A Sherri Update and Request

A Sherri Update and Request

To my lovely friends and family who have patiently listened to (or read) me babble about my recovery every  several months:

Two and a half weeks ago marks a year from my last surgery.  On April 15^th, 2011, I remember wondering if the nerve surgery I was about to receive would bring me to walk normally again.  At the time, I couldn’t lift my left foot and needed to wear a brace to assist with the foot drop.  I remember trying to set my expectations to be hopeful but practical.  That day I also had nine four-inch screws removed from my knees.  After months of having my IT band rub against them when I bent my knees, I can’t explain how wonderful it felt to have them out of my body.  

In so many ways this feels like ages ago.  A dream even.  To quickly recap – a few short weeks after my surgery, I began to slightly move my foot upwards.  Up until that point every morning I would wake up, look down at my feet, and concentrate as hard as I could to raise the left one.  I vividly remember the first morning that it moved...  I thought I was imagining it at first. The rush of hope through my body was amazing.  Shortly after I changed braces (to a smaller brace that allowed me to wear the same size shoe on both feet!) and not long after that, I was braceless! And, my knees felt great without the screws.

So what is going on now, over a year later?  To celebrate how fortunate I feel, I’ve decided to do a triathalon - a month from today!!  Okay, so it’s a little triathalon: 5k run, 10 mile bike ride, and ⅓ mile swim.  But it’s a huge deal for me!  a) because of all my body has been through over the past year and a half, and b) because I literally hadn’t run a mile since I realized (probably around 4^th grade) that I could actually walk the “mile run” in grade school.  Sherri Lane = not a runner.  But I started training about a month ago and am really making headway!  Full disclosure, I may not be able to run the whole 5k because of my knees, but my goal is to finish - pushing myself as hard as I can without screwing up any progress (no pun intended, hehe).

Regardless, it’s a fun challenge!  And I’ve decided to do it for a cause.  Many of you have already been so generous to give to one of the two organizations I spend time working/volunteering for (Accion and AMIGOS), and I in no way am writing to put pressure on you to give more if you are not interested!  BUT :) for those of you who are itching for a good cause and a compelling story (and have a few bucks lying around to share), I think I have a good idea for you:

My good friend Kendra Harrison has put a lot of heart and work into the orphanage “The Hogar Infantíl Visitación De Jesús” in the rural area of San Jose de las Matas, Dominican Republic.  This orphanage was founded by Kendra’s friend Rosa Núñez, who gained her experience working with children for 9 years in another orphanage.  While working for the other orphanage, Rosa learned of 2 children, Manuel (15) and Jordalisa (11), who were undergoing abuse and neglect at their home in the countryside. Jordalisa and Manuel are both blind and Manuel could not walk or speak at that time. The children were living in extreme hunger and poverty, and Jordalisa was the caretaker of Manuel and their 3 younger siblings. Rosa was appalled and deeply saddened by the situation of these children. Although she wanted to help them, she could not because the orphanage where she worked would not accept disabled children. (Read more about Rosa’s story here.)

Rosa has since started a successful orphanage, but the success is not without challenge and, of course, expenses!  For example, 9 of the 14 children need to pay to go to school, since the local public schools do not accept kids without documents.  I am proposing that we all help send these kids to school.  $30 a month covers tuition, books, supplies, and lunch.  For 9 kids that adds up to $2700 a year.  It’s a lot of money for the orphanage to handle, which is where we come in.  Here’s a few numbers for you:

$30 - send one child to school for a month

$300 - send one child to school for a (ten month) school year

I could go through the cliche “it’s only a dollar a day” or 2 weeks worth of Dunkin Donuts, or a nice dinner 

out, or that new shirt you really shouldn’t buy anyway.  (I guess I just did the cliche, didn’t I? oops :))  But it’s a great cause, and it would make Kendra, Rosa and me very very happy and grateful.  

If 19 of us each give $30, we’ll send all 9 kids to school for a year!  How awesome would that be?  I’m all about turning lemons into lemonade, and this is a great way to continue to do so with my accident.  Will you join me? 

