance that was once an easy run. The last steroid treatment has left me with a permanent Charlie Horse in my left thigh. Hot and cold applications haven’t worked. I now limp along in discomfort from a procedure that was supposed to eliminate my pain. Instead, it seems to have aggravated the issue. Because of the Thanksgiving holiday, the doctor’s office has been closed, so I will have to wait to get guidance. I’m once again, back to being “The Gimp.”
I can still ride the stationary bicycle, but the rest of my fitness regimen is on hold. Putting weight on the leg is painful, so walking and lifting are not possible. It’s not helping me shed the pounds from all the Holiday temptations, compounding my problem. I’ve got to somehow lose ten pounds despite my limited mobility. I had recently started to regularly walk to the fitness center prior to this set back, but even the treadmill is now uncomfortable. Being active has been an essential part of my daily life, but I’m limited in what I can do. One thing leads to another.
I felt like I was in a Monopoly game yesterday and drew a Chance card that read, Go Back Three Spaces.” I woke up this morning after a restless night’s sleep to some dizziness and weight gainj. By fasting for the injection procedure, I obviously threw off my medication schedule. It was particularly noticeable in the shakiness of my hands. We also stopped at Arby’s after the surgery center so I could gorge myself on a celebratory Janocha Shake. Although, there wasn’t much to cheer about, and it only led to an unsettled stomach that added to the tossing and turning.
The cramp-like symptoms returned to my left leg and left me hobbled. Nurses helped me to the bathroom and car, but ice packs and rest did not resolve the pain. In fact, after leaning on my poor wife too many times for assistance, I had her bring “Sky Walker” out of retirement to get me around the house. She took over all the dog duties while I sat on my butt, ate more junk, and watched Yellowstone, Landman, Curse of Oak Island, and The Unbelievable. I’ll continue today with Gold Rush, Shrinking, and Before. We then have Thanksgiving dinner plans with my son and his family.
The good news is that I didn’t really need the walker this morning but there’s still a certain tightness/soreness in my leg and lower back. It can take up to three days for the steroids to work, although it has been known to provide immediate relief in some people. That is not the case for me, as I deal with the frustration of going back in time about eight months, following my open-heart surgery in January. The sciatica issues came on slowly after starting with these Charlie Horse-like cramps in my left calf and thigh. It has never affected my right side. At first, they thought it might be related to circulation, but MRI and Ultrasound tests have proven otherwise. Steroid tablets did not do the trick, but the first round of injections brought relief. The second round has hopefully only temporarily set me back.
On a humorous note, a friend sent a cartoon yesterday, with a family of generous pigs visiting a heart valve patient like me. It made me smile, with thoughts of the College World Series and the obnoxious Razorbacks with endless chants of soooooey! I woke up from being sedated to watching the I.U basketball team go down in flames. Unfortunately, it did not turn out to be a bad dream. They have a chance today to redeem themselves in the Bahamas, but the loss left an ugly scar on Coach Woodson’s team, who sadly took a step back in time, just like me. They too, may need an operation!
While hyped a bit on ‘roids, I also sent out a photo of the “No Matter What Shape (Your Stomach’s In)” album done by the T-Bones back in 1964. It was available on E-Bay, while my copy is long lost. My dad brought it home from a recording session in NYC where he worked with the agency who produced this promotional piece for Alka-Seltzer. It featured the jingle, “Plop, Plop, Fizz, Fizz, Oh What A Relief It Is.” It’s as appropriate for Thanksgiving as Alice’s Restaurant, two of my favorite Holiday songs. This will soon be followed by the movies “Planes, Trains, and Automobiles,” along with “Christmas Vacation,” to get me in the Holiday Spirit and well distracted from this disturbing “Step Back.”
