Well, hard to believe a year-and-a-half has gone by since my spinal cord was roto-rootered. I’ve been thinking about this post today, thinking back over what my life was like this time last year and how unbeleivably hellish it was. Last year, I had to put on a plastic boot to walk — with hands that couldn’t put on the boot. Last year, I couldn’t hold a knife to cut my food and had to put a foamy cushion around my fork because my hand was too weak to hold it normally.  I wheeled myself to the bathroom and had a special adaptive device to sit on the toilet because I didn’t have the strength to stand up from a 16″ seat.  I would fall over all the time; I had accidents frequently because I couldn’t get to the bathroom quickly enough and had constant stomach pain from being so stressed out.

The list goes on and on like a bad record (ricky martin maybe?).

Anyway, I’ve come really far…. and I’ve got really far to go.

To be perfectly honest, I don’t think it was worth it and I still wake up every morning wishing that I had followed the advice of people who really understood what the stakes were — and regretting that I let anyone who just wanted me to “get it over with” badger me into submission. That is not who I am, and I’ve never  trusted supposed “authorities” on anything nor done something just because someone else thought it was the best thing for me.

Yes, of course, intellectually I know that not one of the doctors intended for the outcome that happened. What I am upset about is that the diagnosis, the thought behind my case, and the decisions made on my behalf were sloppy and not thourough. I might as well have been on an assembly line…. but then again that is what surgery is, an assembly line of cases. My neurosurgeon made $20K for that surgery and I wasn’t his only patient that day.

My friend Carl told me at the beginning if it were him, he’d ditch everything and go to India to live in an ashram. It was retrospectively, THE ABSOLUTE BEST ADVICE I GOT – EVER.  He’s a smart man that Carl. Funny how the best advice always comes from humble people not chest beaters.

In a really odd, odd way, my life is like living in an ashram now. The part where I wake up, attempt to meditate, do some work, go to therapy and come home and try to keep myself calm, try not to think about being incapacitated, try not to think about all the things I can’t do, the things in my body that I can’t control anymore. Try TO thing about the awesome progress I made in 6 weeks of therapy with the new PT, the minute things that have gotten better with my hands (my left hand can somewhat hold the deodorant enough to pu it under my right armpit), all the people that HAVE come to my assistance and all the therapists that DO know what they’re doing and also care about your emotional well being as well as your physical well being.

I don’t know what kind of person I will be like when I decide to venture in the real world but I still hate doing so now. So I guess I’m still “in seclusion.”

So yeah, would have much preferred to ditch my life in LA (with the exception of Cola) go to India and have just concentrated on positive gentle healing — healing whatever was wrong in my body, mind, heart and soul — in a way that wasn’t so violent or cruel.

On a more positive note, I am slowly beginning to have real faith that my body will heal. It will definitely not be the same body and I think I will always regret the torture I put it through, but it will heal at some point. Some days it feels closer than other days. But the good news now, is that I have a calm faith in this and not a fearful hope. 

Cross your fingers for me that its sooner. I do get impatient over here