Train much?

Training is so fucking awesome. For those that find me a bit long winded, honestly, just stop here. That’s really all I have to say.

Last week I watched an HBO Real Sports segment about Ashrita Furman, the man who holds the world record for, yep, the most world records. At the time the show was recorded he had almost 100 world records under his belt! Unbelievable. I knew there had to be a catch, and there was,... sort of.

Ashrita records include things like “longest walk with a quart of milk balanced on the head”, “longest distance traveled somersaulting”, “most apples sliced in half by a samurai sword in one minute”, “fastest mile while carrying another person”, and lets not forget “longest continuos juggle while pogo-sticking”. The rad part is, he does all these ridiculous things REALLY well. For example, that walk with a quart of milk on his head was 80 miles. The somersaulting went on for 12. This guy is totally nuts right? Yeah, of course he is, but he’s also totally stoked.

Turns out Ashrita is really into transcendental meditation. In high school he met a fairly prominent teacher who introduced him to the practice and he quickly took to it and devoted himself in more ways than one. From his site.

My teacher's philosophy of self-transcendence, of overcoming your limits and making daily progress spiritually, creatively and physically using the power of meditation, really thrilled me. However, I was a bit unsure about the physical part in my case due to my lifelong commitment to nerdiness!

That all changed literally overnight several years later in 1978, when my teacher encouraged me to participate in a 24-hour bicycle race sponsored by Pepsi Cola in New York City. Sri Chinmoy knew what he was doing. I had an epiphany that night on my bicycle while riding around the course in Central Park. I realized firsthand that if you can connect with your inner source and be receptive to a higher Grace, you can accomplish anything.

Ashrita spends his days running a vitamin shop in New York and all of his free time training for ridiculous records and he loves it and honestly, I love this guy. He’s commited to challenging himself in whatever ways he can, and is so fucking unabashedly “himself” during all of it. He likes hula hooping. So he hula hoops. Or maybe he’s feeling the somersault thing, so he gets into that for a while.

I’m convinced. Challenge is one of the keys to happiness. Talk to anyone who’s attempted a birthday challenge and I think they’ll agree. Of course these things doesn’t have to be physical. Take the example of the business tycoon who keeps coming out of retirement. He can have/do whatever he wants, but nothing gets him off like work used to. This guy gets so bored and depressed without the constant struggle to make a shitload of money, that he goes back to work! My 15 year old dog is his happiest just before dinner every night. He stands up, smiles, barks, jumps, trots and sticks his ass in the air and stutter steps like he’s ready to play. He’s psyched! This old beat up dog is so driven by that goal that he’ll do anything to get fed, and during the process he’s very, very much alive.

Which leads me back to training. Elijah and I are both laid up for a while. Well, actually he’s an asshole and gets to start walking soon, but whatever the case its been almost 4 months for me and 2 months for him since we last “went for a jog”. Of course we both have responsibilities. He’s got a job and I’ve got... uh... stuff that I do, but I know for a fact that both of us are the most psyched when we’re at The Shed (top secrect training facility powered by soul - the Marvin Gay and Barry White type, but there’s been allot of Cameo playing lately... and Wutang when Elija’s in charge) training.

We’ve lucked out you see. If climbing hard is one’s thing (and that’s our thing), loosing the ability to walk for a period of time is sort of useful. Fingerboard workouts and campusing are the preferred methods for developing power and neither of these tools require or encourage the use of feet. We’d be more hard pressed with broken fingers.

Phil cranks out one of my current projects almost 2 decades ago at the old video shop

So during this time of restricted mobility I’ve spent more time hanging from the Yaniro powerboard than I once thought was humanly possible. Last week I logged nearly 6 hours on this most beautiful of finger boards. Elijah is currently completing almost 500 campus moves a week! Towards the end of a 200 move day he looks over at me and says,

“Dude, if I’m not cranking by the time I can walk again, I might quit climbing.”

I know the feeling. Yes, all this insanity IS in the name of climbing which we all agree is a worthwhile activity. I’ll be pretty surprised if we don’t come out of this climbing hard, because from what I can see we’re both as strong, or stronger, than ever. The odd part is, aside from those last few moves of a murderous workout, we’re totally stoked on our short term training goals that revolve around the “toys” we play with at The Shed. These are things that many people would lump into the Ashrita Furman category, and I totally agree. Attempting to hang my body weight from some small man made hold is a pretty weird goal to have. However, I can only speak for myself, but I have a feeling Elija (and Phil) would agree, when I say that my campus board project is just as good as any “real” climbing project.

Like I said - training is fucking awesome.

