Case Closed

I haven't written in a while and a lot has happened.

For starters, I passed the one year mark. It felt pretty monumental in my mind, I made a lot of progress in a year. People who I meet now, have no idea what by 2013 was like. Is that so bad? No, but I was asked recently why I still tell people about it. At first I thought it was kind of a rude question, and then when I thought about it, I understood. I think it is safe to assume that I would want to put this in the rear view mirror, FAR in the rear view mirror. But the reality is, it is still a part of my every day.

Here is a snippet of how:
1. I am still in pain nearly everyday. I sneezed this morning and it hurt my pelvis. Go figure.
2. I am still grateful. Every. Single. Day.
3. I still feel very blessed. Every. Single. Day.
4. This accident didn't JUST impact me physically.

That being said, I just have a slightly different perspective on each day. I give a bit more space between cars (not enough for 75 cars to merge, mind you); I take a deep breath when I see/hear about car accidents. I have more patience for situations regarding accidents (GAH, it is so inconvenient when other people get hurt in a car and RUIN my commute . . .  right? or not). Finally, I have to physically take things a bit slower sometimes. Yes, I work out often and yes, I experience pain almost every time I do. I just don't let it stop me.

Next, I traveled to Africa. Yup, you read that right. I even camped. I had a few instances where I let the fear seep in (mental side of my injury) and drive some decisions, but ultimately, I did everything I wanted there. I'll have to get another post up about Africa soon.

I think the most "final" thing that has happened since my last post is that my Washington State Labor and Industries case got closed. I knew this was coming, as I had been fighting for more coverage, probably through February. In early March, I decided that I probably needed to move on from fighting, as it was just too emotional for me. In April, I was told I needed to get final physicals for both my knee and my pelvis. I had JUST seen my knee doctor two days before but I had to go back.

I remember being really irritated because when I went back for the exam (it has been like 2-3 weeks), he had no idea who I was. I know they see a lot of patients, but I could hear him outside the room I was in (30 mins late mind you) and getting a debrief of my case. Just felt rude, step away from door! He spent a mere 5 minutes with me and I was on my way. I was pretty sure he would just say I was 100% healed.

Next, I had to schedule an appointment with an independent medical examiner for my Pelvis, as my regular family doctor (who had taken over the "care" of my pelvis) was not certified to do this. It turned into a tedious process where the receptionist at the location kept calling me Mark and leaving messages about "his" appointment. (don't worry, I made her feel awful when I showed up and to her surprise, I was female). The exam was quick and painless and I basically just chatted about all the things I can and can't do.

A few weeks later, I got a call from my case manager with L&I. I do have to say, I have had as wonderful of an L&I experience as you can. My case manager fought hard for me for a year, and got me everything I deserved within her power, and even begged for some extra stuff for me too. So, she called and (in many more words), that my case was being closed. Done and done. I am permanently disable in the eyes of the state (that is good) and if I ever have increased pain, I can open my case back up (yay!).

So, case closed. <insert Law & Order chime here>

I feel very lucky and blessed to be able bodied and minded to process this and look forward to more adventures!

Holy Sh*t Freaking Lucky

So today I was drove past the accident site. You might think it is weird I feel the need to mention it, but it was in an area I NEVER go to, and have actually only driven past the location 2 times before (always with someone else) - and now a third (alone). I don't even know if I have ever mentioned where the accident was. The location, is actually pretty significant, especially after driving past there today and having a panic/anxiety attack.

I was driving today from a meeting at The Museum of Flight to my office on Queen Anne, which led me up Marginal Way/Hwy 99. The accident was at Marginal Way and Dawson St - a stupid little side street that has nothing of significance. I have had this idea in my head about what the location looked like and how it happened, and even more importantly, how lucky I was/am. The few times I have driven past, I was with someone chatting and tried not to make a big deal about it. Neither with me were people who truly know what happened so I didn't want to make a big deal, about how big of a deal it was for me to be there.

