Adjust Your Sails

Well, it happened again this morning.

I got up around 5 and went downstairs to have a cup of coffee and watch the news. I was just sitting in my big, wonderful over-sized comfy chair when BAM! Psoas locked up in what shall, from this point forward, be dubbed as a MEGA-SPASM OF DOOM. I don’t remember moving or shifting in any particular way, really. I just remember all of a sudden I had an aching pain like I was tugging hard on my psoas. So I tried to shift, thinking I was just sitting funny (which was hard for me to believe, I wasn’t leaning to either side or putting weight on either hip, I was sitting straight forward on my bum). At this point the pain was getting worse and when I tried to move my leg the muscle spasm just got worse. So I tried to get up out of the chair and, like the last time, I couldn’t really stand up straight. With the help of my hubby, I managed to get myself upstairs and in the shower…hoping the hot water and warmth would help loosen it up. As time went on over the morning, it started to feel a little better. About 30-45 minutes later, I sat down and bent over to put on my socks, and when I sat back up and stood up it was almost completely better…like someone had flipped a switch. I don’t know if the pushing the muscle onto itself made it loosen up or what, but I was thankful!

I am fairly certain it’s a psoas muscle spasm, but I guess I’m not totally certain. The psoas runs up and down the front of the joint, and the pain I’m feeling is more across the front, like this:

 It’s an aching pain, almost like a pulling? Or...pushing maybe? No…not pushing…it’s pulling. Contracting even. Like it’s so contracted and tight that any time I try to use the muscle or stretch it to stand up it screams. It hurts mostly when I try to move the leg forward to take a step or pick it up for something (like to step up or over something, lift it to put socks/shoes/pants on, etc.). When I do these things it yells very loudly. If I’m not using it at all and just standing a little crouched over-like so that I don’t stretch it the pain is mostly an aching pain.

Anyway, I think it’s a bit appropriate that it happened this morning. I came across a quote yesterday while on Pinterest doing Pinterest-y things.

It said: “We can’t direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails.”

I felt like it was so appropriate for, not only my RPAO recovery, but also my life as a whole these past few years. Those who know me know this has been a difficult few years for me, and some of my most treasured loved ones.

I don’t want to tell a sob story, but I feel like I need to write these feelings down and document them not just for my readers, but for me as well. While I am so glad that this blog has been helpful for many, it also serves as a place to reflect. So I want to put down some things I’ve had in my head since reading that thought-provoking quote.

In the fall of 2009, my father, who was the light of my life and my best friend, was diagnosed with cancer. The cancer was serious, and it was aggressive. My family and I tried to rally together to support the man who was the constant rock for all five of us kids and my mother for our whole lives.  To say that coping with my fathers’ grim illness was an extremely difficult part of my life is an understatement. “Adjusting the sails” during this journey was an ever constant thing. The disease took its toll on my father, and our whole family and in August of 2010, the cancer won the battle.

Losing my father was, without a doubt, the most devastating thing I’ve ever had to deal with. And while I tried my best to cope, and to heal, just 5 weeks later my then fiancé/now husband and I lost one our best friends in a tragic accident. Our 29 year old friend, Sean, died of cardiac arrest after finishing a road race. He was an all-around outstanding human being, and an even better friend. One of the best people I’ve ever met. I could go on all day about Sean. Matt and Sean were best of friends. It broke my heart not only to know that Sean was gone forever, but to see Matt hurt in such a way. This was so much for both of us to bear. Again, “adjusting the sails” became a common thing for us, and those around us coping with the loss. I miss them both every day; it’s still so hard to believe we’ll have to always be without them.

2011 and 2012 held many ups and downs along the way, including this RPAO surgery which was another hurdle for us to jump. This has been difficult, but the past months have been so much easier than the months just after the surgery.

So, I guess in reading that quote last night it really hit me: you cannot plan life. Life is unexpected, and unpredictable. It’s whimsical and wonderful, but it can be disappointing and tragic. You can have dreams and set goals and most certainly do your best to achieve all of them, but you absolutely never know what life will throw at you. If there’s a most important thing to learn it’s that you need to know how to handle the shifting winds. 

That quote is so appropriate for many aspects of my life, but I can certainly relate to how it represents my PAO recovery. Many times throughout recovery I felt as though I was on a good path and headed in the right direction, when something would throw me off course. I’m sure we’ve all felt that way, either physically or emotionally. We know that this surgery takes such a toll on not only our bodies, but also our minds, too. We’re all re-learning ourselves; our capabilities and our limitations. We’re having moments of great achievement, and also of great frustration. We’re on cloud 9, and then at our wits end…maybe even in the same day. We are growing, we’re changing, and we’re trying to take every obstacle as it comes. The most important thing is to let us all remember: Keep our heads up, keep moving forward, and no matter what life throws as us, always remember to adjust your sails.