October 3, 2013
"Ready....go!" The five of us were hand in hand, two people pulling my right hand in one direction, two others with my left hand in the opposite direction. It was like some sort of medieval torture, although, since our hands weren't gripping well enough, our hands released before there was too much pressure or pain. The idea was that we run in opposite directions, pulling the line as if playing tug-of-war, in order to build running power. Except we didn't have a rope, just human arms and hands. The problem was that our hands were slipping before we could generate any power, so we weren't getting much out of it. So, we had a brilliant idea. And by brilliant I mean stupid. Instead of holding hands, we decided to link elbows to get a more secure grip. This way, we'd be able to generate more leg force before our grip slipped. So, we linked up, Big Andy and Igors on one side, and Laurent and Martins on the other. That's something like 200 kg on each side of me. "Ready...go!" We try it again, arms linked, guys pulling me in each direction, while I try to hold them together with my pecs of steel. My right arm starts to slip out a little, so I adjust my body trying to pull it back in. Briefly, my pride got the best of me, thinking "show them you're tough, Tristan...you can pull 200 kg with each arm!". Except I couldn't. As soon as I tried to flex my arms and chest to pull them closer to me, I heard the pop. It sounded like someone pulling the zipper on a tent...kkkkkkkkkkkkkch. Not good.
I released my arms and tried to shake it off, hoping that it was nothing. Except my arm was frozen into position and I couldn't feel anything. Until it started hurting. Really badly. I tried to relax my shoulder and arm, but it wouldn't move. My shoulder was nearly touching my ear, and it started aching throughout my body.
Coach Przemek called an ambulance and it came within 10 minutes. In the meantime, everyone else at the track training kept me warm, brought me water and packed up my stuff for me. I started to get a bit dizzy and had to sit down. The paramedics were bald, fat, and looked like Legia fans (one of the Warsaw soccer teams - that fans of which you don't mess with), but they were very precise, quick, and pleasant. Only one of them spoke English, but they were all friendly and somehow earned my trust, even though they looked like guys you wouldn't make eye contact with in a dark alley.
Normal cross-fitness training
In the hospital waiting room, I could hear the staff having a debate. "I think it's his first name" "No, it's the last name" "How do you know? It's definitely first name". They were looking at my ID card and couldn't figure out if Sakura was my first or last name. Finally one of them just asked me in English "Sakura is surname?". Tak.
And that's when I saw her.
She came over and asked me what happened, in English. I explained the freak accident, started blabbering about nonsense, talking about what I thought it might be and how I was supposed to go to an Oktoberfest party that night, and that she had a pretty smile that made me feel comfortable in the scary hospital. Wait, what did I just say? I blame it on the shock and pain pulsing through my body. You know, after a traumatic experience, they say you can fall in love easily. I mean, it happened to Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock in Speed, right? Anyway, the nurse was super nice and I wanted to ask her to marry me, until I saw her wedding ring (which wasn't from me). Ok, so nevermind. I don't want to date someone who makes everyone at the hospital fall in love with her. That's the worst (those sour grapes are so sour!). She took me to the x-ray machine, and then another lady came in to help, who was not as nice (nor as easy on the eyes). The machine shifted (not on purpose) when I stood on it, as well as during the exam, and I almost lost my balance. I started feeling dizzy and had to hold on like I was on some roller coaster. The mean lady grabbed my arm and started poking me, telling me to stop moving. Ok, but don't touch me on that arm! You can tell which is the injured arm because of the the sling on it! I want the hot nurse back!
I was too shy to ask her to be in the picture
After that I waited to see the doctor. I started responding to texts from guys at the workout who were writing to ask how I was. Then some big machine the size of an office printer started rolling towards me. There was nobody around, but it was coming down the hallway right at me. I looked up just in time to see it ram into my leg. The hallway was empty besides the two of us. I seriously thought I was in the Twilight Zone. I looked around hoping to see someone who saw what just happened. Or at least someone who would admit to pushing a giant wheeled machine at me. Another nurse came by and saw it, said sorry, and wheeled it away. I thought I heard her talking to the machine. I think Johnny 5 just attacked me.