Next Question

3 months, 92 days, 1/4 year, almost 1% of my time spent on the planet thus far.... What ever way you slice it, I think its safe to say that its been more than short while since I walked on my own two feet. That fateful day when I managed to slip at the wrong time and land in the wrong place drastically changed the direction, or lack there of (your choice), my life was heading. I’ve already responded to one of the most popular questions posed to me by friends and strangers, but there’s another more annoying, sometimes almost arrogant, question that I suddenly feel compelled to respond to.

“So, what have you learned from all this?”

I may have a bit of a “granola” bend to my personality, but shit like this is what makes me wish I could completely disassociate myself from any past that involved yoga, vegetarianism, pot smoking, or hot tubs. I don’t believe that everything happens for a reason, that the all-mighty “.....” (fill in the blank with your favorite name) presents us with challenges to make us stronger, or that this was inevitable due to some arrangement of stars on the night I was born. That’s all a bunch of nonsense. However, I do believe that we can create a reason for anything that happens as a way to help ourselves get stronger, or that there are natural forces (like gravity) and the dark tangled mess of our deeper psyche that can both catch up to us at the same time and the same place, and that there may be more affecting our development than simply our genetics and our experiences. See the difference? You can’t just throw out modern science because you had a really cool acid trip or a chakra light up in yoga class. I’ve had that acid trip, and trust me, I’ve seen it all in yoga class! It’s rad, but we can’t just perma-bliss and forget about the basics, or we’ll all end up like “that guy” at the farmer’s market.

But I digress. What kills me about this question is that half the time I’m asked, the inquirer asks it from some place of spiritual elitism, which is, by the way, my favorite part of the trendy yoga studio crowd (Note: I’m perfectly willing to admit that I’m quite possibly projecting my own spiritual elitism onto them, and that my own less than perfect experience with the “healing arts” has marred me somewhere deep in my unconscious thus making this entire rant an immature and ego inflating sack of shit). What they really mean is “You silly little man with petty pursuits unlike my lofty ones drenched in upper tier morality you couldn’t possibly understand: What have you got to say for yourself now?” Well, to all those people I’d like to respond with a simple: How about you go fuck yourself with a healing crystal.

For those that truly are interested in the past 3 months of my life, the ones that ask this of me because of our shared past, mutual interest in the unknown or simply because they didn’t know what else to say, I do have an answer that doesn’t involve any orifice of your body or a healing crystal. By the way, sorry you had to read all that other stuff above. I really do appreciate your concern and respect your intellect. I’m just sort of lose cannon these days and it isn’t fair for me to let a few idiots tarnish our relationship. I hope you understand.

A quick list of what I’ve learned in no particular order:

• Boredom is a very dangerous thing. Stay busy

• I can always love more than I do

• There’s this really cool coffee shop in Mammoth sort of close to the hospital. I can’t remember the name, but....
• Caffeine is necessary
• Pot doesn’t increase creativity, it dulls the shit out of it.
• The body is way more fragile that I once thought. We break, and sometimes it doesn’t get better on its own - especially cartilage. Avoid tearing cartilage. I’m still undecided about bones. I’ll have to get back to you about that
• While 11 pads stacked at the base of a 12 ft problem is excessive, one miniature pad beneath a 20 footer isn’t enough.
• Ski towns always have good orthopods in stock.
• I like walking... allot.
• Tragedy’s don’t cure “asshole-ism”
• My dog is more intuitive than most people
• I do have a sweet tooth after all.
• Reading is, and will always be, a worthwhile activity.
• A change of scenery is often the perfect solution
• While generally not a fan of opiates, when pain is off the charts, I highly recommend Diladid (sp?). This shit works.
• I need a job.
• I really need a job.
• Very cliché, but I truly know even less than I thought I did.

Service with a Smile

Its getting a little trendy to blog about the healthcare system, but I’m gonna go ahead and add my two sense on the subject. Actually, my current gripe has nothing to do with insurance companies or socialized healthcare. I’ve got a bone to pick with the medical field, mainly doctors to be honest.

I get the impression that some of these guys (and gals) have no interest in people whatsoever. This seems a little ridiculous don’t you think? I mean, this is a profession where one’s basic job function is to help out their fellow human being. I know there’s glamour and a high pay check that comes along with the cool, oddly stylish, white coat, but it blows my mind that so many seemingly antisocial heartless bastards devote their lives to a job like this. Maybe its a similar to the phenomena in politics. Only the most egotistical of people have any interest in controlling the rights/destiny of the masses (yes, I’ll agree that there are many politicians that honestly are the altruistic seekers of “the right” that they present themselves as).

