The Clavicle Journey

I wrote the So Long, Bloggy post last month thinking this was all over.

And it was, except for one thing I must have forgotten at the time. I still had a Rockwood pin inside my clavicle that had to come out!

I just reread the post and yep, not a single mention of it. Life was feeling so good and normal that I must have forgotten that I had the surgery scheduled.

So this is going to be it — this will be the So Long, Bloggy post.

I got the pin out on 10/12/07 and it feels just great. See the pictures right here.

The surgery was a piece of cake. I got to the hospital around 8:15 AM and did all the pre-op stuff. Met the anesthesiologist who was going to put me out. Wheeled into the room and felt the second she added the good stuff into the mix because for about a minute, life is just pure magic. Man, if they could bottle that feeling and make it available at will, I can’t imagine we’d ever have another day of war.

Then she showed me the stuff she was going to add in that was going to put me to sleep. I felt it going in and I thanked everyone and wished them good luck.

I started to panic a bit because I was still conscious and I was hoping they wouldn’t start the surgery while I was still awake. I told them my concerns, and then they kindly told me it was all over.

Good drugs!

So, as you can see by the pictures, it is out. I feel really good. The entry spot is a bit sore and I expect it will be for a couple of days. It’s been 2 days since the surgery and my wife removed the bandages today. I have about 5 stitches holding the incision closed.

So now it’s over.

What started as a great bike ride on 2/18/07 ended officially on 10/12/07 with the removal of the Rockwood Pin.

As a side note, I am so damn happy that my surgeon was able to use the pin. I have seen more x-rays of the plate/screw thing and it is just so cumbersome. I don’t know if it is always possible to use the pin, but I am a huge fan.

Over and out (again),

Barry

Was swimming today and realized that I just let this blog dry up and die. How sad, as so many people were with me through the journey, and I never had a closing party.

After a slew of physical therapy, hand therapy, swimming, and home stretching – I am a free man. Have been for a while now.

Had a pretty bad case of frozen shoulder (which is now just a bit naggy). I still have a ring finger and middle finger that are numb on the tips, and I don’t know if that’s going away. I’d like full feeling back, but seeing where I started, this is not a bad place to end up – if it is indeed the end.

The biggest question people have asked me – what about mountain biking? I haven’t been on a trail since that day back in February and I don’t know when I’ll get up the nerve to do it again. I do miss it terribly, but I have a few reminders that will keep me skiddish- pun intended.

I’m lifting my son again when ever I feel like it and that is probably the greatest part of healing. Juggling is easy once again. I can sleep on my right side and reach my left armpit with a bar of soap.

It’s good to be back. Many thanks to everyone who sent love, support, and kind words. It was one hell of a ride.

Over and out.

Barry

Long time no blog… one month.

Time goes fast when you’re feeling better.

I really appreciate all the calls and emails from readers who have been wondering how I’m doing. It continues to be an unforgettable ride.

Update notes:
4/15: turned 45 and figured it was time to start driving again
4/23: follow up x-rays showing more bone growth
4:24: went to do my first post-accident show in Palm Springs
4/27: Weekend in Chicago for meetings – no juggling
5/5: Show in VA
5/7: follow up x-rays not showing much new growth since last time
Tomorrow: Show in AZ.

It’s a damn roller coaster and, as I’m sure I have stated before in these pages, I am ready to get off.

Arm mobility is at 70%. Fingers are flexible enough to close but a fist is still out of the question. Middle and ring finger still numb at the tips.

I am getting in 3 days of swimming a week. Still doing only 1,500 – 2,000 yards but putting a bit more into the strokes and getting an aerobic workout along with the range of motion time. Still no biking but a very short jog on Sunday, and that was pain-free and enjoyable.

I have been in hand therapy for 4 weeks and it seems to either help, or make things worse. I have added acupuncture to my plate and, what can I say, I am up to 8 therapists and modalities and nothing seems to be making a gross difference. If I keep my gauge set to a fine enough scale, I can indeed record improvement. Just nothing earth shaking — no mornings where I wake up and feel like something major happened overnight.

I still have this pin in my collarbone and that has to come out soon. The surgeon said at the beginning that it can be in for 12 weeks. I’m only 10 days from that deadline and still not enough bone growth to believe that the bone would hold up without the internal support. If he decides that we should go ahead and do the bone marrow graft, I will seriously hit bottom. Guaranteed. It won’t be pretty around here.

I have a busy summer with shows in Ireland and all over the states. Camping trips with the family – even more important than the shows!

In my mind I keep adding to the time I have to be patient and wait, while at the same time just feeling like I need it to be done. Getting back to work was like this quasi-wake up call that things are OK again.