If you’d like to contribute, please respond to this email and mail checks made out to “Hogar Infantíl Visitación De Jesús” to my home address:

Sherri Lane

22 Suffolk St #2

Cambridge, MA 02139

Thank you all again so much for your interest in my recovery.  I am beyond grateful for your prayers, thoughts, and care.  We all have a ton to be thankful for, which is pretty nice to remember sometimes.  

Lots and lots of love,

Sherri

December 10, 2011 One year later

"Life goes on"

The past couple of weeks have been very nostalgic for me. Thinking about where I was a year ago today and where I would be a year ago tomorrow is mind blowing. And here I am, off in the mountains in Colorado visiting some best friends and snow shoeing on my bionic legs.

I’ve been desperately trying to sum up the year in my head – what have I learned from it all?? In many ways I feel like I’m the same person I was a year ago – same home, same job, same activities, biking, dancing, frolicking. But having been through so much I want to be different, And I think I am. One of the things I’ve learned is that life goes on. It sounds simple, but at certain points in my recovery, I was very stuck on the uncertainties. In particular, as many of you know, it was difficult for me to imagine my life with a bum foot. And sure, maybe it’s easy for me to say, “hakuna matata, life goes on” now that I’m braceless and biking… but I still can’t feel my foot, I’m still in pain every day, and my bones hurt when the weather changes, and that’s okay. Because life goes on, and we adapt. I hope to look at other areas of life with this attitude and not sweat the small stuff as much. When in the moment, it’s always easy to blow things out of proportion, but at the end of the day, we generally figure something out.

I’ve also developed a new take on the “is the glass half empty or half full?” question. Shortly after the accident, my mom’s friends gave me a nice ring that is engraved with nothing is impossible. I wore it at first, but then removed it thinking, “Psh, that is silly. Of course some things are impossible, let’s be logical here.” But recently I put it back on. Not because I’ve healed so much, but because although I still don’t think everything is possible, I do think it’s helpful to hope. And yes, it’s good to be realistic and set expectations, but not at the expense of optimism. So at the end of the day, I think I would still answer, “it depends” to the question, because of course I always have to over analyze… but then I would pick up the glass, drink the rest, and fill it again! (Hopefully it’s a delicious brewsky.) J It doesn’t hurt to be positive.

In all seriousness, we all know it’s been a crazy year. Another thing I’ve learned, or rather solidified, is that there is such thing as agape love. Agape, Greek for unconditional love, is what my mother has shown to me over these past 12 months (especially the first 5). You all know her – have you ever met a more selfless, loving, genuine woman? I am so blessed to have her in my life and I can’t write a reminiscing post without mentioning her.

But now I’ve gotten on the “I’m thankful for” train, which would be miles long. As I’ve said before, words cannot express how loved I felt during this whole ordeal. Many of you have been in the thick of it with me – some here, some from a far. And I’ll say it again: it was you who got me through it. I had some pretty low lows at times, but the support was always there, and I always had a shoulder to cry on. Today, a year after the accident, I can confidently say I’m a stronger person. I may not beat you in a race (but let’s be honest, could I ever?) but in addition to rods in my legs, I’ve grown a stronger backbone. And I’m happy as can be.

The first 6 months of my 2nd Quarter Century

If you could’ve asked me six months ago where I would be in a half a year I may have answered something along the lines of biking around Cambridge, lending to local small business owners during the week, training a group of 25 high schoolers for summer trips to Latin America on the weekends, dancing and socializing whenever someone will join me, and generally keeping busy planning for future phases of life. I would have been spot on. Of course, I would’ve had no clue how much I was about to learn in the coming months, for example: to walk for the second time in my life. (Ask my mother, the first time took much longer!)

Clearly the last six months have been a different type of journey than I would have asked for. There have been a lot of tears, a lot of pain, a lot of frustration and questioning and emotion. But there has also been so much learning and growing and support and realization. Would I do it all again? Of course not, but since I had to go through it I may as well take away some more than a couple new rods in my legs (and more than a couple scars!).

