Tag: Injury

Daily Life

Mid Week Thoughts

I’m trying to avoid another long, rambling post inspired by my Norse ancestors that discusses in excruciating detail the world history of invasion and conquest. Therefore I’ll keep today’s post to some short random thoughts.

  • Mrs Troutdog and I have been in-transit, traveling, and otherwise had zero predictability in our schedules for at least a month now (if not longer). We came home to a refrigerator whose sole contents were half a bag of shredded cheese, mayonnaise, and two eggs. We didn’t want to shop because we’re heading out again and won’t be back until next week. I made a comment of something along the lines of “whew, it’ll be nice when we finally get back to a regular schedule”. This morning I remembered an older post I’d written addressing this false feeling. It’s a crutch to think that “as soon as things calm down” I’ll get back to my routine. I’ve been using that crutch all summer. The harsh truth is that I don’t have a routine to get back to. It’s past due time to fix that.
  • I have no idea who this politician is since I’m not Canadian. Doesn’t matter – take a moment and watch this exchange. It’s a masterclass on how to handle the press. Journalism is garbage today. This “journalist” exemplifies the media establishment. He throws out vague statements like “a lot of people would say” and “taking a page out of Trumps playbook”, yet can’t define or articulate what any of those things or people are. We need people who can call this garbage journalism out and push back on the standard narrative.
  • It’s an El NiƱo year and hard to tell what the snow is going to do in my part of the world. I’m torn. I want snow. We’re also in the desperate last stages of a hardscape project in the backyard that’s going to be down to the wire to complete before snowfall. I think I’ll selfishly wish for a delayed start to the season so my project can get done.
  • Speaking of ski season, I don’t know what to expect this year. I’m having surgery to repair torn abdominal muscles in a few weeks. The surgeon says I should be able to be back on the slopes in six weeks. That puts me at mid-December. In theory I should be good to go. This will be my first ever surgery. How I managed to not seriously hurt myself before this is a mystery. I have no idea what to expect. (note to self, go re-read my first point)
  • It’s fall in my part of the world and we have leaves. Lots and lots of leaves falling. I filled up six bags plus the garbage can a few days ago. There’s easily another six to eight bags worth of leaves that have fallen since then. Picking up leaves is not among my favorite yard work tasks.
  • I find it interesting that the Russia-Ukraine conflict has produced 600,000-800,000 wounded and dead. Nobody is calling for a cease-fire or pleading to protect innocent civilian life. Israel strikes back at Hamas after being brutally attacked and there’s near instantaneous wailing and gnashing of teeth to cease-fire and protect precious innocent civilians. Why is that?
  • Speaking of Hamas, the hospital being bombed story last night was the perfect representation of how the media covers the conflict. Something explodes at a hospital and Hamas instantly accuses Israel of intentionally targeting and bombing a hospital. 500 people killed! Oh, the humanity! What sort of butcher would do such a thing? The media ran with it. Members of congress condemned Israel for it. And this morning… oops, it was Hamas’ own rocket that landed in a parking lot with an unknown number of casualties, but certainly not 500. The retractions and apologies for the false story? Crickets…
  • This is our president making a statement in a pivotal moment for a potentially dangerous and escalating conflict. It’s embarrassing and frightening. I can only imagine what other world leaders are thinking. If you voted for Biden, can you now honestly say that you feel good about that choice? Was a protest vote against Trump worth having a dementia patient in charge? The curious thing is… who’s really calling the shots? We know it’s not Biden.
  • I’m going fly fishing this weekend on one of the hardest and trickiest rivers to fish. It’s world-renown. We’re going with a guide, so at least I have a tiny chance of landing something. My single goal is to not embarrass myself too badly. There’s a reason I haven’t attempted to fish this stretch before. Wish me luck.

And that’s that. Another week and a half of travel and non-routine. Then surgery and recovery. Interesting times. Go out and do something fun in the fall colors. Winter is just around the corner!

Daily Life, Health, Motivation

And The Answer Is…

If you’ve been following along at home, you’ll remember that I recently did something I shouldn’t have done. I thought I was twenty again and spent the day lifting furniture. I figured I’m a dude, so of course I can still do that sort of thing. The problem is that as you age the connective tissue becomes less supple and thinner. Years of slowly becoming deconditioned take their toll. The end result is injury.

