Triumph in the Rain!

Race day! I WILL be STRONG!

The sun shone beautifully for all of 30 minutes.

I did it! I actually did it! 13.1 miles through torrential rain, sunshine and sprinkles I walked/jogged all around Portland; from downtown, out towards the industrial district, across to Barbur and Terwilliger, back downtown. Not only did I meet my goal - to beat the police car that marks the time limit herding walkers towards the finish line - but I beat it by 17 minutes and change. On top of that, I wasn't last in my age group. I finished strong, able to sprint the last three blocks. My legs could have continued - at a slower pace - but my feet, oh, my poor, poor feet, they wish I would have stopped after mile 4. As revenge for ignoring the throbbing burning sensation in my toes, the two pinky toes developed nice blisters, but the right index toe can only be described as horrifyingly disgusting. It really did not like walking for such a distance, especially in shoes that sloshed half the time.

Why, yes! I will pass you on the left!

Overall, I'm quite pleased. It felt great to be the one passing others, to feel strong and capable. To consider this time last year I could barely walk a mile, the distance I've traveled figuratively is mind-boggling. So thank you Dr. Keenen, Lisa, Mom, Damon, and my Foot Traffic University training group for your part in getting me to this milestone. Up next, the 5k Jingle Bell Run for Arthritis on Dec. 5th. I think it's time to back off from the distance goals - at least until I find a better pair of shoes; my new goal is doing a 5k in 30 minutes or under.

Proudly showing off my finishers medal!

Poor, poor toesies!

Pride & Glory

Tonight. I decided that...

I AM A
Nut Case!

I have been training for a half marathon since the end of July. Not very well mind you, but at least halfheartedly training for a half. I only made it to about half of the group runs/walks. I've only logged about half the miles I should have. I've been plagued with feet issues from shoes that are just a smidge too small and toes that are just freaky weird (thanks, Dad!). But my determination to complete the race was 100%. Even though my preparation has been halfhearted (or half-witted) it has been my primary focus. I have skipped social engagements, gotten woefully behind in homework, all so that I could hit the pavement, trails and gym as often as possible.

Last Saturday was our final group walk/run before the race. Once again, I took a wrong turn and got lost, making up my own course as I went, keeping an eye on my fancy watch to gauge when to turn around to hit the mileage I wanted. My pace was easy as I was testing out new shoes, I only put in about 4 miles. I headed home determined to get some yard work done before the rains hit later in the week. So it wasn’t until the afternoon that I got around to showering, after which I started to trim my toenails. As I was clipping away my toenail on my right second toe started to move around and then lifted, flapping like a loose sail in the wind. Disgusting! I started poking around the toenail on the left foot and it too was lifting but had not separated from my toe as much. With a bad case of turf toe losing the toenails was inevitable but so gross. I wasn’t sure what to do, I was freaked out. Bandaging them up I decided to ignore them.

I knew loosing the toenails would happen eventually, but was hoping it wouldn’t be until after the race. But I couldn’t pretend there wasn’t a problem, I couldn’t just leave them bandaged until after the event. I had to call my podiatrist and see what was going on. But with that call came fear and apprehension that I may not be able to do the race. “What if Fitzy says it’s a bad idea? What if he tells me I’ll be doing much more damage if I continue with my plans?” It was then that I realized how much my ego and pride were invested in this little venture.

Doing this race was not just a personal goal, like a New Year’s resolution, this was a declaration. A triumphant return to my life. A demarcation of the official end of the recovery season from surgery. I had completed the flat half marathon on July 4, 2005 - it was the last race I did before inflicting the final injury to my back that led to the surgery. It seemed poetic justice to do another half marathon to signal my return. I have been focused on making this statement for the last three and a half months. I had been almost bragging about it in the last few weeks. I was feeling pretty proud of my accomplishment and it wasn’t even reality yet. I wasn’t sure if I could take the humiliation of backing out. Would my recovery be less true? No. Did it mean I hadn’t accomplished anything? No. It would mean that my pride would take a hit; it would not have the crowning glory I had planned. And that was almost more painful than my toes.

On Monday the doc trimmed off the old toenails to reveal teeny misshapen new ones underneath and gave me the go-ahead for the race. I exhaled relief, and signed with resignation; what can I say? I’m complicated. But I started to think about my priorities, about pride and the Biblical view of pride. I was starting to get uncomfortable. Then Tuesday came. I had my one year follow-up with the spine surgeon. He was impressed that I was doing a half marathon, but also admonished me to walk most of it, that a half should really be the cap for my distances; and then he checked that I wasn’t doing anything really crazy like bungee jumping or skydiving. I may be a nut, but I'm not stupid. I guess doing lots of halfs are not in my future, even with a bionic back. But that wasn’t going to stop me from doing this half. But Wednesday hit like a semi-truck. As I was getting ready for the day a muscle down my neck started spasming. I ignored it with the logic it would work itself out. But as I was driving to work, to see my blind spot I had to turn my whole body – not good. Thankfully my chiropractor was able to fit me in at lunch. I still had to support my head with my hands to lean my head back, but I could at least turn side to side which was a major improvement.