We are home for the holidays, with no plans for travel. Thanksgiving dinner will be at my son’s house and Christmas will likely be here. By that time, they will all be living in Plantation, Florida, with the exception of my grandson who will be with his mother in nearby Sarasota. We’re not expecting my wife’s daughters to visit until early January, so our next excursion won’t be until mid-month when we go to Orlando, and then we have house guests on-and-off through March, with a weekend in Key West. The world travelers are grounded for once – no long drives, flights, or cruises are planned. More importantly, no surgeries scheduled.
We’ll be stuck in our resort center for once, certainly as good as any Marriott Vacation Club. My Chair Yoga class will expand to two days a week, while my wife has already added an extra evening of tap. She will continue to teach school when they need help and maybe I’ll find a part-time gig. Her gardening, bridge, and aqua-fit activities will hopefully keep her mind off travel for a while. I’ve had enough of suitcases, delays, and tours, so I won’t miss being on the road. We need to take advantage of what we have here.
I’m beginning to heal after a long year of aches and pains. Being home is exactly what the doctor ordered. Maybe next year, I’ll feel differently, but this year I’m home for the holidays, extending to the next holidays.
I continue to enjoy the first pain-free week of this year, with just a touch of stiffness in my lower back. Chair Yoga was much more tolerable, although many of the poses are still not possible with my lack of flexibility. Hopefully, the additional injections next week in my lower back will be equally effective as those for my sciatica. I’m also encouraged that the Primidone prescription is reducing the shakiness and clumsiness in my hands. The keyboard isn’t as much of a challenge for my fingers this morning and I can use normal kitchen utensils, rather than the heavier ones, again when eating. The neurologist says that he will continue to slowly increase my dosage, providing that drowsiness, dizziness, or other side effects don’t affect me. My life is gradually turning normal and I’m thankful.
It’s that time of year – Thanksgiving – and next week the Johnston family will be back together again. My grandson has been accepted to technical school and my son will soon be moving to the east coast of Florida to rejoin his wife and two daughters. This year’s meal will be the last time that all of us will be in place for a while. He’ll be changing jobs and renting out their home in the process. My daughter-in-law is in optometry school over there and has an apartment. They tried to make it work it two different cities, but it’s good that they are joining forces to raise the kids. Part of the difficulty has been my son’s son, who lives every other week with his mother in Sarasota, and commutes by bus to high school. With his graduation and a long overdue driver’s license, he may be moving to Ft. Wayne, Indiana to live with his grandmother, my ex-wife. It’s complicated!
By the time Turkey Day arrives this may all change. One thing that never changes is that IU will be playing Purdue that weekend in the annual Bucket Game. The Hoosiers are a heavy favorite and may even be a national title contender. The Ohio State game this weekend will determine if playing for the Old Oaken Bucket is just another game or a battle for the unimaginable undefeated season, with more to come. More importantly, will these additional steroid injections finally get me back to thinking about running again? It will be an eventful Thanksgiving weekend for both the Johnston family and the Hoosiers.
It’s now been a full month since prostrate surgery, while ten months have passed since open heart. I feel pretty good lately thanks to the epidural injections I got last week to relieve the sciatica pain. My lower back is still very stiff and sore, but more shots next week should ease that discomfort, if only temporarily. I continue to go to the fitness center, hoping to take some weight off, especially after last week’s food and drink splurges. It was a beautiful, sunny morning, despite a very early start since my wife had jury duty. A good day for me was not so good for her.
My weekend football fortunes were not so good, thankfully the Hoosiers had an off week. Da’ Bears suffered yet another heartbreaking loss, so I hope that this misfortune doesn’t extend into the upcoming Ohio State game. The Buckeyes are twelve-and-a-half point favorites, another slap in the face by the experts during this undefeated season of doubt. The pessimist in me can’t see a victory and potential battle of the unbeatens against Oregon for the BIG championship, let alone a national playoff spot. Basketball was at least a bright spot for both the IU men’s and women’s teams. I’m much more accustomed to winning in basketball than football.
I’ve felt much more like socializing, making phone calls, and enjoying the sunshine this past week. I’m starting to put this difficult year of recovery behind me. I’m convinced that some of my back issues are related to not being able to move forward. It’s time to do so and relish yet another good day.