In my case it’s a hernia and a separated linea alba. My abdominal muscles pulled apart, allowing the tissue below to bulge out. Yesterday I got the official word – lots of PT and surgery.

Age is a weird thing. It creeps up on you. Mentally I certainly don’t feel old. Up until recently I didn’t feel terribly old physically either. Oh sure, I couldn’t do things to the level I could when I was younger – but I was still out there doing it. I’ve always felt that compared to lots of guys my age I’m doing pretty good.

But this year felt different. Especially this summer. Yes I’ve put on weight before and felt various levels of stronger/weaker throughout the years, but the last six months I just haven’t had the mojo. Body parts just hurt. My eyes changed and I had to get new glasses. My balance is noticeably worse. I’ve had lots of little nagging injuries. And my weight, and the motivation to do anything about it, just hasn’t budged.

For the first time, I honestly feel old.

And now this. The unfortunate part is that the warning signs were flashing neon red. Rapid weight gain. A low back injury last year was the foreshadowing that my transverse abdominals were weak and deconditioned. I skied a bunch last winter, but otherwise didn’t do much physical activity. For a variety of reasons, my usual summer activities (hiking, mountain biking, motorcycle riding, etc…) have been pretty sparse this year. Long story short, there’s been more sitting than moving.

A perfect recipe for injury. An older adult going from the couch to moving furniture, or trying out pickleball, or deciding to take up running again, or even just stepping off an awkward height is just asking for problems. As Dr. Peter Attia writes in his book “Outlive”, once you reach your mid-50’s you’re no longer building muscle and strength – you’re desperately trying to maintain what you have. The moment you stop moving, you start going backwards in terms of physical ability.

Muscles atrophy, connective tissue weakens, tendons and ligaments are no longer supple. The key is to recognize the limitations. Unless you’ve continued to actively train, the days of doing box jumps, hill sprints, and explosive dynamic movements are probably in the rear-view mirror. That doesn’t mean you can’t get back to some form of those things… but you need to go very slow and carefully to avoid injury.

Mentally it’s hard to come to grips with that. In my head I’ve always thought that if I just got motivated for a few months and lost a few pounds, I’d be right back to where I was three or four years ago. Reality has a way of itch-slapping you in the face.

The Dr was pretty blunt. The surgical recovery won’t be too bad. Four weeks of not lifting anything. I should be able to ski in six weeks, although not at 100%. It’ll all be dependent on how motivated I am with PT (Hmm, sounds just like I used to lecture my post–operative patients about. What goes around, comes around).

The good news is that the doc cleared me to do any activities I want leading up to the surgery. I won’t make things any worse at this point. The harder I work now, the better my recovery will be. It looks like I have eight weeks to get ready.

Let’s do this.

Daily Life, Health, Motivation

That’s Going To Leave A Mark

I remember the days when you never had to think about doing things. Jumping over fences, climbing trees, picking things up, and running were all activities you took for granted. You just did them. You didn’t worry about stretching beforehand, ensuring you’d eaten enough protein, or if you were using proper form. I think in my head I still feel like that person much of the time. Reality has a way of reminding you those days are gone.

I did what every old man should avoid. I spent a day picking up and moving heavy furniture. I actually felt pretty good doing it. I never felt like I strained terribly hard or had to struggle to lift something. I was tired at the end of the day, but was pleased with myself for the effort I put in. I went to bed satisfied with a good day’s work.

The next morning I did a sit up to get out of bed and a huge alien looking thing popped straight out of my abdomen. I immediately laid back down. Holy shit, what was that? I slowly sat back up and my abdomen had that same big bulge projecting out in an unnatural way. I gingerly pushed and prodded a bit to see if it would go away. I laid back down and closed my eyes for a few minutes. I had a pretty good idea of what happened.

I was in such denial that I ignored it for most of the morning and went about my business. It was approaching lunch time and I snuck back into the bedroom to lay down and see if it was still there. Crap. I knew I was going to need to see a doctor. I reluctantly called in Mrs Troutdog and showed her. She was understandably alarmed. “Oh my god, what is that?”, she exclaimed. That sealed the deal. Off to the walk-in clinic I went.