So, today, I am alone and take in every single foot of the road and its surroundings. I held my breath. My first observation was that a lane that I thought was a turn lane wasn't. Significant. My other observation was that most cars were cruising between 40 and 50 MPH. Significant. My third observation was that this is an industrial area. Duh. I know that and have known that, BUT this time I noticed the ridiculous number of semi trucks in the area. Significant. (still not breathing) I must say it is amazing at what and how quickly your brain can think about things, as this was all in about 20 seconds.

As I passed the site, making all of these observations, My heart started to race, my vision even went a bit blurry for a second, and my eyes started to well with tears. I finally breathed and the tears rolled down my face.

We were hit turning left across a lane of traffic that I had thought was a turn lane approaching a red light, when in fact it was just a regular lane. We crossed two lanes of stopped traffic into a lane where vehicles were going the speed limit (really, 10-15 above the speed limit). We were hit by a Toyota Tundra, and we were in a Lexus sedan. That Toyota Tundra could have easily been a semi-truck, and odds are, the cars behind it, were. Gulp. Let's just say, I am FUCKING lucky that I was met with a Tundra and not a semi. WHOLLY SHIT. Hence the panic attack, lack of breathing and tears.

I am thankful and grateful every single day that all I did was break my pelvis and dislocate my knee - and nothing more, because realistically it should have been more. My spine got shook up a bit, but no injuries. My knoggin' is just fine, my arms are fine, I can (now) walk. I wouldn't be singing this same tune if I had been met with a semi truck.

I am sitting here brought to tears again because the emotions of this accident are with me every single day. Sitting at just a week before the one year anniversary of the accident, I am eternally grateful for my life and those who have helped me on this journey. It is hard and I may be nearly done putting the physical pieces back together, but the emotional toll will live with me for a long time.

I am so freaking lucky, in so many ways.

XOXO
Brianna

11 months and Jogging

Thursday was 11 months from the accident. Fairly uneventful in the grand scheme of things, but nonetheless significant for me. Every day is significant to me, but I don't expect people to celebrate every month with me. (Feel free, don't let my lack of expectation change your desire to celebrate me!)

Just wow. Today was a big day for me. I chose to register for this specific race because it was the last running race I did last year before the accident. More than anything, I was simply proving to myself that I had the drive in me to do this. I 100% expected to walk the entire thing. Since last year, the furthest I have jogged is one side of the gym to the other, which isn't super far. I have done some cardio through step and spin, but absolutely NO running. None. 

As we were lined up, my pelvis was hurting. Just a low dull pain. I didn't have a great outlook on how this would go, although I kept both of those facts to myself. As we started, I just wanted to walk. I needed to get a feel for the wet cement, the people and the environment. I didn't haven't any issues with having to walk the entire thing; my ego has never been an issue in this experience. I still have a fear of crowds as you just never know what others might do. Finally, it was raining. After about 1/2 k, I decided I wanted to see how it felt to jog, and much to my surprise, it felt fine. We did some walking and Anh was just as encouraging as if I were competing in an ironman. I suppose this was a personal ironman. 

It felt fine. No seriously. I kept waiting and it kept being fine. The only pain were my muscles kinda pissed that I was trying this out having not run, jogged, wogged or anything for a long time. Hey now, what is this business? I just set small goals for myself and Anh helped me get there. It was 42 minutes of pure bliss . . . that I could do this. The weirdest part is that it still doesn't hurt, 12+ hours later. Of course I haven't been up and about too much, but I kind of expected to be limping. I am excited to see how I feel tomorrow. My muscles are sore, and that is a feeling I love. I worked for that. 

Trying to stay positive

A lot of people have asked me for a new blog update on how I'm doing, so here goes. One thing I have taken pride in through the last 10 and a half months is my positive attitude. It's hard. The last three weeks have been extra hard. I was notified by Labor and Industries that "according to their calculations" I should be healed and my care will probably not continue to be covered. Just like that. Now, If you know anything, that's not exactly how it works. They can't cut me off until a doctor says they can (I.e. I'm healed), but they sure can make it a challenge. 

