The spinal story

Because some of you have expressed interest in the details of what's going on with my back, I thought that I'd briefly explain. I planned to post this on the day that the wonderful Kathleen Coy bobcat painting arrived. I scrapped those plans in a big hurry!

The reason why I had my most recent surgery and my earlier ones is that I have rapidly degenerating discs that began causing pain when I was a teenager. This surgery was my third spinal surgery. The first has a discectomy in my lower back - and turned out to be no help whatsoever. By four years later, that disc level plus an adjacent one had to be fused because my body had digested the remnants of the discs, and the vertebrae sat 'bone-on-bone' with no remaining discs between them.

The surgery that I had two weeks ago was a similar surgery but in my neck region. I've known for years that this surgery would eventually become unavoidable because my discs (the red layer between the vertebrae below) are disintegrating. Indeed, at the three disc levels where I had surgery, the discs were almost completely gone, leaving my vertebral bodies scraping against each other.

As a response to the instability of having almost no discs, my body started building bony spurs to try to hold the vertebrae stationary relative to each other. Those bony spurs pressed on the spinal cord (the thick yellow cord in the top middle of the picture) and on the nerves leaving the spinal cord.

This pressure was damaging the nerves and causing myriad symptoms, including pain in my neck and arms, muscle atrophy, and lack of sensation in my right hand.
So, two weeks ago, the surgeon went into my neck from the front (anterior). He first drilled out the remaining disc material at each of three levels and suctioned it out. He shaved off the bone spurs, including ones that were pressing on my throat and making it hard to swallow.

After cleaning up all the errant disc material and bone spurs, the surgeon carefully levered open the space between the vertebrae and placed bone grafts in the spaces. The goal is that my body will build more bone around the grafts, fusing the vertebrae to each other. Thus, four vertebrae will become one long bone.

The problem is that, during healing, the spine must remain stable, with little bending or twisting. To aid with this part, the surgeon placed metal plates on the front of my vertebrae to hold them in place relative to each other. In the picture below, only two discs have been removed so the plates are not as extensive as in my case.
The plates play an important role only during healing. After my body builds enough bone to fuse the vertebrae together, the plates are superfluous because the bone fusion is much stronger than the metal plates. However, unless I have more neck surgery in the future, the plates will remain in place. It's not worth a whole surgery just to remove them.

In my case, we had a very tough decision to make. In fact, four neck discs are disintegrated, including one (C3-4) that we ultimately decided to leave alone. The reason is that C3-4 can still move, so it protects the discs above it from degenerating even faster than they would if C3-4 were fused. As soon as a joint is fused, the discs just above and below it begin self-destructing at a faster rate because the joints undergo much more motion to make up for the fused section of the spine.

So, my surgeon and I know that C3-4 is causing me pain and will continue to do so. In all likelihood, it'll need to be fused in the next couple of years. But, for the sake of my long term prognosis, we decided to leave it alone for now, to protect the other discs. Our fear is that, in the next 40 years of my life expectancy, I'm heading toward a completely fused neck. That would be very bad - I'd have no head twisting or chin lifting ability. I'd lose my driver's license. I'd have a lot of trouble riding a bike, although I just might figure out a way to ride one!

Yesterday was my first checkup. I had several xrays as I moved my neck through its range of motion to see how the fusion is going. The goal is to see no motion at the fused joints. It's unlikely that will happen yet for me but I'm still awaiting the results.

Everyday for three months, I apply a plate-like apparatus to my neck so that it can bombard my joints with a magnetic field. Bone responds to magnetic fields by growing so this should help my body form stronger fusions. Another thing that causes bone to grow is stress so I'm required to walk miles every day. Each time my heel hits the ground, a shock wave travels up my spine and stimulates the bony fusions to grow stronger.

I still have substantial surgery-related pain. My head gets heavier as the day goes on, and the muscles holding it upright rebel. Moreover, it feels like one particular spot in my spine starts to hurt as the day goes on - I'm not sure what that means. On the good news side, the long-term right arm pain has only visited once since surgery. And, to my utter surprise, the pain in my leg is much less frequent than before surgery. I suspect that the pressure on my spinal cord in my neck was transmitting pain all the way down to my toes. Only time will tell if the improvement in leg pain is permanent.

In terms of the recovery, I've been given a huge range of possible time tables. I suspect that I'll be back on my bike outdoors, riding gingerly, sometime this spring but the exact time depends on how quickly my body heals.

Exhilarating walk but long day

K and I hiked on air this morning, feeling happy and free as we wandered our forest. Your wonderful gift buoyed my spirits, giving me a happy bounce to my gait.

