Recovery is not a straight line. Funny how people think there is a natural progression, and POOF, at the end of a few days or a week or three months (depending on your age and the natural healing powers of your body), you’re all better and back to normal, and able to dunk a basketball again. Not so.
Figuring out the body is not a machine (though it is a LOT like a machine in many ways) takes years. Some of us figure that out. Others don’t. The ones who don’t understand this tear some muscle that they should have stopped pushing years ago. When you reach the of stage of life where a repetitive athletic endeavor is causing you issues, it makes sense to moderate, if not stop the activity.
Instead, we often push on. There’s an injury, and you think, “Okay, I’ll be fine by the weekend.”
Years ago, I sprained an ankle playing basketball after coming down with a rebound. It had happened many times before, but at that stage of my life, I was also a referee and had a decent high school and small college schedule and didn’t want to back off from those games. So in John Wayne terms, “I laced up my shoes tightly” after taping the ankle, and limped through the next few games blowing the whistle.
The swelling went down quickly and I was fine probably a week or so later, with some twinges here and there to serve as a reminder. There were bad and good days, and it was one of those first situations where I understood your body doesn’t come back instantaneously from an injury.
More recently, I’ve had major surgery to remove bone spurs from my left heel, and in the process, the foot doctor had to pull my Achilles tendon out, tighten and replace it, and cut into my plantar fasciitis. That was a lot of stuff. I knew healing would take time, including rehab and backing off many activities.
But I didn’t realize how long it would take to better, nor the erratic nature of improvement. There were those first two months where I expected nothing. I knew there’d be pain and swelling and I’d be in physical therapy and needed to stretch, ice and rest. Slowly, things got better.
People would ask, “How’s it going?” For the most part, I could answer, “A little better than last week.”
Then, suddenly, for about eight days, excruciating pain returned 10 weeks after the surgery. It was sudden, unexpected and odd. “Why now?,” I thought. “What did I do to aggravate the surgical areas?”
I couldn’t figure that out. What I did figure out was that healing is not a straight line. You don’t incrementally every day (or week or probably even on a monthly basis) improve. There are good days and weeks and bad days and weeks. You must accept that.
Respect the little victories. Celebrate mild improvement.
Several months ago, someone posted a picture on LinkedIn that showed a bunch of squiggly lines looping around and around, crossing each other. They were juxtaposed with a straight line. The headline was something to the effect of the squiggly line image being “What Success Looks Like.” The straight line was not. It’s the same with getting healthy.
Figuring out the body is not a machine (though it is a LOT like a machine in many ways) takes years. Some of us figure that out. Others don’t. The ones who don’t understand this tear some muscle that they should have stopped pushing years ago. When you reach the of stage of life where a repetitive athletic endeavor is causing you issues, it makes sense to moderate, if not stop the activity.
Instead, we often push on. There’s an injury, and you think, “Okay, I’ll be fine by the weekend.”
Years ago, I sprained an ankle playing basketball after coming down with a rebound. It had happened many times before, but at that stage of my life, I was also a referee and had a decent high school and small college schedule and didn’t want to back off from those games. So in John Wayne terms, “I laced up my shoes tightly” after taping the ankle, and limped through the next few games blowing the whistle.
The swelling went down quickly and I was fine probably a week or so later, with some twinges here and there to serve as a reminder. There were bad and good days, and it was one of those first situations where I understood your body doesn’t come back instantaneously from an injury.
More recently, I’ve had major surgery to remove bone spurs from my left heel, and in the process, the foot doctor had to pull my Achilles tendon out, tighten and replace it, and cut into my plantar fasciitis. That was a lot of stuff. I knew healing would take time, including rehab and backing off many activities.
But I didn’t realize how long it would take to better, nor the erratic nature of improvement. There were those first two months where I expected nothing. I knew there’d be pain and swelling and I’d be in physical therapy and needed to stretch, ice and rest. Slowly, things got better.
People would ask, “How’s it going?” For the most part, I could answer, “A little better than last week.”
Then, suddenly, for about eight days, excruciating pain returned 10 weeks after the surgery. It was sudden, unexpected and odd. “Why now?,” I thought. “What did I do to aggravate the surgical areas?”
I couldn’t figure that out. What I did figure out was that healing is not a straight line. You don’t incrementally every day (or week or probably even on a monthly basis) improve. There are good days and weeks and bad days and weeks. You must accept that.
Respect the little victories. Celebrate mild improvement.
Several months ago, someone posted a picture on LinkedIn that showed a bunch of squiggly lines looping around and around, crossing each other. They were juxtaposed with a straight line. The headline was something to the effect of the squiggly line image being “What Success Looks Like.” The straight line was not. It’s the same with getting healthy.