Take for example my experience yesterday morning with an orthopedic surgeon in the Santa Barbara area, whose name I won’t slander, but will say rhymes with “I’m-the-man”. After waiting for almost an hour - which I’ve come to accept as part of the routine with doctors, because I do honestly understand how busy they are - the Doc arrives with fresh x-rays in hand.

“All right. Get that boot off!” He barks with his back turned to me.

“Lets here some good news!” I say with a smile, trying to keep things light and friendly.

“Hmm... Yeah.... Not very good.”

“No change huh?”

“Yeah. I don’t like this.” He approaches and almost jumps out of his coat upon noticing the irritation from a mild fungal infection (much like athlete’s foot) thats developed around the wound which he created during a debreidment surgery almost 2 months ago. “You gotta clean this up. You know like...uh... take a shower.”

“I’d love to, but the wound center hasn’t given me the green light yet, so I’ve done the best I can scrubbing around the bandages with a wash cloth and applying anti fungal ointment when the dressing is changed. They aren’t very worried about it out at the center. Seems it should go away pretty quickly as soon as the wound heals and I can expose the site to air and water on a daily basis.”

“Yeah man you gotta get in the shower. Maybe try using some soap and get rid of this dirty compression sock..... When was this dressing last changed?”

“24 hours ago.”

“On a Sunday? That’s not possible The wound center’s not open a Sunday.” he counters, almost trying to catch me in a lie.

“Uh yeah I know. The home nurse that I’ve been using for more than 2 months did it like he has been every other day. Remember when you talked to him last month?”

He walks away and continues to lecture me about the basics of personal hygiene while he washes his hands and puts on a pair of gloves. He then sits down and leans his head into one hand in that distressed thinker sort of position and begins to shake his head. From this position he proceeds to explain his plan of action, which seems in line with what Dr. Karch has recommended, so I don’t ask too many questions, not that he seems interested in answering any of them unless they revolve around whether or not I should be smoking or if soap and water is an effective skin cleaning agent (side note: In my first meeting with the good doctor he spent 10 of our 15 minutes together badgering me about the small marijuana habit I admitted to previous to the injury. I also told him that since the accident I’ve abstained because I understand that smoking is not conducive to the healing process. However, he still felt it necessary to point out that he was pretty sure that I developed an infection because of the depressed state my immune system was obviously in due to my one hit a day habit.).

After a quick explanation of where my treatment is going and barking a few orders at his assistant, whom I feel very sorry for because he seems like a nice guy, the Doc comes over and starts moving my foot around.

“Ankle mobility’s good. Pull back on your foot.” So I proceed to pull back as best I can and move the foot a total of a half centimeter.

“That’s it?” He says with an obvious look of surprise on his face.

“Well, I haven’t been using it. Remember 6 weeks ago when I asked you about that and you said it was too fragile to work with? Uh... I did what you said and left it alone.”

“No, no, no. You gotta be moving that thing.” He sighs like a disappointed father.

“Ok..?”

“Yep, so uh, move that thing around and get it cleaned up and we’ll see you in four weeks.” And with that he’s gone. So I reapply the dressing that he’s removed and then hop to the opposite side of the room to retrieve my cast. Does this scenario seem a little fucked to anyone else?

The subtleties of this exchange may not come across very well for a number of reasons. First of all, I’m not the most talented writer in the world. Secondly, and I think this is the important part, “bed side manner” is in fact a subtle thing. This doctor gave me the exact same report that another, oddly compassionate doctor gave just weeks earlier, yet I came away from this appointment with a very different taste in my mouth. For all I know, Dr. “I’m-the-man” is a great father, lover and all the rest, but dude ain’t bringing that loving feeling with him to work, and I for one find this more than a little irritating. Maybe he’s had a bad day. Its totally possible that he just got out of a stressful surgery or his wife just left him. The thing is all of his patients including me have had more than a few bad days recently, and many of us (I’d like to include myself in this group) show up and are courteous human beings. We stick to the basics like looking people in the eye and respecting their individual experience. Maybe we even ask about their day or try to lighten the mood with a joke or two. Its not that difficult, yet many doctors seem to forget about these most basic human needs when they don the white coat.

As is often the case I’m quick to point out the negative, glossing over all the positive interactions I’ve had with M.D.’s. Anyone who’s been reading this blog knows well how much respect I have for Dr. Michael Karch up in Mammoth lakes. This is a guy who’s delivered straight up some of the worst news of my life, yet I walked out of the appointment oddly comforted by his words. How many doctors bring a hopeful tear to your eye while they describe how they may need to hack off your left foot? Then there’s Dr. Stephen Hosea, the infectious disease expert in Santa Barbara. He was very clear during our appointments that there wasn’t much to talk about and that he needed to see me more out of procedure than anything else, but since I’d taken the time to stop by, he spent a good half hour encouraging me and offering advice with regards to my current condition.