Quasi sucks. It’s a partial hall pass to go out and play, but with the knowledge that I will be back for more tests, lectures, and detention.

It continues to be scary as hell, at times depressing, at other times thankful and joyous. And although I am able to be a bit more of a functioning member of the family and household, Annie is still driving the ship with spirit, compassion, and optimism 11 weeks later.

Thanks for checking in on me. This is the first entry I have typed! There’s a good sign of improvement, right?! I type as fast as ever now. Haven’t used the voice recognition software in a few weeks.

Let me end on that very positive note before I turn south again.

Barry

Spin the wheel of healing — where does it land?

Hint: it’s not where you think!

Annie and I went to Dr. Soto’s office at noon for the preop appointment. He came into the room and stood by the door while he told us about the operation. That took about five minutes (with a couple questions from us) and then he sent me over to get a final x-ray.

I’ve lost count of how many x-rays I’ve had since February 18, but I imagine it is well over 50. I no longer need a night light in my room as my glow provides sufficient guidance to get me safely from my bed to the bathroom and back. Too bad I wasted the money on the vasectomy two years ago as I’m sure all this radiation would have had the same effect.

We shot these two and then I went back to the room where Annie was waiting. Dr. Soto showed up a couple minutes later and pulled the x-rays up onto the screen. He brought up the straight-on shot, which always looks perfect, and then brought up the one that is shot from a 25° angle. This is the one that always shows the area where no bone has grown across the gap.

“Hold on one second,” Soto said, clenching his mouse.

He clicked on the ZOOM icon and dialed in on the troubled spot.

“You are throwing down some bone, my friend.”

It was almost in slow motion — the computer screen, the words out of his mouth, the poking in my side from Annie’s elbow. I looked at the screen and saw what I had been hoping to see for the last six weeks. It wasn’t a lot, nor was it very dense. But I’ll be damned, where there had only been black space, there was white bone.

Six days earlier I had made the decision, based upon Soto’s logic, that if nothing had grown in six weeks, it was time to help it along. I mean, the other side of the break had healed so well that it was undetectable in the x-ray!

What’s going on here? Was it a miracle? Grand intervention of the holiest kind? Every time Craig worked on me I was able to close my hand, and I didn’t understand that — how could it work? But that much bone, out of the blue, after six weeks of zero growth? One thing’s for sure, trying to break it down is way beyond the scope of this blog, or my brain.

I called Craig from the doctor’s parking lot and told him. He let out whoot that probably damaged my cell phone headset. He was at work so I didn’t get to go into too much detail with him, but I wanted to let him know what happened.

So what does this mean?

One thing for sure is that this Thursday I will not be having surgery! Dr. Soto rescheduled it for two weeks plus a few days and we will take a look again on Monday the 23rd. If bone is continuing to grow I will be free and clear and only need to look forward to having the pin removed. If growth has stopped, or isn’t proceeding fast enough, we will have to talk about the surgery again.

The tossing and turning that started with flyng off my mountain bike hasn’t really stopped. Main difference is that now it takes place without me wearing a helmet.

Annie and I went to have lunch at Tortilla Grill and talked about how happy we were. Shocked, blown away, puzzled… oh, and realized it was our 19th wedding anniversary

At 5:30 this evening I went to see a local guy who everyone loves. He does NeuroMuscular Therapy (see what that is, click here) and he abused me for about an hour. Deep, strong, fast — moving blood and fluid from my hand, up my arm, on to wherever it belongs. After about 30 minutes he had me bend my fingers. When I get to as far as I could move them, he gets about 6 inches from my face and told me to keep squeezing.

“This is where it really hurts,” I told him.

“It won’t hurt anymore… you are just afraid it will.”

Really?

I kept squeezing — trying to bring it into a full fist — but they were too swollen. He was right, however, it didn’t hurt.

That was truly amazing. One of the most predictable downsides during this entire journey has been the sharp shooting pain between the distal and proximal joints of my middle and ring finger. So somewhere during the last 30 minutes (possibly most painful of my life), he had done something to make that go away.

The true test — the one that no one has passed yet — would be this: could I close my hand in the morning?

Goodnight…

Easter Sunday? Last thing I remember it was February 18 and I went off for a bike ride… time flies with a broken clavicle.

Annie and I were trying to think if we have ever been in town on Easter. We told Zed about Easter egg hunts and he had no idea what we are talking about, so I’m thinking this is a first for him. Great party with lots of friends and kids scouring the ground for colorful versions of what we force feed them for breakfast every morning. It really is all about packaging.

I had arranged with my friend Craig to meet after our party for the third healing session he wanted to do on me. It was, once again, remarkable.