After some frustration yesterday about injection ineffectiveness and unrelated computer hackers, I found it to be a new and brighter day. Following months of waiting and delayed appointments, I finally got my chance to get some relief from my sciatica (Lumbar Radiculopathy) pain through Lumbar Transforaminal Epidural Steroid Injections at the Ramos Center. It was not immediate, as several friends had suggested, so I was sore and wary by the end of the day. This was coupled with a hacking issue on my computer from someone claiming to be a Microsoft representative. I spent about an hour with her on the phone after googling her profile, as requested. Her name was supposedly Kathy Williams, with a thick Indian accent, that made me even more suspicious. We agreed to talk again today, but after consulting a friend, we removed a “security” lock on my screen and shut down my computer. I bought a VPN service called Surfshark and will stay off my laptop for a few days. This is why I originally wrote this my phone to transfer to the blog.
The steroid injections made me a hyper (like speed), with a bit of an upset stomach, so sleep was sporadic. My wife had just gotten back from a west coast flight, and she was also restless in the middle of the night. I was worried about retirement finances, leg/back pain, and identity theft. It’s no wonder my blood pressure has been running high these past few weeks. Drinking with the boys failed to relieve this stress, despite a few hours of medicated enjoyment.
This morning my leg pain was gone, and I felt like walking to the fitness center and back. My paranoia over being hacked was also eased, and my blood pressure was back to normal. I go back for more injections in two weeks that will be more focused on my lower back, the other source of discomfort. I can’t imagine how much better I will feel, at least temporarily. It’s a New Day!
There was a strange vibe in the air this morning. The dogs were not barking like maniacs, even in the presence of the big dogs down the street. In checking Facebook, Trump has apparently won the election, and the once-dreaded neighborhood bully of my childhood passed away. I wasn’t sure how to digest either of these developments, while waiting for the “third” hammer to fall. I’m not happy about the prospect of soon having another eighty-year-old in the White House, but I knew that sexist America was probably still not ready for a woman president.
The death of another Elkhart classmate was more disturbing than who won the presidency, by far. He was a mean kid, who taunted me, tried to steal my “girlfriend,” and gave me the nickname, “Smiley.” I probably haven’t seen him in over sixty-years, but the mention of his name on Facebook always stirred up unpleasant memories of the smirk on his face. These days, I would never wish death on anyone, but I sometimes felt that way about him as a young child. We went to the same grade school, and summer camp so I always felt uncomfortable in his presence. He wasn’t a big guy, so there was never any physical intimidation, but his words sure hurt. He had also moved away from town for a number of years.
I clearly remember an incident at the local movie theatre where he and his buddies ganged up on me and began to tease me about my smile, “a shit-eating grin” they called it, wondering what I was hiding? They made grotesque faces, mocking my expressions. I sometimes wonder if maybe they thought I was making fun of them? It made me very self-conscious, because I tend to laugh and smile more when I’m ill at ease, and the awkward experience somehow managed to make me hate what should have been a beloved trademark smile.
I should have embraced being called “Smiley,” but instead it made me angry. It was an early case of stolen identity, long before internet theft. Before I knew it, my real name was lost, and everyone called me by the nickname, unrecognizable if I used the name, “Mike.” They weren’t all making fun of me, in fact some thought “Smiley” actually was my last name. Even at reunions many years later, my name tag read “Smiley.” Mike no longer existed and identifying myself in a phone call was awkward unless I stooped to using the moniker. Instead, I just avoided using the phone.
I eventually named our dog, “Smiley,” as a diversion, so the name lived on. Now, the bully who first called me by that name is gone, probably never realizing how much he changed my life. Just recently, someone asked if “Smiley” was coming to our 55th high school reunion? I couldn’t attend, but if I had, I would have played along and smiled like it never bothered me. However, there’s still a strange vibe when I recall the circumstances, with sincere wishes that the perpetrator rests in peace.