Long story short I’ve either torn or separated the linea alba. That’s the connective tissue that holds the abdominal muscles together. Sigh.

I don’t know what it means yet. I have a surgical consult next week to see what, if anything, needs to be done about it. The initial doctor said twisting motions should be fine, but don’t be lifting anything. I’m unclear if I can ride a bike, motorcycle, etc…

My prediction is that the answer will be lose weight, strengthen the transverse abdominals, don’t do crunches, sit ups, or deadlifts, and work with physical therapy for some number of weeks. But who knows? Maybe it will require a surgical repair.

My fear is that my new reality will be a long-term limitation to activities in some fashion regardless of the answer. It also means that getting serious about the weight loss, and proper strength training, are no longer optional. Will I have the discipline to actually follow through with it? It’s ironic – as an RN I lectured countless post operative patients that their quality of life will now be dependent upon how dedicated were towards rehab and PT. I’d give a judgmental look at a patient and just know that they won’t do anything to help themselves, and will show up with the same problem a few years down the road.

Looks like I’m finally going to have to eat my own words.

As Dirty Harry said in the movie Magnum Force, “A man’s got to know his limitations.” Clearly, I didn’t know mine.

Daily Life, Health, Motivation

I Don’t Understand How This Happens

Years ago I had a pretty good crash on the mountain bike. A broken rib and big-time shoulder pain. Being a dude, I never really did anything about it. Eventually (like a year+ later) the pain in my shoulder became unbearable. Every night after dinner I’d have to sit with a heating pad on my shoulder to calm the ache down enough to be able to sleep. Finally, I went in to have it looked at. An MRI confirmed what the doc suspected with his physical examination – a torn supraspinatus (part of the rotator cuff) and subsequent arthritis since I never did anything about the injury when it happened. Side note – the big-ass needle used to inject contrast dye deep into the shoulder hurt way more than the injury itself.

The doc said that the tear wasn’t large enough justify surgery and prescribed PT. I went for a while. I’ve mentioned before that the gym isn’t my thing so eventually, I abandoned any sort of structured rehab. Fast forward and the end result has been that my shoulder always hurts. Any sort of overhead pulling or pushing motion is a no-go, which has always been my excuse for not doing pullups.

Anyway, over the winter I started using a strength conditioning coach and we worked pretty hard on my shoulder. For the first time I started seeing progress. The pain was going away. My range of motion improved enough that I was able to slowly start working on the pullup motion. Hey, maybe this really was fixable! A pain free shoulder would be amazing.

Well, me being me… I’ve fallen off the workout wagon the last two months. Life, ugly weather, and the previously mentioned hatred of the gym makes it super hard to stay motivated. Yeah, a pitiful excuse I know. It is what it is.

So, three days ago I woke up, rolled over and tried to get out of bed. Intense shooting pain in that shoulder. Unable to even lift my arm type of pain. It’s the exact same spot and exact same pain I had previously. It’s gotten slightly better, but I still can’t lift my arm over my head without pain. It aches all day long.

I have officially reached the age where I manage to hurt myself sleeping. I don’t even understand how this is possible? How in the world do I sleep in a funny position for long enough that it torques my shoulder sufficient enough to re-aggravate an old injury? I mean, seriously? Who hurts themselves sleeping?

To make matters worse, I leave in a week for a three-day offroad motorcycle class. It’s guaranteed there will be multiple crashes and frequent picking up of a 500+ pound motorcycle. I don’t know how this is going to work if my shoulder continues to feel like it does right now.

Currently I’m vacillating between giving in to old age or resolving to spend two hours in the gym every day. Sigh… I’m not going to give in, but man it sure is hard sometimes to remain motivated.

Now I’m afraid to go to sleep for fear of what new injury I’ll wake up to.

Health

It’s All About The Butt, Baby

I just got back from the gym. Spent a bunch of time with the strength coach trying to figure out how to fix my back issue. After a lot of pain, tests, and movement analysis the verdict is in. My problem is that I don’t have a butt. None. Zero. My legs just end at my hips.

More specifically, a major part of my problem is that I never engage my glutes when moving. Like, at all. Rotation, lifting, bending, walking, running… my back is doing all the work. And because I have a weak core, it was only a matter of time before something gave out. This also explains why I can’t dance.