Waiting for the doctor, the pain got worse. I didn't have any ice or drugs, just the makeshift sling. I was thirsty and hungry, but couldn't move. Then I started thinking of the worst case scenarios. First of all, it meant no Oktoberfest party that night, which was especially sad because I planned to wear my lederhosen. Also, I wouldn't be able to run in Biegnij Warszawo with the Spartans, which was really fun the year before. And no clubbing? Oh no! And no typing at work? Oh wait, no typing at work! Woohoo! Except I had a big project due soon and there was no way I could miss work. I would definitely have to work, no matter what the doctor says, and no matter if I could move or not. Darn. Even with all these thoughts, I was never in a panic. It was what it was, and there was no use stressing over it. It could be broken, torn, cracked, ripped, bruised, or flambeed, but worrying wasn't going to change anything. Laurent and Przemek felt really bad and kept texting me to apologize and check on me, but it wasn't their fault at all. Anyway, it was nice to hear from everyone that was concerned. Igors even came by afterwards to check on me and drive me back home.
No lederhosen for me this year
And none of this either, fortunately for everyone in Warsaw
The doc called me in finally, and my non-future wife/nurse also came in with me. While the doctor left to do something, I tried to make small talk with her, asking what she does there, as in, what is her role at the hospital. She thought I meant "why are you in this exam room with me?". She made a move to walk away and said "I'm here to translate, but if you don't want me here, I can leave". I moved quickly to block the door, so she had to stay.
The doctor was unlike any doctor I've ever seen, but since I was in the Twilight Zone already, I couldn't expect anything different. He had long, unkempt hair, like someone who sits in front of their TV all day with his hand down his shorts, or in an electrical socket, and was wearing green camouflage pants. Was this MASH? Are we going to play paintball later? He wasn't exactly giving off a strong feeling of comfort or confidence. This was especially true when he looked at the x-ray, confirmed that nothing was broken, then grabbed my arm and started pulling it in every direction. I let out several yelps, and my eyes started to water. He didn't know what the extent of the muscle or ligament damage was, since we didn't do an MRI yet, but he still played with my arm as if I was a puppet. I begged him not to do that again.
After I attached my arm back on, Igors drove me to the pharmacy to pick up some pain meds. Since we were both hungry, we decided to swing by the Oktoberfest party anyway, to get some food. Luckily it wasn't too crowded, so I was able to sit far away from people without the fear of them bumping into me. Magically, I felt much better after the meds kicked in, but still couldn't move much. After a quick bite, and explaining the awkward exercise that got me hurt about 10 times, we went home. Once home, I realized I couldn't take my shirt off because I couldn't lift or straighten my arm (this was hard to do for at least 4 weeks). Brushing my teeth left handed was hard, as well as washing either armpit (one because I couldn't lift the arm up, and the other because my bad arm couldn't reach it). I guess you can guess other disgusting things that were hard to do without the use of my right hand.
The next few months were just about trying to get better. Here's a running journal of the weeks after the injury:
First day after injury:
I couldn't sleep at all last night. I couldn't get into a comfortable position, and even after I fell asleep, anytime I moved, I woke up from the pain. It hurt to lay on my back, so I had to build a support with the pillows so I wouldn't move too much.
3 days after injury:
I couldn't run in Biegnij Warszawo today, but I went down to cheer for people in WITC. I realized I'm not a good one-handed cheerer, because I couldn't clap, nor could I take good pictures. By the time I saw anyone from the club running and tried with one hand to get my camera in position, they already passed me...more of them noticed me first, standing there in a sling, fumbling with the camera, and they came up to me to say hi. What a great supporter I am.
4 days after:
I'm able to move it a little more every day...a couple inches here, a couple more the next day. It's a good sign of no major damage. But at the same time, if there is no big damage, I feel like a wimp for wearing this sling everywhere!
I was finally able to schedule an MRI after a bunch of calls with no luck. They wanted to do it after a few weeks, but what good is an MRI after a few weeks? I need to know now! Luckily we have a "VIP" connection at LuxMed who can hook up appointments that the regular appointments call center can't. The problem is that the clinic that did the MRI took over an hour to get to. And after getting the MRI, I had to call for another appointment to have a doctor look at the results (a week later). Is it normal to wait that long? Why isn't it coordinated by the clinic? I also had problems with them booking appointments for the wrong week, and with doctors that didn't speak English, just adding to all the fun.
7 days after:
I picked up the MRI results, but didn't know what they said. Still have to wait a few more days to see a doctor about it. I translated it on Google...does this make any sense?