Similar to last time, hand closure was very simple and painless. My right arm easily moved straight up in parallel with my left arm. 30 minutes earlier I could scarcely get my elbow to the level of my chin. I cannot explain it, he doesn’t try to explain it, but it is very intense. There is no box in my brain where it all can fit neatly. At best, I feel like I’m cramming the experience in, holding it down with my knee and rolling some packaging tape over the top so none of the good feelings fall out.

It’s night time now and my hand is still moving freely, but I do worry that in the morning it will be stiff, swollen, as it has been after the last few experiences. I don’t know what makes it work, so it reasons that I have no clue on why it doesn’t stick. I do enjoy the limber, fluid, graceful hours.

I haven’t shot a “before” video because I never really feel like saying, “Annie, get the camera… I can’t move my hand or arm and I’d like to capture the moment”. But, as has become the tradition with the last few entries, here is a short “after” video.

I am scheduled for preop surgery tomorrow morning. I’ll meet with Dr. Soto and he’ll explain the whole procedure and we will have one more chance to look at x-rays. Craig was told that he had to pray for me three times — I’m really glad we got all three in before this meeting. If something is going to help, I really want to make sure I give it a chance.

The thought of having two new holes poked into me, and the following week of beginning the healing process all over again, has me pretty close to broken down. At the Easter party today, it was tough to keep it light and fun… so I pretty much just shut up and watched. How different a healthy version of Barry would have been a today’s party with a couple dozen kids, a trampoline, hula hoops, and whatever crazy toys I would’ve added to the mix. I’m going to need a new batch of optimism before long. Got to go check eBay.

Stay safe, everyone…

Yeah, that was way too much to do yesterday. I slept better than I have in a couple weeks so that is certainly an upside. But my right shoulder was hurting like the doctor always told me it might.

One day I will read this list of what brought on the pain and tiredness, and I’m sure I will laugh. Here it is: I did the dishes, set the table, did little bit of electrical work on my van, worked in the Raspyni office for two hours, played with the kids down on the play structure for half an hour, and cleaned up the garage a little bit. A pretty mellow routine in my pre-accident life

I tried sleeping with the tight glove on my right hand and made it for about two hours. That thing is way too intense to leave on all night. This morning my fingers were swollen real tight. I sat in a chair in the morning and rubbed them down with lotion for about 20 minutes and got them feeling okay again. I’m going to juggle again today — every day — because it does feel like it’s good for my fingers.

I’m at the point right now where I am able to do a fair amount of stuff with my right hand. I hope that after Thursday’s surgery I don’t regress. I don’t believe I should as all we are doing is adding a lot of healthy bone marrow to my collarbone. There will of course be that uncomfortable five day no shower zone — yuck! I have to make sure I go in good and clean this time I was unable to move before my last surgery, let alone a shower. I haven’t even done the math on how many days I went without one. Heads up to my fellow clavicle sufferers: if possible, go into surgery clean!

Tomorrow makes seven weeks since my accident. In some ways it seems to have gone by so fast. I never imagined that I would have a second surgery… even when he mentioned that it was a possibility if the bone didn’t reconnect. I guess that says something about my positive outlook — and also something about what it’s actually worth

I will end with a little video for your viewing pleasure.

Stay safe.

In one of my first entries into this blog back in February (when I was still naive), I wrote that only 5% of clavicle fractures required surgery. At that point I was still sure that I was going to be part of the 95%.

Well the innocence has been demolished and the remodeled reality looks like this: bone marrow grafting surgery is set for 7:30 a.m. on April 12th.

Cry. Whimper. Sob. Poor me poor me…

I am really ready for it to all be over, but what does that matter, right? I must not be done with whatever this has to teach me. I’m cool with that.

Everybody has something in their life that they want to stop, or go, or change, or be bigger — whatever it is. Sometimes we get to write the book of our life and sometimes we have to read it. This whole experience is turning out to be a real page turner.

I had a wildly productive day — even juggle three clubs for awhile! That felt really good.

My eyes are closing and my voice is slurring which makes speaking into this microphone a real hassle. This blog will be continued at a more lucid time.

Stay safe.

Wow! An entire week without blogging. Am I getting too casual, too laissez-faire about this entire recovery? Have I gone soft and sunken into a codeine induced slumber which keeps me from donning the headset microphone in talking about life while my computer screen fills with words? Have I been up at 5:30 in the morning biking, running, or swimming?

Well, the good and the bad news is that the answer to all the above questions is, “NO!”.