My logical brain understands as I know a huge portion of those covered by this benefit abuse it, and sadly the system has to compensate for that, rather than taking care of those who need it. Always on the defensive. I get it but it makes me want to cry. I feel like I have suffered enough. I was only compensated for wages for the mere 4 weeks I took off to recover, and the rest of my medical has been covered, and for the most part, since my 6 month mark (September), it has only been physical therapy. 

My physical therapy is also unique as it is not what most people expect to see in PT. I have been fortunate enough to work out at an amazing gym (Happy Hour by Marisa) where the owner Marisa Mancke developed special workouts for me, until I could fully integrate into the classes she teaches. Most of the physical work I do to recover is on my own; using my PT time for deep tissue work - something I can't do on my own. If you think I can, try sticking your own elbow in your glute and come back to talk to me.

So back to my general practitioner along with notes from my physical therapist to submit a letter to L&I to extend my coverage. Before they even got the letter, they had a quick conversation with my PT and limited my coverage. It went retroactive and so before I knew it, my coverage is basically up again. So it seems that every 6 weeks I have to fight for additional coverage. It is increasingly apparent that they don't even know what truly happened to me. Pelvis breaks are fairly rare outside the elderly, so there isn't a great "calculation" for healing because they usually just stay in bed and not get super active again. 

What is even more daunting, is that I probably need PT for another 6-8 months. Not at often as I do now, but for the next 6-8 months, I have to fight every 6-8 weeks for coverage. Why not just use my insurance? I don't want to and I shouldn't have to.

The icing on the cake is that these last 2 weeks have been the most painful I've had since probably September/October. It's really the first time I've taken steps back, vs. forward. I hurt when I sit, I hurt when I stand, I hurt when I lay down. I can't sit in the same position for longer than 15-30 minutes without something starting to ache. Plus, in the last few weeks, I have been getting random twinges of immense pain that freezes me. I usually get it as I take a step and literally have to freeze to stop the pain. It sucks, because I can't anticipate it and it never happens conveniently. Today, I was out with coworkers and was hit with such intense pain, I started to cry. I was embarrassed that it happened, as I mostly (try to) wear a happy face with coworkers. 

So it's hard. I'm home on a heating pad for my pelvis and and ice pack for my back. I want to scream that I am a good person and just need PT, instead I'll play by their rules and charge MORE to them by going back to the doctor every six weeks. Whatever. I deserve it, I just hate fighting for it. I deserve someone else sticking their elbow in my glute. I deserve to walk without a limp or pain. So if I don't seems as positive as I have been, I'll bounce back, just taking a break to be pissed off at the system and nurse my pelvis and heart back to some normalcy. :)

Thanks for reading. I am supposed to walk a 5k on March 2 and do the big climb on March 23. These are the last two events I did before the accident, and hoped to come back and celebrate my progress. I'll make sure to post on my progress to those! 

Normal

One thing that I have a really hard time verbalizing or dealing with is actually hard to explain as it is the emotional side of this process. Emotional aren't rational, so trying to talk about them is scary as some people just don't understand. I had a post about firsts. I continue to have firsts all the time. Like my first workout without any modifications, or my first hour long step, or driving to work alone. Mostly around physical stuff, but I have a mental checklist of things I used to do and note when I do them again for the first time. It has also been stuff like wearing the jewelry I was wearing or getting a pedicure without worrying they'll hurt me. 

I don't expect a cheerleading squad every time I do something, but recognition means a lot to my emotional healing. Sometimes I feel like people have forgotten, and that seems weird/ awkward to say. I don't want to be treated like a 5 year old and be checked in on, but I appreciate when people recognize an accomplishment or ask me how I am feeling. It's been nine months (and 5 days!) and I continue to heal. I am not back to normal, and I know that. I am not even sure what normal is now.

I don't know if people think I am sick of talking about it (or they themselves are tired of hearing about it) but I'm not, as it is my every day reality. It helps me process internally, when I talk about it with others. I get home each night and immediately jump on the heating pad to help ease any pain that creeped up during the day. Pretty much anytime I am home, I am laying on my back with my knees up as that is the only comfortable position. That is my reality. I can't stand for more than about 3 hours, before the pain in unbearable. That is my reality. 

