I was just looking over my back injuries from when I was a child. I have spondylosis and spondylolisthesis, exacerbated by walking around for 9 months with a fractured spine. I had to endure painful physical therapy that shifted my spine and ultimately resulted in my bones fusing incorrectly as I grew during that 9 month period. I was only 8 and my bones were still changing and growing. The doctors total lack of understanding of my injuries has left me with permanent damage that no surgery will ever be able to correct, constant and sometimes excruciating pain and in effect, a deformed spine, leg, hips, and pelvis. It never really dawned on me what I had truly been up against all of these years. Not just the physical, but the emotional as well.
I wore a back brace so small that when my brother found it hiding away in a box after several years, he was able to place the brace around his bicep. My brother is not a large person. In fact he was quite fit at that time and you could most definitely purchase tickets to his gun show. I was teased mercilessly for that brace, encountered teachers, parents, and children that did not understand what had happened to me or why I wore the brace. It was worn under my clothes, was less than an inch thick, but it was there....with me all the time day and night. Forcing my spine to try to be straight, to form some semblance of a normal spine.
It would not be without gain, I succeeded in being able to stand up straight, a feat that had eluded me for months. My mom knew there was something wrong the day I could barely lift my leg over a baby gate and screamed in agony, she demanded more tests, more x-rays, just more...anything to relieve the pain. When the injury was found, I was immediately transferred to the Children's hospital where I met the first man I would develop a school girl crush and a fondness that left me in giggles, too shy to make eye contact. The worst part was the MRI, in 1993, MRI's were a terrifying portal to hell. Strapped to the bed and forced into a cone of darkness, hearing what sounded like animals beating on the sides of the machine; I was eventually forced to be sedated and strapped back. It took several hours. My day did not finish with an MRI, it finished with me being covered in Papier-mâché. That was the fun part. It was the only fun part.
I was left with emotional and physical scars. My physical scars are internal, you can not see the hemorrhaging disc, the misshapen spine that sits at a slight angle, or even tell that one leg is drastically longer than the other. I was forced to stop gymnastics, running, jumping; forced to explain why some physical activity I was capable of doing and others I couldn't. I left behind a childhood that was incredibly painful and full of teasing...not silly, children don't know any better, but teasing that left me unable to accept myself for who I was and the body that had now been given to me because of a stupid accident. I hated everything. I hated myself, my body, my family, and most vehemently, hated my parents. It was their fault I would scream, if they had just left me with MY REAL PARENTS, none of this would have ever happened. I would never had experienced such pain and hurt and I never would have felt so abandoned and hopeless in my life.
Life and all of it's tragedies happen, and no amount of going back in time will take them away. They will just continue to haunt you until you are able to take the last breath of all the pain and release it to the world, letting it know you have been hurt, you have been lost, and you have not abandoned your post in this world.
I went on a hike a couple of Saturdays ago. It ended as shamefully as any hike could; with me having to turn around and go back because my spine was making an attempt to release itself from my body.
I can't recall a time where I have been in that significant amount of pain in a long, long time. I probably injured my spine while doing Insanity and just didn't realize it until I made an attempt to do a fairly strenuous hike. I made it about an hour into the hike before it was just too much. At least I tried.
Our initial descent into the valley. It was about 8:15 am close to 90 degrees. Our descent took about 10 minutes and you could see into the valley where we would eventually be crossing.
This is just another shot of our descent, just getting deeper into the valley.
Delante is crazy and wears winter gear to go hiking.
This is part of a water fall, the river normally cascades over this portion but since its the dry season, well it is self-explanatory .
There are some pools that remain because water does continue to flow from the river.
These pools can be up to 20 ft deep.
Edge of what is normally a nice looking waterfall.
Getting ready to descend down the sides of the waterfall and the rocks.
A nice view of the tree line and the jungle.
The rock face we climbed down and then back up, just for fun.
Crossing through the river. Normally the river is about chest high, so its much easier to cross when its the dry season, but not as adventurous. That is pretty much where my hike ended. And that is all.
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