So despite banged up toes, warnings from the spinal surgeon, and a neck that is out of whack, come Sunday I am tackling a half-marathon. Yes, I am a nut case! But one who is going to “Run Like Hell” for 13.1 miles and feed my pride and make my statement!

360 Days Later

It has been one year since my spinal surgery on 9/28/2009. Am I 100%? Not quite. Was it a success? Absolutely! A few weeks before my surgery I went out for lunch to a Chinese restaurant and found this in my fortune cookie:
"A bold and dashing adventure is in your future within the year."

I taped it to my monitor at work. A sign of hope for a better future. The months following surgery were rough. But God's mercy has wiped my memory of how bad the pain was. I remember sobbing at my first physical therapy appointment because of the agony, but I don't remember the pain. And that is a blessing. Getting a bionic back has meant a new lease on life. A world that seemed lost to me has been regained.
Consider this evidence:
A month before surgery I was introduced to the Wiggs and the Micah Project. Ten months after surgery - to the day - I arrived in Tegucigalpa, Honduras for the first of many visits to come.

Last Thanksgiving my cousin Rebecca asked if I was still interested in missions. I told her that I was and in fact was thinking God is calling me to a group of street boys in Honduras. This Thanksgiving, I'll be with those boys! That in itself is wonderful, but being able to consider missions again is amazing.

In the spring, The Micah Project newsletter happened to mention that graduation would be November 13th. I put it on my calendar with a pipe dream of being in attendance. By the mysterious economy of God, that dream is going to come true.

Five months before I did the final injury to my back I completed my first half marathon. I thought it would also be my last. October 24th I'll walk/jog my second half and I'm on track to be at my fastest pace ever (which isn't saying much, I'm still pretty slow). And am planning on doing another half in December. I'm moving, I'm active, I've got my groove back!

As surgery was drawing ever closer my inability to cope with the possible negative outcomes were taking a toll. I started to see a counselor, which I have continued to see. It has been a year of bold growth personally.

Life is just better, it's good even. The nerve running down my right leg likes to occasionally freak out, a not so subtle reminder of what I dealt with constantly for years. But it isn't painful, just a nuisance. The vast majority of the time there is no pain. Not being in crippling chronic pain really changes my outlook. In the last year I've made some bold statements and dashing moves. Life has been interesting. But watch out world - I'm just getting started! God has been gracious, He has been mighty in my life and in my healing. All thanks and praise to Him!

Lucky 13

With a very busy weekend, week 12 concludes and lucky number thirteen starts. It's Christmas week and, almost as exciting as the holiday, I can stop wearing my back brace! Woot! Woot! I haven't needed it for most of the day and only required while in the car to strap on the monstrosity. It is so awkward and uncomfortable, especially getting in and out of the car. Although it does hold me in well and flatten out my stomach, and my back muscles could relax while strapped in, it did have it's benefits. But I'm putting those aside for the comfort and freedom of being brace-less. Progress! A real big sign of progress. Despite such a monumental marker in my recovery, I was also reminded today that I am not completely healed. A friend of the family, a freshman in college, came over today and helped me with yard work, for pay of course. All the winter clean-up hadn't been done and with the cold snap a couple weeks ago, I lost several plants and my front porch was looking sad. Now it looks bare. I was busy baking in the kitchen while Jayme worked outside. As I took a break later in the day and sat down on the couch to chat with mom I looked out the window and noticed the nasty dead hanging basket - untouched. Opps! Guess I have a little work left for me.

This week I'll see my brother. The last time was the first weekend of October, the weekend I came home from the hospital after surgery, and he had to "babysit" me while mom went out for her birthday dinner. We watched "Wall-E" and I witnessed my brother being kind, considerate and thoughtful. Remarkable day. Eleven weeks later, perhaps there will be a Christmas miracle and he will give a repeat performance.

And so starts week 12

Somewhere in the last two weeks I finally turned a corner. I started to feel "normal" while still not being quite normal, yet. The muscle spasms have mostly subsided. Every once in awhile when sneezing or while doing my exercises or stumbling into the laundry hamper in the middle of the night the back muscles decide to freak out a little, but nothing like a few weeks ago where I was reduced to tears. I'm able to wiggle and squirm, twist and bend - it's marvelous. I still can't consistently lean over the bathroom sink to wash my face (usually in the morning); and I still need to brace myself with one arm to deal with the oven or dishwasher, but I'm improving.

