Quick Recap
For the full backstory regarding my injury and what led to my eventual surgery, check out my previous post, Back Attack: Living Pain Free. For the purpose of understanding this blog, all you need to know is that I had a spinal disk replacement surgery 5 months ago.
Immediately After Surgery
For four days following surgery, most of my time was spent sleeping, measuring my vitals. and taking my meds. The pain in my back was notable, but the pain in the incision across my abdomen was unbearable. I couldn’t get out of bed or use the bathroom on my own. Every time I coughed, sneezed, or shifted around, it felt like I was going to burst at the seams…literally. Despite my extreme discomfort, I was only allowed one day of complete rest before I had to start moving my body.
Unmotivated to do anything besides lie in bed, I followed my Doctor’s orders and began setting goals. Just 24 hours after surgery, it was my goal to walk across the room – a ten-foot journey. I made it. A few hours later when I tried again, I only got halfway before needing assistance back to my bed. I was disappointed but I didn’t stop trying. I would walk three times a day over the next three days increasing my distance each time. By the end of the fourth day, I made it down the hallway and back. Granted, I was moving at a snail’s pace with a walker as a support and a nurse by my side, but I was proud of myself.
As someone who has always set lofty fitness goals, the goal of walking 100 yards two weeks post-op was a bit frustrating. To maintain my sanity, I continually reminded myself that I’d been here before. I had hip surgery in 2017, after which I had to relearn proper walking form. I recovered from that and knew I could recover from this. I told myself it was only temporary, but, more importantly, it wouldn’t be temporary if I pushed too hard. So, for about six weeks I spent my days resting, my evenings walking, and my nights sleeping.
Physical Therapy
After my sutures healed, it was time to start physical therapy (PT.) I attended PT twice a week for eight weeks, during which my progress was rapid. Not rushed, but rapid. I was still only doing light elliptical work by week five and 20lb farmer carries by week six. Nothing was rushed, I can assure you of that. My physical therapist constantly challenged me but never in a way that caused pain or went against my surgeon’s wishes. He believed my quick recovery was largely in part due to my pre-surgery fitness level.
My PT sessions were mainly centered around core stability and muscular endurance. I increased the amount of repetitions for each exercise before I was even allowed to think about increasing the weights. I was forced to put my pride aside and truly focus on the basics.
After eight weeks of 100% commitment to recovery, I found myself at my last session. My physical therapist and I discussed which exercises I should continue, those I should not do, and what my future will look like. He reminded me that, in addition to my new implant, I also had (and still have) a lumbar disk bulge at another level. It would be reckless to solely focus on recovery and neglect injury prevention.
In terms of when I could start running, jumping, or even mowing the lawn, there were no definitive answers. While he did say absolutely no running or jumping for at least two more months, other activities weren’t so black and white. My best bet would be to listen to my body. He told me if anything caused even the slightest bit of discomfort I needed to stop. We both felt confident in my ability to reasonably increase my goals and expectations. As I walked toward the door, he said “It was a pleasure working with you, but I don’t want to see you again.” I chuckled and responded, “It was a pleasure, but I don’t want to come back.” And I meant it. My biggest fear is ending up back there. Back at square one.
Moving Forward
After completing my PT sessions and ‘passing’ my post-op X-Rays, I’m no longer working with doctors – I’m on my own in terms of exercise. Functional fitness, endurance, stability, and mobility are not only recommended but required for my body’s health and recovery. Rather than listen to my ego, I must listen to my body. If my form deviates in the slightest, I need to pull back. If I can’t perform an exercise for 20-25 reps, I won’t increase the weight I’m using. I’m healing one injury while preventing another; I can’t afford any mistakes.
As a lifelong athlete, I’d always imagined playing in an adult soccer league or hurdling down the 100m straight away again. Needless to say, compromised backs don’t take too kindly to contact sports like soccer or plyometric sports like track. As for weightlifting, the thought of deadlifts sends a tangible ‘zing’ through my back. Whether or not I’ll be able to do any of these things again, I don’t know. What I do know is that my health is a priority. It has to always be a priority.
What I've Learned
Since a young age, it’s seemed like more often than not I’ve been recovering from something. I’ve had more bumps, bruises, strains, sprains, and breaks than I care to remember. Though discouraging, all of these setbacks have had one thing in common. I’ve always come back on top. In the midst of these inconveniences, I have learned to never take my body or health for granted. Even on days I lack motivation or tank a workout, I am still thankful.
I firmly believe life’s tragedies go to waste if you don’t learn from them. Over the last several months, I have delved deep into the world of back health and injury prevention. I am turning my own experience into a teaching point for others. I am committed to making sure my friends, family, and clients never have to go down this road. I’m really hoping I ‘took one for the team’ in that aspect.
Regardless of what I’ve learned and what the future holds, some things just aren’t ‘fair.’ Plain and simple. You can practice the ‘perfect’ program and get your nutrition down to a science, but you can’t predict a curveball. I am thankful for all the curveballs life has thrown at me because, at the risk of sounding cliché, they truly have made me stronger. I might still have a ways to go in terms of healing, but I’ve found my ambition. I will come back on top, better than before. I will come back better than ever.