The good news is that it’s fixable (maybe not the dancing). The bad news is that it’s going to hurt and it’s not going to suddenly get better overnight. Why-oh-why didn’t I figure this out thirty years ago?

Back in the stone age when I was in high school, there should have been an “adulthood 101” class. The value of compound interest. Investing. Changing a tire. What to make for dinner for the next 50 years. The importance of an actual, daily, fitness regime. Instead, we learned the quadratic equation on the off chance we might someday work with gravitational physics. Oh, and dodgeball.

So here we are. An aging adult who now has to learn how to engage a major muscle group and build up some significant strength – or face daily pain and physical limitations for the next twenty years. Yeah, that’s not intimidating at all.

I was watching show last night that described the decline in physical fitness in the US since the ’60s. The difference in where we are today vs back then is shocking. How in the world did we let that happen as a society? It’s really criminal. The scary part? I don’t think it’s reversible. Excluding some sort of apocalyptic survival of the fittest event… you’re not going to convince 300 million people to suddenly get off the couch every day. Back then President JFK actually said, “…there is nothing “more unfortunate than to have soft, chubby, fat-looking children.” Today, any politician that dared to suggest such a thing for our schoolkids would be instantly shouted down and cancelled. It’s discriminatory. We don’t have the funding. It shames kids who aren’t athletic. It’s racist. We can’t hurt their self-esteem. Besides, it’s really hard to have a proper PE class over Zoom.

I’m now faced with a hard decision. I either find a way to push through pain, change my daily routine, and learn a new athletic skill at my age… or I move to the couch, seek out a Norco or Oxy prescription, and accept that my ability to ski, play golf, ride the mountain bike, run, and hike is fading.

I don’t like either choice. I want to go back to the days when I could just do stuff and not worry about injury or pain. I don’t like strength training, never have. I get zero enjoyment from going to the gym. But I don’t like pills and I don’t want to give up my activities. It’s a quandry.

I’m not a quitter. Hopefully, this is the catalyst to make those necessary health changes I’ve been meaning to get around to. Because as a very wise man once said, “I do mind, the Dude minds. This will not stand, ya know, this aggression will not stand, man.”

The Dude abides. Now excuse me, I’m headed to the gym.

Daily Life, Health

I Got Hurt. Now What?

Back in the stone age when I played Pop Warner football as a kid, I remember getting my bell rung. Full speed, helmet to helmet, I’d made a pretty spectacular tackle. Or so they told me, as I had zero memory of it. I staggered off the field and sat dazed on the sideline, trying to remember where I was and what I was supposed to be doing. The coach came over and asked if I was ready to go back in. I answered that I didn’t know. He gave a deep sigh and asked, “well son are you hurt or are you injured?” I have no idea what I said, but eventually someone stuck some smelling salts under my nose, and I went back on the field. Today I’m sure I’d have been diagnosed with a minor concussion and sidelined for a few weeks.

I was never quite sure what was the worst part in that saying – being hurt or being injured? I think being injured is the worse one. I imagine injured is broken bones or torn ligaments. Being hurt means it’s time to pull your big boy pants up and get back after it. Suck it up, buttercup.

When you get older, getting hurt rarely involves anything dramatic. Usually, it’s something stupid like stepping awkwardly off the bottom rung of a ladder, walking into an open cabinet, or slipping on some ice. In my case it was something even more mundane. I bent over. That’s it. I bent over to pick something up off the floor and BAM, it was like someone hit me with a baseball bat in the low back. Sigh.

Now in my defense, I had just come home from the gym and a pretty hard back and squat session. But still, a muscle strain bending over – really? Is this what old age looks like? The worst part was that I was scheduled to do a two-day backcountry motorcycle trip in a few days. Determined not to miss out, I consumed a frightening amount of Ibuprofen, applied non-stop heat, and subjected myself to hours of electrical stimulation using a TENS unit set to cattle prod levels. All of that got me on the bike and I survived. Although, sleeping on the ground with just a thin pad and a sleeping bag is not an ideal recovery plan after a full day of motorcycling. Just saying.

