Recovery Week

Recovery has new meaning. 

Time is such an interesting thing really.  16 months of Cancer Treatment and Recovery, then suddenly I'm living life again, running, and having to recover from that.  Let me re-type...Getting.... to recover from that!  Running is something that I originally took up pretty much after Adaline was born as a stress reliever and a social outlet that could happen early in the morning.  (Adaline woke up at 5:50 a.m. without fail for about 3 years in a row so we were already conditioned for that.) After she was born, my exercise outlet/addiction started with Cycling.  Ironically, I switched over to running because it was LESS time consuming! :).

Well, here I am now, in a recovery week of my choice.  I had 2 high mileage weeks in a row including one 40 mile trail run, with little physical issue....UNTIL...the end of that 2 weeks.  No specific cause other than the cumulation of miles and of hill work.  I think that my body just reached it's maximum physical tolerance with what I currently have to work with, and it decided to rebel.  So here I am in recovery week, actuallly having to recover from a setback.  It started with a little ache in my foot then some (different) nerve tingling in my foot.  Now it is a variety of muscle spasms, cramps, and pains throughout the left leg and foot and some in my left hamstrings and piriformis.   I, of course completed my 20 mile run last Saturday knowing that the initial ache in the foot existed.  Some folks might say, well why would you go ahead and run the 20 miler and here's what i'll tell you....Some of it IS indeed due to the fact that there is a certain amount of obsessivity that goes along with being in an ultrarunning situation.  There is also a very strong focus on an end goal and a plan that gets you there.  The OTHER thing that some  might realize about me is that like many older people and probably many other athletes, I am actually constantly managing pains and spasms.  My feet and legs could be compared to a circus in many ways.  Managing the muscle spasms due to Multiple Sclerosis is like balancing on a high wire, and juggling balls at the same time.  A very careful balance of hydration, healthy fat intake, exercise, and stress and anxiety management (which unfortuntely must also be managed while minimizing alcohol intake). Believe it or not, sometimes the hardest of hill work outs actually relaxes the muscles at night allowing the best sleep.  An example of these spasms?  OK.  At night mostly, when I do finally sit down on the couch at around 8:00 with the family for snuggle time, I am mostly uncomfortable the whole time because my legs will not sit still. They are jumping and cramping. It is a bit like Restless Leg Syndrome, I imagine.  I have to posture myself in ways in order to keep them as settled as possible.  I often have to contort them and put pressure on them in specific areas so that they will not kick or jump.  This is often difficult to do when there is a 3 year old climbing on your head, but that is a different issue. It is not comfortable.  Sometimes these spasms can actually cause a slightly strained muscle.  If there is an actual muscle strain due to injury present...the spasms are all the much worse.  All of the muscles around the injury go into hyper mode.  I believe this is a normal proctecive mechanism that our bodies perform, however mine are in hyperdrive, or uncontrolled.

This all going on prior to cancer.  Enter chemotherapy, mastectomy and radiation and the 3rd ring of the circus is added.  Additional numbness in toes and fingers and a severely tight right upper quadrant are a bit like managing the constant threat of the tiger. One can never let the gaurd down on that or the tightness of the "beef jerky" muscles take on a life of their own.

The point of all this being that, in my defense, I'm so very accustomed to managing this kind of thing on a daily basis that it at makes it difficult for me to know when the full on cascade of pain spasm pain spasm.... will begin.  This is one of those times.  So here I am...blogging instead of running the 15 miles on my schedule....sitting on my couch for the first time on a Saturday morning that I can remember since?  at least sometime during radiation.

The good thing about this recovery week is that, while it does cause me some anxiety about the possible difficuly it could cause me during my "A" race, I still feel pretty happy.  It is currently 55 degrees out and raining.  A perfect day to NOT be out running.  And I'm getting to spend some quality time with the family....

And I'm having a few extra moments to think about what happens next.
 
I've decided NOT to remove the PORT until after the race.  
Funny things happen when one of your training partners happens to be a psychologist!

Was it meant to be that when I sat on the toilet this morning I looked down and saw the Lululemon Bag that that is covered in quotes (that my friend had given me a gift in) and I noticed the quote...

"Life is full of Setbacks.  Success is determined on how you handle setbacks. "

Hmm. 

I will rest today and watch the rain.  I will feel good tomorrow  :)
14 days until 50 miler.

To Ellen:

Ellen,
 

This is the letter that I wrote and wanted to send to you when I thought I had 1500 words to use. The one I sent with 1489 ish characters was edited from this letter.
I originally posted this on Friday, May 13, but i'm going to keep posting it at the top, until you get a chance to read it.