In preparing to write an update to all of you, I reread through this blog. It’s hard to describe the series of emotions I encountered while reading, particularly as I was reminded yet again of the support from my family and loved ones as they dealt with a different version of my nightmare. I’m incredibly moved every time I think of what it must have been like at the hospital for my mom, amy and heather that first night, and for those closest to me that remember much more of the first week than I do. I’m overwhelmed with gratitude towards each of you who held my hand those days, both literally and figuratively.

I thought I’d take this 6 month mark to jot down some things I remember from the roller coaster ride.

It’s interesting that what happened in the matter of days seems like weeks to me looking back. For example, I can’t believe I sat on the edge of the bed on day 5! And I thought I went weeks before they switched me to a 12 hour base pain med (it was actually only one week). I wish I could remember all the crazy dreams and hallucinations I had while on the really hard pain meds. There was a talking dog, neon lights, moving hospital walls, a cat behind the Christmas tree, and one time Kim tried to eat a salad off my leg. I remember thinking it would be awesome if I had the energy to tell people in the room all the crazy things I was seeing.

There were lots of seemingly simple challenges that were anything but simple: Touching a foot, then two, to the ground; the infamous CPM machine; dealing with the nurses; the first time I got to that chair two feet from my bed (oh man, remind me never to complain about biking uphill again!); and don’t even get me started on using a bed pan.

I remember feeling grateful at Christmastime, even more so than I do now - I need to remember that. I think in a way it was easier at the beginning - when it was just a whirlwind of [hopefully] temporary insanity. The more it all became a reality and the less confident I became in the future of my foot, the scarier and harder it was to deal with.

I was also impatient by Christmas. I remember I wanted to get to rehab SO BAD because I was terrified they would say to me “well if you had been working on this for the past x days, you’d be ok, but since you haven’t, y horrible thing will happen as a result”. And I remember getting frustrated at my family for not insisting that I do the exercises that the hospital therapist had assigned. How dare they, right? J I remember one resident (tangent: did I mention the residents loved getting me up at 4am to “check on me”? grey’s anatomy translation - get ahead of all the other residents by starting your rounds at insane hours and keeping abreast of the good cases. Seriously! I caught one resident from vascular hiding behind the curtain while an ortho resident filled me in on other surgical details) told me it was all just up to me, I couldn’t rely on any of them (docs or therapists) to make me better, I had to just work at it myself. Some of the best advice I remember from UMass Memorial.

After what seemed like at least a college semester (albeit much less fun), I finally moved on to rehab where the battle was OT vs PT. I much preferred PT since I didn’t want to use a tube with a jump rope attached to put on socks, I wanted to be able to put it on my foot by myself! But man, getting there was the most painful part of all of this. Stretching, bah! I can’t remember exactly what the pain was like but I remember almost blacking out multiple times, complaining about it and (jokingly) threatening to punch my therapist! My lack of patience really has been shown to me through this ordeal (in fact, my current PT says it’s why I’ve come so far).

One big lesson I learned at Spaulding was from the neighbor across the hall, George. George was a young guy, maybe 30 or so, a vet. He had stepped on a landmine years before and had been dealing with medical complications ever since. Recently these complications led to the loss of both of his legs. Watching him go through therapy made me remember day after day how close I came to losing a limb. It was sometimes hard for me when people said “you were so lucky!”, because generally I would have preferred someone else’s luck, but it just goes to show that we’re all dealing with something, right? Although I didn’t feel particularly “lucky” so to speak, I certainly was glad to still have my leg. Now months down the road I wonder how many other things I’ve let go out of perspective.

I came a long way at Spaulding but I didn’t want to leave when it was time to go. Although I wasn’t a huge fan of the plastic mattress, I didn’t like the idea of giving up five days of constant physical therapy when I wasn’t better yet. Plus, I worried that moving home would remind me of how different my changed body would feel in my old life. But my dad said it right: “of course finding the new normal doesn’t mean actually arriving at a destination does it?” My roommates (including my mother for a long while!) made the switch bearable and even fun at times. They were all very patient with me as I took over the living room, added a booster seat to the toilet and a chair to the shower, and freaked out every time anyone came within 3 feet of my left foot.