We hiked through a golden-hued meadow.
From the meadow, we climbed a local peak, hoping to glimpse the mountains. Instead, we saw a veil of clouds covering the Divide. A cold wind stung my face as I gazed at the peaks.
Soon enough, we headed down through another meadow, where scents in the wind intrigued K.
I was curious to figure out what scent K was sampling but we needed to head home. It was time to drive to the hospital for tests to check the progress of the bony fusions that should be forming between my vertebrae. The hospital is hours away so it was a taxing day. Although the xrays haven't been analyzed yet, all signs point toward a normal recovery. I'm happy about that but I'm ready to go to sleep (and it's only 6 PM here!). Good night!

Stunned beyond words

The title says it all. My blogging friends floored me today. They left me in awe of the friendships that I've forged through this invisible connection called the web.

A few weeks ago, I posted that I'd declared 2010 to be the Year of the Bobcat for me. I hoped to find the strength, flexibility, and resilience of our magnificent wild felines as I navigated the path ahead of me, including spinal surgery.

Today, my friend SMRP delivered an astonishing gift from a group of blogging friends that made made me grin so widely that I thought that my face would crack in half. Wow - a gorgeous Kathleen Coy painting of a bobcat, framed and ready to hang on my wall. The details of the cat's face, fur, and tufted ears are exquisite. His eyes radiate the quiet strength that I know resides in the soul of such a tenacious survivor. Below, I've borrowed a copy from Kathleen Coy's website.
I must say thanks to every single one of you who read my blog and leave supportive comments. Recovering from a major surgery can be an isolated and lonely journey but your encouragement has lifted my spirits every single day.

When I started blogging, I had no idea that I'd find such kind souls who would reach out to me so thoughtfully. I truly didn't have a clue... it's been an amazing surprise!

I plan to put the painting next to where I have breakfast to inspire me to live up to the moniker of the "Year of the Bobcat" each day. It will also remind of the friends who stand behind me full of support, strength, and encouragement.

Thanks to all of you!

Peaceful wanderings and coyote tensions

Wandering usually implies an aimlessness, lostness, or lack of goal. However, one of my 'goals' for my surgery recovery time is to wander our woods, finding animals paths and dens that I'd never run across on a bike. That made a gift from SMRP all the more apt. It says "Not all that wander are lost" (JRR Tolkien). I love it!

Today, K and I followed the well-trodden path of an elk herd down a snowy slope. Their route was too obvious to lose, especially when multiple herd members decided to relieve themselves all in the same area.
We followed the vagaries of their route choice, until the footing became too tricky. Then, we dropped down to a packed path.
Near the elk super-highway, I spotted tracks that looked like a mountain lion had also followed the herd. The stride length and straddle fit the bill for a lion. He dragged his paws slightly in the snow but I couldn't find a clear track. So, it was probably a lion but I wasn't certain. I wanted to backtrack him, to see his exact path, but the footing looked too treacherous for a person who's supposed to be 'taking it easy' while recovering from spinal surgery. So, I didn't.
When I arrived home, I felt a little beleaguered, wishing that I could follow my whims in the forest. So, I looked back at photos from my first big hikes after my spinal fusion surgery four years ago. They looked pretty spectacular. It's worth taking it easy so that I have these hikes in my future! I also love that my S is in the photo below.
This evening, the pack headed out for a hike, enjoying complete solitude on the trails. R zipped around like his usual high-voltage self. Here, I called him and he sprinted at warp speed straight at me.
At the last instant, he dug in all four heels and stopped, sending snow crystals flying into the air.
The skies emanated blues, purples, whites, and pinks.
To the west, they clouds looked threatening and whipped a cold wind in our faces. Our winter friend, the wind, is making a return.
As we finished our hike, R stood like a statue in the midst of the skeleton grove of aspens. Dusk was peacefully falling on our forest, and it was time to hike the last few yards toward home. Recently, our wildlife cameras have been occupied away from our house, monitoring lion carcasses, among other things. For last night, I pointed our infrared camera at the base of our birdfeeder to find out if the coyotes were still visiting on a nightly basis. For the first time, I set it to take 1 minute video clips whenever an animal came within its view. A trio of coyotes chowed down on fallen birdseed. Then, something alarmed all of them - either an intrapack altercation or something outside the camera view.



Now, I've moved the camera back to the bobcat and rabbit boulder, where scat markings and scrapings indicate a recent flurry of bobcat activity. It'll be interesting to get video of the bobcats.

A sleepy day and mountain lion clarification

I started my day with a wander in the woods with K by my side. Although the day dawned with a low cover of clouds, the ceiling began to retreat while we walked.