I was at the gym on my 8 month anniversary. Someone I was in a group with asked me how it was going and I shared that it was this anniversary, and it felt like a big deal to me. 8 months since my life flashed before my eyes. It seems over dramatic to some, but when you are told (while being cut out of the car) that you really should have been crushed and died, it sort of sets you on a different path mentally. So yeah, 8 months is a big deal. At the end of the workout, our amazing, kind and generous leader Marisa stopped the class and acknowledged the anniversary. I was brought to tears, not only because it's more real when you say it out loud, but also because I was touched that others also felt the importance of acknowledging this milestone. Marisa is great at noticing when I do stuff that she knows are goals for me, like the first time I pushed that stupid prowler, or when I could do box jumps with even 1 riser. 

This week, a fellow gym mate Linda came up during a workout and touched my heart in a way she probably doesn't even know. I was actually struggling with workout because I had just done an hour of step and 25 minutes of spin and my legs were just done. So I was standing there having a convo with myself about how it was okay to skip parts and not get down on myself. Be proud of what you have done, do what you can, as you are blessed to be able (says Marisa, all the time). 

As I was having this hard convo with myself, Linda stopped me to tell me what an inspiration I was to her. Gulp. Hold the tears. She said she had friends who were in an accident years and years ago, and two of them broke their pelvises, and even all these years later, they probably aren't as fit and determined as I am 9 months after my own accident. That made my day, week, and maybe my year. 

This is tough. Period. Physically and mentally tough, and I appreciate (more than I could ever say or myself acknowledge) those who acknowledge that and help me continue to heal. 

My bubble has grown

I think the number of fears changes daily. Something will happen and my blood pressure will rise and I'm like, whoa, that scared me and it didn't before. I have always considered my self fairly adventurous (skydiving, for example) so random fears sort of weirdos me out. My bubble is bigger in every circumstance that I can think of. I had someone go in for a hug (when I had a walker) and I practically fell over trying to avoid it. I didn't do it consciously, I guess I was just afraid she'd push me over. I didn't realize it until she apologized and then I had to explain that I do in fact like hugs and didn't mean to do that. 

Driving is tricky for me. A bigger bubble is not always good when driving. I have a funny paranoia that everyone wants to be in my lane and that no car can see me. I did get a bigger car to help alleviate that fear and it has helped. My new car has a back up camera, which I not only love, but more than anything, it fills the gap of my physical ability to rotate my torso. I do wish the camera could, be on when I was driving, but I can imagine the confusion that would cause. I sometimes think I prefer to be the driver, until something scares me, and all I want is to be out of the car. Then I am the passenger, and I (at times) have to close my eyes so I don't scream out. Some lucky folks, like my mom, just gets the screams. Love you mom! 

I visualize accidents a lot. It's weird to be driving and literally "see" an accident in my head. I usually have to shake it off and have a conversation with myself. And then I go and watch Chicago Fire (so freaking good) or the news (scary!) and my brain remembers those crazy TV moments. Stupid brain. 

Running/jogging, Jumping and skipping. Hard! This actually revolves more around my knee, but the way landing feels now is different everywhere. I have slowly eased back into step, which involves some jumping and stomping. The first time I did it, I lasted 15 minutes before my knee and pelvis started yelling at me. The next time was 30 minutes. And the next time was an hour! I have really missed step and can't wait to do it with the bounce that I used to have. I do go to the back, which helps with my bubble situation. 

Funny enough, I think I am getting to be as strong as I was at the accident but I have a mental block about skipping, especially the landing part. It is such a joyous activity, and I yearn for the day I can do it, without a second thought. And cartwheels, although I don't think I've been able to do one of those right for years. 

I did sign up to do the Big climb again in March 2014. That was the last event I did just days before the accident and I want to do it again, as a celebration. I don't care how long it takes me, but I am going to do it. 

Healing.

I counted yesterday. 39 weeks since the accident. I have written so many drafts of this post, starting at week 17 (note the date of this port is July . . .  Oops!). I feel like so much has happened, and so little has happened and I didn't know where to start. It will come in pieces because it would be the longest post ever, because a lot has happened. 