My first month at home seems like forever ago now. Dance parties with Kim as I conquered the stairs, countless episodes of the West Wing, practicing walking by frequenting the mall (and subsequently falling into the trap of retail therapy), learning to live with shoes a size and a half different, slamming my fingers in the car door and crying for an hour even though I didn’t hurt anything, visitors from all over the country, solidifying my sweet tooth, my roommates hosting a pajama party so no one would want to leave and go dancing (since I couldn’t), trying to muster the energy to get back to work, going from two crutches to one to none, gradually conquering the fear of riding in the car and crossing the street… the list could go on.

Then all of a sudden I was ready to try riding my bike. Man, I remember so clearly the day in Spaulding rehab when I made all of the nurses and doctors and therapists listen to Queen’s “I want to ride my bicycle”. It was my goal – I was going to make it happen as soon as possible. Keep in mind at that point my legs weren’t even bending 90 degrees. So mid march I borrowed a good friend and master biker for support, donned my helmet, and went for it. Let me just tell you I cannot explain the happiness that overtook me that day. Not only did my legs bend enough to ride, but I wasn’t afraid of the traffic! We rode on cloud nine.

Slowly but surely I’ve been able to get back to my normal life. Much too slowly if you ask me, but we all know patience isn’t my strongest quality. I couldn’t believe how long it took me to get with it mentally. I thought I would be back to work as soon as I got home from the hospital but it seemed to take forever! I wasn’t sure if it was the pain meds, the fact that I had been out for a while, the general affects of the trauma (whatever that means), or if I was just always that slow and I had never realized it. Very frustrating.

Sorry if I am sounding negative. Many of you have been generous in describing me as strong, resilient, positive. I wish I could say I have been optimistic 100% of the time but those who have had to deal with me on a regular basis (particularly my mother and roommate kim – bless their hearts) know otherwise. I hope to live up to my father’s description: “I would characterize her outlook as positive with a healthy dose of realism”. I’m only trying to manage my expectations. If from the beginning I were anxiously waiting for everything to be back to the way it used to be I would have been in for a lot of disappointment. I realize things are different and I’m working at adjusting… but I can’t say I’ve constantly had a smile on my face.

My biggest challenge even as my legs continued to strengthen and heal was the continued unknown recovery plan for my foot. Some days I would wake up and feel so sad because I knew as soon as I stood up, I’d remember I couldn’t walk without my brace. And then I would get frustrated with myself because “well at least you can walk fine with the brace! Stop being such a baby.” It’s hard to feel like you’re making a big deal about something that in the grand scheme of things, doesn’t seem like that huge of a deal, but in the moment it just overtakes you. (This can be applied to much less important things as well, of course.) It’s funny, you’d think that breaking both femurs would be more of a big deal than a floppy foot, but the thing is, I knew my legs would get better. With the foot it’s just a constant mystery.

Fortunately, 6 months and one more surgery later I can honestly say I have hope about my foot. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still managing my expectations about it getting completely better, which it probably won’t, but I’m growing more and more content with the way it is healing. I remember the first day it went from no movement to a slight downward motion back in Worcester. Then once I got home from Spaulding it started slightly moving to the right. A week after my most recent nerve surgery it started inching its way left. And finally, just a few weeks ago, I woke up and was able to move it slightly upwards. Shortly after that I was able to get a smaller brace that gives my ankle more wiggle room, and I’m working my way towards getting rid of it all together! (Side note: the day I graduated from brace number one was another cloud nine type experience. I thought I was going to be stuck in that large white cast-like brace for the rest of my life – imagine my thrill when they let me switch to a small black carbon fiber brace which means I can wear my favorite shoes again.)

Of course, it’s always easier looking back. If you could’ve told me on day one exactly when I was going to get better I would have been fine mentally. That’s why even though my legs breaking was a big deal, I wasn’t nearly as phased by it because I knew they would get better. I wonder what my mindset would have been like had the bone not severed the artery and smashed the nerve, leaving my left foot as normal as the right - I’m sure the recovery still would have been traumatic. Again, it’s all in perspective.