NOTE: I am going to ramble on about life for a couple of paragraphs. I know a lot of people are reading this who are also going through recovery of a broken clavicle. Scroll down a way and I will have a bold heading that says, “let’s talk clavicle”, if this is too boring for you.

I went to see Lino last Friday in Sacramento. He was great, of course. Annie and Zed and Kieran came along as we had a fun day planned in Sacramento. One minute a beastly therapist was twisting my swollen finger while I cried out in pain, and a few minutes later I’m sitting on a choo-choo train at Funderland. The excitement never stops.

Sunday was Zed’s fifth birthday party. Perfect weather, a huge sushi boat, and a house and yard full of friends. Not a bad way to spend a weekend. 15 kids got along so well, no one could believe it. The older they get the easier it gets. For a least a few more years.

LET’S TALK CLAVICLE

Getting a lot a good movement from the physical therapy. I have the exercises from the Hospital PT, and the stuff that Lino likes me to do. Saturday I went swimming with the Masters. It was my first time back with them and it felt so good. I did 42 laps, about a third of what makes a good workout normally, but it felt at least three times better than not doing it so — definite net gain. It is a mix of breaststroke, freestyle, and back. It’s funny, on the freestyle my right fingers drag across the water during recovery and entry is just past my ear. Those are two features of a really good stroke. I’ll have to see if I carry that over to my normal stroke when I get back to it.

Yesterday I went to a woman who does lymphatic therapy. She put these very tight fitting gloves on my hand and did all sorts of manipulation of my arm, shoulder, lymphatic system. Tonight my friend is coming over to lay his hands on me and pray again. The last time he did it was the only time I have been able to make a fist since this happened. I am leaving no stone unturned in my journey back.

So here comes the bummer. You didn’t think it was going to be all good, did you?

Yesterday I went to see Dr. Soto for my third biweekly postoperative appointment. The straight on x-ray of my clavicle looked really good, but the one that shoots up at the 25° angle showed, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that one side of my fracture is not knitting back to the bone.

In the interest of long-term strength, we decided it would be best to do a bone graft from my leg as soon as possible.

“Wait a minute my big bald friend… it’s all been sounding so good. You’re not going back under the knife, you’re almost healed, ready to get back on the road and having fun.”

For maximum comic effect, this is where I would tell you that I’m kidding. But no such luck today. Surgery is being scheduled as we speak

I think it’s actually a good thing. One of the breaks has thrown down so much bone that x-ray doesn’t even show where it was. The other break has had literally no change. This bone graft will certainly speed the recovery, as opposed to waiting, and waiting, and waiting… As we clearly established throughout this blog, I am not an extremely patient man.

I went swimming again today at the noontime masters meeting. Only made it 36 laps before I had a very definite feeling that I should stop. I hadn’t taken a pain pill since five in the morning. I’ll swim one more day this week and try to get to 1500 yards.

Since I wrote that last paragraph, my friend Craig came by and did his hands-on healing. I could tell you how amazing it was, but I thought it would be better to toss in this short video clip.

He wants to come by and do it one more time before I get my preoperative x-ray. I am all about it. It was very powerful, relaxing, and as you can see, undeniably effective. Craig doesn’t try to explain it — and I didn’t ask any questions.

That’s the life stuff. That’s the healing stuff.

Stay safe.

Hello healing fans…

Been a bunch a days since I stopped by with an update, so let me get you up to the state-of-the-art.

I went to see Lino on Monday and it was great again. Over the weekend I felt like a lot of the lymphatic fluid draining had slowed down, so I wanted to get that charging up again. He did just that. Neck manipulation, isolated traction in the C6, elbow, wrist, and finger manhandling. My finger was actually white and the skin was loose when I left there. I still couldn’t make a fist as the joint pain of my middle and ring fingers is still very intense.

Yesterday I went to the physical therapist at the hospital, Bill Garcia. He was really blown away by how my range of movement and improved since my first session. I mentioned to him that I had gone to somebody who had done some body work on me and he was very impressed. I kind of felt like I was cheating on them… (Bill, I’m seeing another man) Most of the measured movements were up 50% from my first visit! It helps to not have those ribs out of place.

After the visit with him I went to Cynthia for acupuncture. She put needles in my opposite hand and after about 30 minutes of sitting there, my right hand again looked like an Italian modeled floor — a mosaic of red, blue, black, purple spots and trails. When I went to sleep last night I had high hopes for this morning, but alas, I had a pair of fat sausage like fingers upon waking.

Bill gave me a couple additional stretches to do utilizing a pole and those are going well. I see a few more degrees of movement every time I do it. I’m still hooked on the toweled traction — I may never stop doing that. My clavicle feels so wonderful and I have been without the sling, for the most part, for the last three days.