We headed up to Hug Hill, and the juxtaposition of blue skies, wind-shaped clouds, and snowy mountains reminded me how lucky I am to have this spot easily accessible from my home.
K's dark silhouette loomed dramatically against the sky.
From Hug Hill, we plummeted down a north-facing slope to a favorite trail. Actually, I very carefully found a safe route to avoid falling, mostly following a packed path left by our elk herd. I love following in their tracks.

We reached a beautiful viewpoint that we haven't visited in months due to deep snow. I gazed at the mountains.
And, K wriggled on her back. I believe that wriggling in the snow is K's way of expressing joy.
We turned around at that point, hurrying home so that K could go to the vet and have her staples removed from her belly incision. The surgeon declared that she needed one more week of leash-only walking before we gradually allow more activity. I don't mind - I've enjoyed having my chocolate friend right by my side while we both heal. However, I suspect that K is eagerly anticipating a rambunctious romp through the snow.
While K was gone, R decided that he needed to take on the 'guarding KB' role. Everywhere I went, R hovered nearby.
Finally, I decided that I was too sleepy to try to write a blog post (I really didn't expect the extent of fatigue that I've had since surgery), and R and I snoozed together. He's such a sweet soul. And, he has impeccable taste in human friends. He and K worship SMRP, as you can see in the photo taken during our hike yesterday.
Houndstooth asked a good question in a comment yesterday, asking why the lion expended so much energy to move his deer carcass, only to allow scavengers to steal the remains. One thing that wasn't clear from my presentation was that the lion moved his cache on Jan 6 (Day 4 - see the video here).

Then, because we didn't know about the sneaky lion's move, our cameras remained at the former cache site, recording no photos for days. It wasn't until Jan 10 (Day 8) that we checked the cameras and discovered that the cache had been moved. I suspect that the mountain lion ate the remainder of the deer meat during that interval. Interestingly, mountain lions don't eat or gnaw on bones because their teeth aren't specialized for that tough job. Consequently, mountain lions always leave the bones for the the coyotes, who do the hard work of extracting nutrients from the bones themselves.

I'm still working hard on the 'documentary' style video montage of the hundreds of photos and video clips we collected. It's slow work but here's one of my favorites so far from the day the mountain lion moved his cache.

Sweet walk with K and final installment of lion story

K and I managed to tramp up to Hug Hill this morning, enjoying a view that we haven't seen in a long time! The hill itself was barren of snow but the north-facing hike was entirely on well-packed snow.We hung out, gazing at our mountains and feeling lucky to be capable of hiking to our favorite spot on our trail network.
K seemed energetic and even insistent about checking out scents and bushes during our hike. I thought that was a good sign that she's recovering from her major surgery. After her staples come out tomorrow, she'll be allowed to gradually ease back into off-leash hiking.
On our way down the hill, we checked on the second spot where the mountain lion had hidden his prey (see the previous posts about this saga here, here, and here). The only hint of the drama was the bed of deer fur covering a small area where he'd hidden his cache for the second time.
We checked our wildlife cameras. Here was what the scene looked like when we departed more than a week ago. A small pile of bones lay under the pine trees.
That very night, at least one coyote arrived. The bone pile is barely visible above his head.
After a frustrating 3 minute gap in photos, all the bones had vanished.
A coyote checked the area once more the following afternoon at sunset.
After finding no more bones, he posed handsomely for the camera before departing for good.
From that date forward, no more wild animals visited the spot. Amazingly, it seems as if wild animals ate almost every last morsal of the deer. Barely any calories from the mule deer were wasted. The deer became an integral part of a mountain lion, a raven, a magpie, and a coyote, living on in their bodies and spirits.

Indeed, a few days after the last photo of the coyote, we found a fresh deer leg that had been dragged toward our house from the site. We carried it home to put in the garbage. We don't need any more excitement involving our dogs eating deer bones, let me tell you!
Finally, a sunset photo, from yesterday.
Despite the beauty of yesterday's sunset, today's afternoon hike was one of my best ever because I had the company of my friend SMRP. I'm an extraordinarily lucky person to have a friend like her.

A better day

K and I headed out into another dim day on the Front Range. The absence of blue skies for two days in a row constitutes a rare event around here.
We're taking advantage of being on foot, rather than on a bike, by exploring nooks and crannies of our world that are not next to trails. As we took an easy gradient up a hillside with no trails, K's body language suddenly broadcast an alert that an animal was nearby.
Her sinuous muscles tensed and her nose sampled the breeze. I looked up the grassy hillside and spotted two coyotes purposefully trotting away from us. They squeezed under a barbed wire fence, trotted some more, squeezed under another fence, and disappeared into an aspen forest. K found them more exciting than yesterday's elk, let me tell you!