"muscle strain raven-shoulder and head biceps short, post-traumatic edema is also seen within the pectoralis major muscle tear in his suggesting distal. The correct tone and course of the tendon of the long head of the biceps brachii, trailers preserved pleural in the sheath".
I can live with a 'strain', but I don't like the word 'tear'. Questions abound in my head: should my trailers be preserved pleural in the sheath? Are everyone else's? And who suggested the distal? And why am I a raven? I prefer Seahawks.
Anyway, it has stopped hurting while not moving, which is a good sign. But the bad part is that sometimes I forget it's injured and move it suddenly, or do something dumb like try to take laundry out of the washing machine with my right arm, and shriek in pain. I need a maid. Or a girlfriend.
12 days after:
Finally got to see a doctor to look at the MRI results. Turns out it was a small tear in my chest (right boob) and a strain in my bicep.
2 weeks after:
Still can't sleep the whole night without waking up from my own movements. Just getting into and out of bed is hard because I have to brace myself with my arms. Sometimes I just roll in and out, using one arm plus my face to brace myself. Working from home because I can't type while sitting up (my arm doesn't move far enough away from my body). I have to work while laying on my back on the sofa. I should still be on "sick leave", but a big project is due soon, and can't afford to take the time off. Still wearing the sling to go everywhere, to parties, to trips to the Polish forest, etc.
3 weeks after:
Started physical therapy, and it's the best thing ever. I was given 10 sessions of laser therapy (who knows if that works - they just put a laser over the injured area for 8 minutes, but you can't really tell if it's doing anything. This was basically a nice 8 minute nap). The exercises are the best. The sessions are 30 minutes, and it's a combination of stretching, simple (but difficult) exercises, and lots of massaging. Jacek was very friendly and explained everything in very fluent and detailed English. When he asked me to turn over onto my back, it took a few minutes because I still can't put any pressure on my right arm. I think I drooled on the massage table while rolling over using my face as support.
4 weeks after:
I can finally function somewhat normally without the sling, but sudden movements and pressing down on anything can still be very painful. At least once per day I do something that paralyzes me...last night, when laying in bed, I lifted my arms over my head to move the pillow and the pain was so sharp, I couldn't move for a couple minutes. Remember not to do that again.
This week I finished my original 3 prescribed PT sessions, so had to go back to the doctor to get more prescribed.
6 weeks after:
Diana (one of the therapists), told me she can give me an extra 4 PT sessions without me going back to the doctor. YES.
7 weeks after:
I can do 2 push-ups!!!!!!!!! Jacek, Diana and another guy who didn't tell me his name, have been really great about explaining things in English, and finding the pressure points during the massages and stretches. The problem with not moving my arm for so long is that the muscles in my chest, arm, shoulder, and back tightened up from not working, and a lot of the therapy is to loosen those muscles. I wince and moan in pain when they find the sweet spots, but when they asked if it's too strong, I say no, while wiping tears away. KEEP DOING IT, IT FEELS SOOOO GOOD!!! I am especially sure never to tell Diana she is being too rough. Even when she finds the spot that radiates feeling throughout my entire arm, neck, and even face. I mean, she's a girl (but she does have very strong hands!).
8 weeks after:
Tried to play basketball. Bad idea. There's a reason they call it a chest pass. It uses your chest muscle, which I don't have yet.
9 weeks after:
Finished 10 PT sessions, so I went back to the doctor again to get another "prescription" for an additional 3. During PT, sometimes I feel like a dog when you are petting it and find the spot that makes it's leg shake uncontrollably, like it's riding an invisible bike. There is one spot on my back shoulder that when they press it even a small amount, I freeze and I can't do anything but make a small whimpering sound and shake my leg (in both pleasure and pain). It hurts so good.
The great news is that I'm up to 10 push-ups, and can do some/most of the WITC cross-training, with only a few simplifications. But I tried swimming for even 5 strokes, and it's too painful. Something about the swimming motion is much worse than a push-up.
3 months after:
I can do about 20 push-ups before the chest muscle gets tight, as if someone is squeezing it. It still feels tight when doing many different exercises, and my strength is pretty low, but I'm getting there. I finished 13 PT sessions and now the rest is up to me to stretch and build the muscles back up. If anyone wants to massage my boob (or back and shoulder), I will gladly accept (seriously).
I can lift coconuts, no problem!
For such a simple, stupid injury, this rehab has lasted a long time. Let's just remember not to do that exercise ever again.