This Friday will be five weeks since my surgery, and I have to keep remembering that Dr. Soto said it would be 10 to 12 weeks for full recovery. I imagine he says that because it actually takes 10 to 12 weeks for full recovery. But from the sand, five weeks seems like it should be more than enough time.

Life has certainly become more active in the last three days — I even did dishes with Annie tonight. I rode scooters with the Zed a few days ago. I’ve been twirling the balls in my hand a lot. So the key to feeling good about everything is to compare it to a week ago, and not to two months ago.

I can’t wait to get back to work. I booked a lot of good shows in the last week and they are the light at the end of my tunnel. Keep moving towards the light.

Oh! I almost forgot to mention this. Sunday we all went swimming. I did 20 laps and it felt incredible. On the breast stroke my right arm was getting out to about 80% of full extension, and on the freestyle I was just using my body as a fulcrum for my right arm just slapped its way back into the water. It took me 28 strokes to across the pool! Almost twice the normal amount of strokes for 25 yards. I did a couple warm-up laps laying on my back holding a kickboard and kicking. Zed did all the laps with me — what a swimmer he is becoming. I tried to make it to Masters swim a few times this week, but I don’t think I’m ready for a full hour at 5:30 in the morning.

Stay safe everybody!

Barry

This is the first time I have been stumped… I just hit the five-minute mark sitting here with my microphone on and wondering how to start this entry.

Why the confusion? Every day since my accident I had a pretty good understanding of what went down during the day. I would take some pain pills, try and move a little bit, eat a couple of meals, and play with my family if it didn’t hurt too badly. But take a quick peek at this!

Yep! Last night I couldn’t pick my nose with this hand. Not that I tried, mind you, I just knew better than to try moving the fingers.

Today my friend took me to see a physical therapist of a different breed. His background is in something called Ursa. Calling him a physical therapist doesn’t really make any sense, but I don’t know what else to call him. His name is Lino Cedros and here’s his website.

I’m going to run you through a quick breakdown of what he did and said. Certainly not because it’s the most exciting way to tell a story, it’s just that I want to get this experience out of my head so that maybe I can begin to make some sense of it.

I sat down in a chair and he came up behind me and started feeling my collarbone. I was a bit apprehensive, but he was so highly recommended, and I met two people in the waiting area who sang his praise, that I decided to just close my eyes and let it happen. He had his other hand against my two upper ribs on the right side. He told me they were out of place and then made some kind of strong squeezing between his hands and told me to press my hand straight down. I felt some radical movements inside my body. He asked me to raise my arm and it went pretty close to straight up.

He had my attention.

He dug his thumb into my C6 and manipulated my neck for about 30 seconds. He sat in front of me with both his hands holding my hand and his thumbs on the inside of my wrist. He wiggled it a bit and then forcefully separated my hand from my arm what felt like about a half an inch. I felt a ton of bone movement, and a fairly bitter taste shoot through my mouth.

Lino whispered, “there it is”.

He then moved down to the inevitable — he took a hold of my fattened middle finger and in about half a second I had to evaluate how much trust I had in this guy.

I let go.

This is a finger that I have gone several days without touching. If I look at it too long it hurts and here’s this guy who I had only known for five minutes — built like a weight lifter — with it in his Herculean hand. He squeezed it and bent it side to side while I loudly whispered, “oh mother, oh mother, oh mother”. I can’t quite remember feeling pain like that since I passed a kidney stone 20 years ago.

He told me that my fingers were so swollen from a massive buildup of lymphatic fluids. That stuff isn’t supposed to park itself in the fingers! The numbing was explained because lymphatic fluid was blocking all oxygen from the nerves.

I spent the next 20 minutes staring at my hand as the modeled colors of red, white, blue, and purple slowly gushed down towards my wrist… well past the second knuckle where the stagnation had been living for the last month.

Tonight, as I write this, the numbing in my ring finger is down about 40% and my middle finger, while still numb, is very colorful, less swollen, and more sensitive than I it has been since the accident. I have a lot of feeling of blood moving, lymphatic fluid draining, and real internal warmth.

I am able to close my hand a little bit further tonight. I expect the draining to keep going for a few days and hopefully I will be able to close my hand completely before I see him again next week.

It was a real interesting day.

So tonight I have been thinking why nobody told me my ribs were out of place, or that my fingers were puffy because of lymphatic fluid had taken up residence.

People have always seemed to come into my life when I am ready for them, and I certainly feel that today was no exception. Since the accident, my goal has been to get my body back to a healthy place and although I had been doing what all the professionals had advised, I believe there has always been a special guardian angel around me who kept asking, “what else?”.

And thank God for that.