So now what? I went to the trainer when I got back, and after a pretty thorough evaluation, he essentially said that the answer was movement. I needed to move, lift, stretch, and move some more if I want to get better. He said that I wasn’t going to hurt anything or make it worse by continuing my activities… it’s really just up to my pain tolerance as to what I can do.

Crap. What I wanted to hear was to sit on the couch for six weeks and let it heal (and eat nachos. I hear eating nachos cures most anything). I have a hard enough time being motivated to work out as it is – trying to be motivated when everything hurts is a tall order. Pulling on a pair of sweatpants in the morning when I’m super stiff and painful is a comedy routine right now. I’m probably going to send myself headfirst into the back of the closet one of these mornings as I try to fling one leg of the pants around an outstretched foot without bending at the waist. I’m sure it’s not a pretty sight.

But I suppose my old Pop Warner coach was right. I’m merely hurt, not injured. Time for some smelling salts and to put on my big boy pants and get back after it. But I will say… this is my first real taste of what old age pain must be like. I can see why older folks are reluctant to move or workout and take large amounts of pain medication. It’s actually scared me a little bit.

I will not let that be my future.

Cool, Daily Life, Health, Travel

A Sacrificial Offering
  • I’ve clearly managed to piss off someone, I’m just not sure who. We’ve had a pretty crappy spring, weather-wise. Cold, rain, and a ridiculous amount of wind. I hate the wind. It’s been windy virtually every day for what seems like months. And not just “breezy” wind, but 20-30 mile an hour winds in the afternoon. Being on a bike or motorcycle in that sort of wind just saps the fun out of everything. I spent too much time this morning trying to figure out what gods I need to appease. Being of Swedish heritage, naturally I first turned to the Norse god Njoror, but his background is really complicated and he leans towards providing wind for sailors. The Aztec god Cihuatecayotl is the god of the west wind, so he seems like a good candidate. Plus, the Aztecs were into the whole sacrifice thing. I haven’t looked into it extensively, but unfortunately I suspect sacrifices are frowned upon in our neighborhood covenants. Perhaps I can just go with a Sopranos style payoff. Meet some intermediary god at a park bench and slip him an envelope. Anyone know the going rate for 3-4 weeks with no wind?
  • I haven’t written much lately. My outrage reservoir overfilled and shorted out the main circuit board. I’ll read and watch the news, feel my outrage temperature rising, sit down to write (vent), and boom, it simply shuts off. I’ll be filled with an overwhelming feeling that there’s simply no point in writing or even thinking about the outrage of the day. I’m not sure if it’s apathy, sensory overload, or just interested in other things, but it’s been hard to figure out what, if anything, I want to write about. I think staying away from nonstop outrage and contrarian thinking may be a healthier choice. Life is too short to sacrifice many brain cycles to crap we can’t do anything about anyway.
  • The travel plans on the ginormous motorcycle have been stalled for multiple reasons. One is weather (see wind rant). Another has been parts outfitting. We’re almost done there. The last piece has been luggage. The bags I ordered were on backorder, but supposedly would be available again at the beginning of this month. I contacted them a week ago and they said another 7-10 days. Fingers crossed. The luggage delay did work out because the bike was due for it’s first service, and due to our massive influx in population, the shop was booked out a month. I finally got that done yesterday, so the bike is good to go. The delay also let me work on improving my riding skills confidence. I’ve spent some time in the dirt now and am really starting to feel better. Now I just have to actually commit to my first trip.
  • A myriad of health issues have plagued me lately, which I will detail for you in excruciating detail at another time. One of them however deserves a special mention because it illustrates how dorky I really am. I developed a neuroma on my foot, which causes a sharp, hot poker stabbing sensation when I run, play golf, etc… I got desperate enough to consult Dr’s Google and YouTube for my diagnosis and treatment. I believe that the root cause was years of shoes that were too small and had too narrow of a toe box. My toes are all janky, overlapping, and I have terrible bunions. The non-surgical solution is something called toe spreaders worn in shoes that look suspiciously like Ronald McDonald clown feet. I’ve been wearing them for a week and so far the neuroma seems to be a bit better. So my only real complaint is one of fashion. Google “natural toe box shoe” and see what comes up. Why do all minimalist and natural fitting shoes have to be so ungodly ugly? Sigh.
  • I got kicked at work the other day. We had a patient who went absolutely batshit crazy (drugs and untreated psych issues) and had to be restrained. We got the patient tied down and I went back to my patients. I got a call a while later to come help and sure enough this patient had managed to get out of all but one restraint. We had about eight people in the room waiting for security to arrive, while the patient frantically tried to get the remaining restraint off. I started getting worried what would happen if he got free and started running amuck in the room. So each time he reached over to try and undo the restraint I’d reach in and move his hand. Every time I did that he’d screech and try to bite me. We did that five or six times until the next time I started to reach in he gave a lightning fast roundhouse kick. I jumped back, but my cat-like reflexes have slowed a bit in my old age. He caught me on my upper thigh. Grrrr. Security arrived and we swarmed him, multiple people on each limb and got restraints reapplied. Funny, I don’t remember reading this chapter in school. I must have been out that day. I’m not sure what was worse, the kick or the amount of paperwork and interviews that had to be done afterwards.
  • An ode to trying new things.