And today, out of nowhere, a doctor went out of his way to help me out, well, just because. In hopes that I’ll be able to make a little money while debilitated, I’m going back to substitute teaching. One of the many hoops the county requires me to jump through is a routine TB test. So I head off to the Med Center and get poked by a nurse. On my way out I ask if I should worry about the test site rubbing against my crutches. Unsure, the nurse queries the head doctor. He’s, of course, busy, but takes one look at me and says,

“Well, it shouldn’t be a problem, but you know, those crutches aren’t set up right.”

So he leads me into an exam room. While he sizes me up and and resets the simple mechanism that I’ve managed to somehow screw up, he has the courtesy to to ask about my injury and crack a few jokes. Shit, he even looked me in the eye. On his way out I asked his name to which he replies

“Bill Meller. Good luck to you. Have a nice day.”

“Thanks Bill!” And with that I left, sort of looking forward to returning a few days later.

The best part about all this is I’m paying extra to see Dr. “I’m-the-man”. He’s decided that insurance companies don’t pay him enough, so he isn’t a provider. I don’t know nearly enough about the intricacies of the insurance company/doctor relationship to fairly say this, but really, I’m not surprised. My interactions so far have shown me that he could give a shit about my situation. What does “I’m-the-man” care if I have to go into bankruptcy to see him in the future? He gets paid either way right? Taking a slight pay cut to make my and many other patients (aren’t like 50% of people one accident away from bankruptcy?) financial situation a bit simpler is a ridiculous concept. He’s a doctor. He’s the man.

No News is Good News

Last Thursday me and the parental units drove up to Mammoth Lakes for a Friday morning appointment with Dr. Karch. I won’t lie. Although gorgeous even from the back seat of a moving vehicle, driving through the Eastside during the height of fall felt like a mild form of torture. Sitting around the house in Santa Barbara, its fairly easy to forget about climbing on rock. Fingerboards are almost as interesting as the mediocre stone that we’ve been blessed with on the central coast. However the mild temps, clear skies, and acres and acres of world class boulders that dominate the landscape of Bishop create another story altogether. Damn greasy foothold.... AH!! I could be climbing right now!

I’m allowed a moment or two of weakness I think. I enjoyed the agony for a short while, but there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Dr. Karch had positive things to say during our appointment. The new x-rays showed absolutely no change in the bones of my leg. Now, this wasn’t the best possible news. Ideally there’d be some knitting apparent at this point in the recovery. However, in this case, no news WAS good news. Turns out Karch was encouraged by the fact that the screws hadn’t moved or simply fallen out of place. Like nails coming loose from rotting wood, this would indicate bone death, something that’s undeniably bad. His feeling, and one that my logical mind has to agree with, is that if the bones aren’t dying they’re probably growing. It’s one or the other right? This lack of death combined with apparent lack of infection led my new favorite doctor to one of the better conclusions I’ve heard in a while.

“I can confidently say that I don’t expect to be cutting your foot off anymore.” Of course nothing’s for sure, but when a doctor, someone who gets paid to be conservative ad absurdum says that they don’t expect outcome ‘x’ that’s a pretty strong statement bordering very close on certainty. So as tears flowed down Mom’s face Dr. Karch explained the road ahead.

The Docs are going to want to see some bone growth soon. If in 3 weeks there’s still no apparent change, then they’ll prescribe a bone stimulator (basically a device that sends a mild electrical current through the area). This would hopefully solve the problem. If after a month of “stimulation” the bones continue to be stubborn, a bone graft from my hip is the next option. We’ll talk more about that if we go down that road.

For now I’ll continue to wait and focus on using as much of my body as I can in hopes that it will jump start the healing process. On that note, I should mention that I cannot do any physical therapy with my left leg. The bones are far too fragile for any amount of weight bearing at any angle. Instead, Dr. Karch suggested that I continue to strengthen my right leg. His reasoning is two fold. First of all, there’s no reason to let it’s fitness go to shit. After all its much easier to maintain than to rehabilitate. Secondly - this is the rad part - working one limb of the body seems to increase nerve activity in the opposite limb. Dr. Karch’s suggestion: Try riding a bike with one leg. Now he was clear that this wasn’t his professional prescription (that’s not very conservative now is it?), but rather something he might have personally tried while recovering from a skiing accident where he ripped his quadricep completely off the knee. “Its way harder than you think!” he says. He also encouraged me to keep working my upper body as much as possible (within reason of course - very important to be conservative). Ok Doc. Upper body training it is. No problem. Over and out.