After leaving the meadow-like hillside, we wound our way through a boulder-strewn ponderosa pine forest. I was specifically looking for scent posts of bobcats or lions that might serve as good wildlife camera sites. We found no scent posts but we found a rocky promontory that K conquered! The snowy mountains are barely perceptible in the gray sky behind K.
This rocky pinnacle marked the start of a steep north-facing ravine that wildlife loves. I wanted to explore the ravine but my body isn't ready for such rough terrain. Soon enough, it will be. For today, K seemed obsessed with looking down the ravine in a nervous way. I wondered what she sensed. I didn't see any tracks that alarmed me.
When I stood on the tip-top of the rocky pinnacle, I saw a view of our mountains that I haven't spotted before. The high mountains in the background have a deep covering of snow, and the ski area in the foreground looks inviting. I think that we'll visit this spot again!
On a later walk, R joined us, adding a spritz of high voltage energy to our outing. I just love watching that boy run! His exuberance makes me grin.
On our arrival home, K seemed a bit subdued. I have the impression that she feels left out when R can romp while she's leashed due to the vet's orders. Since having a job to do for me always cheers her up (even when it's an awful job like picking up keys :), I asked her to pick up an extra-long shoe horn that I'd dropped. No problem, she said!



Now, lucky me, I have a Labraduo watching over me. K stays right by my side, quietly watching and waiting to see if I need her. But, she sometimes dozes on the job! The tee-shirt is to keep her from scratching her itchy incision on her belly. The vet will remove the staples on Friday, making K a much happier pup!
And R stays close by also. Since my surgery, I've learned even more about the sweet soul residing within this happy-go-lucky boy. A few times, I've retreated to bed to regroup my body and soul, and R gently snuggles up against me. I've never seen him be so gentle so it makes me feel special.
Thanks to all of you for your advice and uplifting messages yesterday. I kept up with my pain meds today, and, although I hate the goofiness and fog that they cause, my spirits are higher when I don't have such piercing pain in my neck. I'll stick with them for a while longer.

The recovery roller coaster

After every surgery, a day dawns when the reality of the long road ahead truly penetrates my consciousness. Events conspired to anoint today my 'reality day' for this surgery. On my morning walk, even the view of the mountains looked gloomy. But, I reminded myself that I was extraordinarily lucky to be capable of walking to a mountain viewpoint.
The first event that contributed to my dark mood was that the long weekend was over, so I was on my own except for my lovable furry companions. What would I do without them?
Since my surgery, I've had the luxury of family and friends popping in frequently, keeping my mind occupied with fun things. Today, I'm on my own so I need to generate a serene and happy spirit by myself. An upside to the relative solitude is that I'm taking more naps, something that I sorely need. So, there's a good side to everything if I look at it from the right angle.
A second contributor to my less cheery mood was that, for some inane reason that even I can't fathom right now, I decided that I could cut back on my pain meds today. It would be an understatement to say that I wasn't prepared for the avalanche of pain that greeted that decision. Unfortunately, pain tends to be tenacious once it takes hold so returning to yesterday's dosage hasn't made a dent in the pain. I've learned my lesson, and each lesson learned is like a glimmer of sunshine through the dark skies.
The final straw was that I caught a glimpse of a mountain biker zooming by on my road. The sight literally stabbed me in the heart. I desperately wished that I was on a bike, flying free. But, to look on the bright side, I'm lucky that I'm allowed to ride a recumbent stationary bike to keep my heart and legs prepared for the day when I can ride a bike outdoors.
Alas, I know from past experience that I just have to slog through this phase until I'm able to focus on the glimmer of hope far away on the horizon.

I took a number of short walks on our snow-packed trails today. I have to be super careful not to fall during the recovery period. To enhance traction on the slippery trails, I have 'screw boots', a pair of Sorels with sheet metal screws drilled into their treads. They work as well as commercial traction devices, and they don't wear out or fall off.
On our first walk of the morning, K and I intersected the elk herd, who were just about to cross 'our' meadow. This herd frequently encounters people and dogs hiking the trails so they simply retreated into the trees, watched us hike almost out of sight, and then resumed their trek.
At instants like the one when K spotted the herd, I'm glad that I spent innumerable hours training her to walk politely on a leash. She watched them with interest but didn't yank on me, which would have been a disaster for my neck. Normally, K is off-leash (and doesn't chase elk even then) but her surgery recovery requires leash-walking for 2 weeks.
On a later walk, R joined us, and he was a model citizen. He romped off-leash but stayed close and responded to every cue. I can't call him as loudly as usual because of the swelling around my throat but he heeded the softest call! Both K and I were jealous of his romping as we plodded along the trails.
Tomorrow will be another, perhaps brighter day. I'm lucky to have wild forest surrounding my house so that I can sample a modicum of nature each day while I do my rehabilitation walks. That makes all the difference to my spirit.

And, the support of my blogging buddies keeps me smiling!