Song of the day: R.E.M. – Shiny Happy People (Official Music Video) I never realized that Kate Pierson of the B-52’s collaborated on this.

Cool, Daily Life, Government, Health, Motivation, Politics

Is That A Key Fob In Your Pocket, Or Are You Just Glad To See Me?

Cool things, random thoughts, advice, and independent thinking from someone whoā€™s been around the sun a few times.

  • I have a small rant. Ok, I rant about a lot of things, but this time I mean it. What is it with the giant car key fobs that weigh like two pounds? I drive an older truck and it has a normal key and a tiny little fob to do the lock/unlock thing. I can also, gasp, just use the key if I don’t want to carry the fob. My wife has a newer vehicle with the fancy keyless, pushbutton start thing. Her key fob is ginormous. Do these manufacturers not realize that normal people sometimes do things where you don’t have a huge purse or backpack to store this brick? Like going for a run, a bike ride, or in my case yesterday, cross country skiing. I clipped the massive key fob to the waist belt thing I wear (DONT call it a fanny pack) and skated off down the trail. The damn key fob was so big it kept falling out of the little pocket in the waist belt and dangling on my hip like a giant set of janitor’s keys (hint, foreshadowing). The trail conditions were a bit challenging yesterday and sure enough, my skate skis went out from under me on some boiler plate ice while going ludicrous speed and I landed directly on my hip on that damn key fob. Now, I’m not a tiny fellow so that’s a lot of weight coming down on a hard plastic brick. It was already swelling by the time I got home. This morning I have a hematoma the size of baseball on my hip. It’s time to rise up and rebel people! Just say no to gigantic key fobs!
  • A few days ago I wrote about investigating the Ct and amplification value of the Covid PCR tests. Sure enough, yesterday we got a call from a friend who was in the exact situation I wrote about. Son is coming home from school for Thanksgiving, had a Covid PCR test done before leaving and it came back positive. He’s completely asymptomatic, feels great. If that test used a high amplification (greater than 30) he could have contracted the virus weeks and weeks ago and is no longer contagious. He also could have gotten it a few days ago and is highly contagious. What are the parents to do? (they opted to quarantine him in his room).
  • Is today the big day? Yesterday Sydney Powell said today she’d be filing the first blockbuster, bombshell lawsuit in Georgia. Trump’s legal team also said they’ll get legislative hearings starting today in Georgia and two other states. Georgia came back and said it’s not a hearing, just an informal presentation. The two other states said this was news to them. What a shit show. One of Trump’s biggest failings has always been the lack of someone who can ensure a clear, consistent message that doesn’t contradict what everyone else is saying. Unclear why that wasn’t obvious with the level of media hostility they’ve faced. When you know the media will pounce and ridicule the slightest mistake or inconsistency, it becomes even more important to get the message right.
  • Yesterday, thirty-two people read the words I wrote. Now, in the blogging world that’s a laughable number. But since my usual number is zero, and I often ask myself why bother, that’s huge. Thank you!
  • A compilation of “If 2020 were a…” memes. Because really, 80% of my internet time is only for the memes.
  • If you didn’t like the film “The adventures of Buckaroo Banzai across the 8th dimension“, you’re dead to me.

Song of the day: Stick Figure “Weight of sound (live)”