Ice Cube told me so.

I received a call last week, that came a lot sooner than I thought it would. Or rather, it reminded me that 2018 is shooting past and we’re almost in August already. The call that I received was in relation to an orthopaedic appointment I had in November last year. After an MRI in June 2017. Over a year ago, yet I remember it all so well, and can’t believe how much things have changed in these last 13 months. So much so, that the call was now pretty much null and void, due to my own hard work.

Last year I was told that I needed spinal fusion surgery due to my lumbar spine being all to cock. I switched GPs earlier in 2017 and my the new assignee is an absolute star. He pushed for me to get many (unfortunately) internal exams, ultra sounds, x-rays resulting in the diagnoses of endometriosis, but not fixing the pain that was causing me to be bed bound. Being unable to dress myself on days, and really unable to do up my own shoelaces. Along with the days of struggling to get myself to the bathroom. Lack of mobility to get myself on a small walk, let alone to the gym. The worst however, being a sufferer of hay fever and a dust allergy, sneezing was plentiful, and every time I sneezed, I felt like I was going to end up in a wheelchair and just wanted to shoot myself in the face every time. It was so hard. SO hard.

When my GP therefore managed to get me in for an MRI, followed by a full orthopaedic exam, resulting in my diagnosis being confirmed, I was thrown on the year-long waiting list to get myself on the gurney for the incredibly invasive spinal fusion surgery.

However, not even a year on, and with the general health peeps being superstars and offering me the surgery in August (3 months ahead of promised time) I’ve done a complete 180, and all off my own back. Pardon the pun.

When my place on the wait list was confirmed, I was already below rock bottom. Seriously, I was struggling to say the least. The pain, the discomfort, the lack of mobility, the genuine lack of enjoyment for anything at all, mainly life, was too much. I had no brightness in my life, that I could see, and was just over everything. Everything. I don’t remember the moment it all changed, but I know that I just had to change things. In what order I don’t know either. However, I started walking. Some days I could manage 5 mins, some days 20 minutes was possible. Before I knew it, a daily walk along the bays was becoming easier and easier. Cycling to work and back was a new thing. Sleep was improving. I stopped taking all the drugs I was prescribed for the pain, as with them doing utterly jack, I just didn’t feel the need for the unnecessary chemicals in my body. My moods were brightening, I was keen for more of this thing called living. I could sneeze by way of popping myself in a brace position, and surviving it. Things were turning around, and I was generally enjoying life again. Pain free. Sure, there were days, and there still are, when I was so uncomfortable, but the last time that the pain had me bed bound, nah, can’t remember it. WINNING!

Now I’m exercising every day. I love my HIIT, sprint and resistance workouts at the gym, I cycle to and from work still, I’ll go on a walk with ease, I’ll go to the gym to do a 30 minute stretch routine – I used to see this as wasteful time, but hello, it’s seriously life changing. It’s easy to say, I’m more active and I’m loving it! Since February I’ve lost 16kgs, another 10kgs to go – which is starting to get a bit more difficult, but I’m not beating myself up about it in all honesty.

Needless to say, I have contacted the health department and told them in not so many words that I am a superstar and another poor lamb can get themselves sliced and diced sooner than they had hoped. I’m happy to leave my stomach uncut, organs remain where they are, and litres of blood to stay within my system. Win win.

I was in such a dark place with all this, and I just wanna say, just by finding some drive, just a pinch of it, I managed to start the best journey ever of pulling myself out. Just that pinch of drive drove me to a full on open ride of drive possibilities. It’s doable, just take the focus, take the support, and don’t give up. xxx


One thought on “Ice Cube told me so.

  1. Sam that’s awesome. Reading this has brought a tear to my eye to think that you’ve been going through all that. But on the other hand I’m so proud of you for finding a way through it all to see the light and get yourself out of that place. Onwards and upwards eh. Life is there for living which is exactly what you’re doing. I think you’re awesome. Love Anna

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