Last week one of my remote co-workers was in the office to train new peeps. He was giving me a hard time that I hadn't baked anything for him during his visit and generally giving me grief - there is a reason his nickname is Mr. C-P, short for Cranky Pants. But you can't hold it against him as he resembles the lovable Fozzie bear. Anyways, he starts acting silly, teasingly acting out putting something in the oven all wobbly and twisted, while commenting snidely, "What?! Can't you use the oven?" In between my laughter I mention that is pretty much exactly what I look like trying to get something in or out of the oven, and the dishwasher too. Mr. C-P then sheepishly said, "oh." But quickly chimed in with, "Get wall ovens then!" It was all very amusing, but it also proves a point - I'm looking "normal" again, but I'm not quite there yet. And that can be challenging when people expect me to be charging ahead at full steam.

After 11 weeks of recuperating, I'm taking one big leap into "normal" life - I go back to work full time. I've been working 6 hour days and last week all but one was in the office. But to go back to 8 hour days (9 including a lunch break) all at the office seems a bit daunting. My sleep schedule is still off. I go to bed to late and can't get up early. That is going to have to change. I expect I'll be wiped out when I get home in the evening. I would try to cheer myself on with "Rah! Rah! Make it to the weekend and you can rest!" But the coming weekend is busy. Friday night is the HOTEL Christmas party which I'm very much looking forward to, I haven't seen my guys since August. Saturday is my Bible study Christmas brunch - at my house. Sunday evening is my book club holiday party (yes, holiday - as several in the group are Jewish, it's a Chrismukah or Hannumas party). So much for resting after a full week. I'll be looking forward to Christmas break just so that I can sleep.

Week 12 starts with some big new goals: get to work on time, stay awake all day, get my work done. The challenge isn't only physical, but social. Even though I have been working shorter days, I've been more productive working at home. Less social interaction, less distraction, more diligence, more concentration - telecommuting works well for me. Well, tomorrow it's back to the grind...

Updates! Updates!

Below you will find my newsletter from September in two jpeg files. Beyond that is a shorter update from the beginning of November. Yes, it is all about my surgery - pretty much.



Yes, I am extremely overdue in sending out an update. Six weeks and a few days later here it is. The four hours of surgery on 9/28 was successful. Whether the result will be the desired outcome is yet to be seen; that won’t be decided until I’m 3-6 months out from the surgery. It takes that long for the fusion to complete and the nerves to heal. Right now I’m able to walk 30-45 minutes at moderate pace without anything going numb, tingling, or causing agonizing pain. So I think it is looking very positive that I’ll be in that 15% category of making a full recovery. Please keep praying to that end!

To say I was naïve about what recovery would be like is a huge understatement. I was completely disillusioned. The first few weeks I could out-sleep any newborn. I didn’t expect to sleep so much. I wasn’t prepared for how fuzzy my brain would be with all the medication. I thought I would only need my mother to stay with me for maybe a week, she finally left me on my own after a month – and still comes over several days a week to help with chores and to drive me places. I was, however, anticipating the nausea from the medication. The first two weeks I was a puking machine; finally I was able to get a prescription anti-nausea which keeps it in control. But that is the only thing that went according to my expectations. All the books I piled together to read during the time have remained mostly untouched. Magazine articles were even too long. Instead, I watched a lot of TV. The HGTV channel mostly. It’s a bad thing to watch home shows that inspire you with projects while being cooped up at home and unable to do a single one. Even so, I have really enjoyed being at home and indulging in my natural inclination to be a bit of a recluse. It was nice to disconnect from our hyper-connected world, thus, part of the reason why this update is so long in coming.

Physical therapy started a couple weeks ago and this past Monday I finally started noticing progress and improvement. I was ecstatic that I was able to do everything Damon told me to do – and without breaking down into tears from pain! We were both pretty happy about no tears. I’m on the road to recovery and while it is longer and much slower paced then I was anticipating, I’m very pleased with the progress I’m making. One of the hardest things to do is to sit in a chair for any length of time or bend forward (as in to get things in and out of the oven or shave my legs).

Thank you so much for all your prayers, notes of encouragement, and visits. I feel very blessed. To all those who have emailed me in the past six weeks asking after my health – thank you so much, I really appreciated it, even though I didn’t answer.
I am sort of starting to get back into the world at large, hopefully I will see you soon!
Cheers! Jennifer Streger

Cool! I'm proud of these pics!