My last post, in July, had these goals:

1. Go up and down stairs normal (I have a lot of stairs in my life and so this is top of mind)

2. Driving on the freeway for more than 1 mile and not freaking myself out

3. Driving to work (I was still getting rides)

4. Continue lots of physical therapy! 

5. Heal (mind and body) and set news goals. 

6. Continue to find humor in all the crazy things that happen. 

7. Be grateful for where I am at and going.

My updates: 

1. Stairs. Done. I don't remember when it happened but I just go now.

2. Driving. Gads. See next post. Mind games, I tell you, mind games!

3. Driving to work. It became a necessity due to a big project. I didn't get to think about it, so it happened. 

4. I still go to physical therapy once a week and I look forward to it. I try to do as much as I can between, so the healing continues.

5. Working on healing my mind, and my body. I have a great relationship with my foam roller and heating pad.

6. I like to think I find humor in most situations, but probably need to laugh more! :)

7. Every. Flipping. Day. Grateful. 

After that post, I hit the ground running as soon as I could.  Figuratively. I travel for work, and it is like in mid July, a switch was flipped and I suddenly had a frequent flyer pass again. My first trip was a day one, so I was calmed by the fact that the first airport experience would be with just an small backpack with my iPad and a note book. No heavy laptop, no luggage. I went early to allow plenty of time to be harassed and patted. Many of you have heard me talk about his since then, but much to my disappointment, the giant screw that is now permanently part of me, didn't even make a TSA agent blink. No alarms, no pat down, nada. I know I shouldn't have been disappointment as my lack of frisking, but I was sort of hoping for an eye brow raise or something. Oh well. :)

Fast forward 18 weeks from the first flight, and I was on 3 international flights, and too many domestic to count. I have always been a light traveler, so luckily I have honed those skills more, and travel with even less. My two biggest obstabcles when flying are lifting the weight (which has gradually increased, but one trip involved no lifting at all), and sitting in a seat not on the aisle. I never noticed before how awkward it is to get into a seat. When you add the inability to move your pelvis around, it is strangely challenging. Add an old lady next to you who won't get up to let you out, and it is even more complicated. And yes, that happened more than once. 

My biggest obstacle for all healing has been that my injury is basically invisible. When I had a my walker or my crutches, it was a call out to something being "different" about me. Once I dropped those, I lost my security blanket. I think I actually walked on my crutches longer than I needed to, because I was scared to let that security go. It finally took my knee doctor telling me to get rid of them, or else, to let them go. 100% mental. Mental challenges are the worst, and I am not talking about puzzles. The good news is that shortly after I gave up my crutch, my knee doctor decided knee surgery wasn't necessary unless I had a ton of pain as I continued to heal. Even better news, no real unexpected knee pain! So no surgery!

Recently, I had to be vocal about the fears that I have that could affect my ability to do my job, like being in crowds. It was like asking for help in the beginning, it was hard, but I had to get over it, because I would have died of starvation in a pee soaked bed if I didn't ask for help. Pretty thought, I know. So now, I have to be vocal about what I can and can't do. Crowds, no thank you. I don't move super quick, can't jump (out of the way of danger, duh) and have a voice that does not carry (so I can't scream bloody murder and expect someone to hear me). Crowds used to be fun, and now I am scared I'll get knocked down and break again. I really know the odds of that happening are pretty slim, but the fear of it, is actually worse than it would be.

I did try to overcome this fear of crowds recently by going to a Seahawks game. I love the Seahawks and was willing to battle my brain to be there. I was surprisingly okay, except when something really exciting would happen and suddenly people were in my bubble. I KNOW people aren't going to knock me over and I KNOW that if I fall, my pelvis won't break. . . But sometimes there is just a constant fear that something could happen. Like I said, my bubble is bigger and I did pretty good most of the game and just had to be vocal when I wasn't okay. I was a little surprised that when I did say something, the response was that if I wasn't okay, I shouldn't have come. Noted to not go places with that person again. I know my fear is irrational and I know it's not fair to expect others to understand. 

I just hope it will get easier with time. Stupid fears. And Go Hawks!