Dear Ellen,

Cindy Left, Me Right

I’m writing this because my very good friend Cindy, who has been the “team captain” of the support team of my friends for many years, really wants me to (and because it would surprise the hell out of her if she found out that I did).  Cindy has tried a few times to submit my name and my story to you and your show, because she wants to see me get a new handicapped accessible van, in order to simplify my life. 

I do think it would help, and it would be fun to meet you, so, here I go:

I was born in Bemidji, Minnesota in 1970, which is apparently the reason that I was later struck with Multiple Sclerosis in 1993 at the age of 23.  Or, so it is the only reason I’ve found.  For some reason, more women from the north half of this continent gets M.S.  But that’s not the story.  The M.S. freaked me out at first and I got really lazy and fat and was afraid to exercise, but then I got really tired of that and decided to mentally beat that disease and physically take my body back.  Well, it either partly worked, or I just got “lucky” and acquired the less debilitating kind of MS.   I went on with my life, completed Physical Therapy school, spent 4 years in a rock-n-roll band as a drummer, and then traveled Southeast Asia and Mexico.  At some point, I decided to settle down, got married, and began to really focus on the exercise again. It was the M.S. 150 bike ride from Houston to Austin that really got me addicted.  After two years of completing that ride, and the completion of my first ½ marathon, my husband and I got pregnant.  Here’s where the story begins in my eyes.

In October 2003, my beautiful baby girl, Adaline, was born.  Well…. extracted, in a hurry.  It was an emergency C-Section, and she was immediately rushed off to the NICU with Grand Mal Seizure requiring intubation.  After blood tests, CT scans and EEGs we were told that she had lost ¾ of her hemoglobin during what they called a Fetal to Maternal bleed. This caused her Moderate/Severe Brain damage and her seizures.  She would likely not walk or talk. Despite her angelic looks, her innate beauty and her captivating smile, the first three or so years of her life were pretty much Hell for the three of us.  Yes, my husband Richie and I did somehow manage to stay together despite all odds (Most folks with disabled children divorce, and Richie’s mother- in- law believing in her heart that he wasn’t the one).  During the first 3 years, myself and my husband both pretty much entrenched ourselves in exercise, I believe to fight off, or to ignore the sadness.  He began racing bicycles, and really wanted to win a race for Adaline, for some reason (which he did J).  I went on to run marathons, including the Boston Marathon.  Somehow though, the desire to have another child, despite the ridiculous, and ultimately frightening nature of that idea, kept creeping in.  At some point, after 4 years, my husband gave in and we had our beautiful baby boy Ace.  It was not an emergency, and it was “how it was supposed to be”.  I bounced right back after that pregnancy and C-Section.  I began running again and then found trail running.  I was a natural, and I loved it, and things both on the trail, and at home were going very well.  It was a great 2 years!

One week after my last trail race (in which I placed 6^th female J), I found a lump in my right breast.  Of course I assumed it was hormonal, because I’d had a “history” of being  “hormonal”.  Within 3 days it began to hurt, and within 1 week I found myself with my breasts in a clamp. (Mammogram).  Approximately 20 minutes after the mammogram, the Radiologist was sitting next to me saying something I could not hear.  I asked her to repeat what she had just said,  and then she said….”you have Cancer”.  That was August 27^th 2011.  So, since then, I’ve been busy with full time work, a 2-3 year old, a 7 year old in a wheelchair, Biopsy, Chemotherapy, Surgery , right mastectomy, and now radiation.  The left mastectomy and reconstruction are planned after radiation.   Yes, I am still trying to exercise.

Since Cancer, my 1999 Toyota Sienna, which is a great car, has proceeded to break at all of the handles.  For example, in order to get the 3 year old into his seat, I have to crawl to the back seat from the front seat, with him to strap him in because the side door no longer opens.  In order to get the wheelchair into the back, I have to crawl into the back to pop the hatch from the inside out to open it.  The repair is going to cost $600 and I’m just stuck. Because I don’t think the car is worth that, I won’t take it in.  Not to mention, it is disgustingly dirty, as it hasn’t been cleaned in over a year.

So, here’s where my friend Cindy thought that you, Ellen, could come in. 

Sincerely,

Emily "Powerhouse" Howell


P.S. Recently, my work called and told me that the therapy clinic I work(ed) in is being closed.  My job will no longer exist when I am released back to work.

I do also have a blog (which now it seems that all breast cancer survivors have) if you are interested in more details, or just plain “oh look, there’s a car wreck” entertainment. J

Ballotable Records    Of Cancer and Trail Dreams

www.BallotableRecords.blogspot.com