I’ve already taken a lot out of this experience and I honestly am curious about all I am going to continue to learn about myself as I continue to heal. I hope that as time goes on I don’t forget the life lessons I’ve been forced to think about. I would love to thank each and every one of you who has impacted my life so positively over the past 6 months, but that would take pages. Please know that I absolutely could not have done it without all of your support. Again and again reading the blog I was reminded of the infallible support from my family. So I’d like to say a special thank you to them. Mom and Dad: I can’t even imagine doing this without you. Your constant support, prayers, phone calls, logistical assistance, long visits – the fact that you have dropped everything for me – means more than I can say.

There are many cliché phrases with which I could finish this, but I’ll leave you (and myself) with this thought: As I lived through the last six months, everything seemed to progress excruciatingly slowly; now, looking back, it seems like a blink of an eye. On the days I feel discouraged I am trying to remember how much progress I’ve made, all the amazing people that have helped me to do so, and the fact that in six more months I’m sure I’ll look back and have accomplished still more.

Thanks for reading!

New collection

Last Friday Sherri picked up another scar for her collection. She also cast off some hardware amounting to 9 screws. Here's a look at her collection of screws..... Whoa!

Scar tissue and screws removed

<< April 15 >>

Dear Family and Friends,

Sherri's morning surgery today went well. The neurosurgeon was able to identify the nerve had not been severed; rather it was crushed as was suspected. He found quite a bit of scar tissue and was able to successfully remove it. It was not necessary to graft or otherwise transplant any nerve tissue. As we have known, a new period begins now and will take most likely at least a few months before Sherri knows if there will be an improvement. It's also possible it could be sooner. As her grandmother said this evening "all things are possible" and we certainly agree with that !!

On Thursday, the day before the surgery, it was decided in a separate appointment with Sherri's orthopedic surgeon that the 9 screws should also be removed on Friday. So sure enough, after the neurosurgery, an orthopedic surgeon removed the screws that had secured the titanium rods in both her legs. Now she "only" has a titanium rod in each leg.

Sherri and Wendy arrived at the hospital just before 6am, Sherri was put under just before 9 and by 2:30 she was taken to her hospital room. She was in a pleasant frame of mind! She slept the better part of the afternoon and evening and tomorrow she is scheduled to head back to her apartment in Cambridge.

Hopefully within a week or so she'll be back to her physical therapy routine 3X a week and pressing forward with the marvelous blessing of life itself.

Thank you for being there and most especially for your prayers on Sherri's behalf.

Gratefully,

Steve


Note: For those of you celebrating Easter in just a week, Wendy and I take this opportunity to say the astounding and meaningful phrase: "He is Risen".

Nerve Surgery

<< April 11; 4 months >>

Dear Family and Friends,

Many of you have asked about Sherri. And many of you have prayed for and remain praying for Sherri. This note is not so much an update on her condition but is instead a short request for you to lift up Sherri in your prayers for the following:

>> Nerve surgery this Friday, April 15 at 8am (check-in 6am !!) The goal of this surgery is to work on Sherri's peroneal nerve as this is still showing no signs of recovery. The surgery may involve one nights stay at the hospital involving an incision of 4 or 5 inches on the inside of her left knee beginning just above the knee. This surgery will:

• provide the Neurosurgeon visibility to the nerve. Traditional x-rays and cat scans do not provide visibility to the nerve, so to see it's condition, the docs have to perform surgery. If everything appears in perfect order, the surgery would end.
  
  
• enable scar tissue to be cleared from the injury site a few inches above and around Sherri's knee. It is very possible that scar tissue has built up from the original impact of the accident as well as from follow on surgeries. Clearing the scar tissue may enable the nerve to regenerate.
  
  
• enable surgery on the nerve itself. If the nerve is actually severed, this would allow the surgeon to align the nerve properly unto itself so as to optimize the prospect of regeneration. If the nerve is crushed the surgery may allow for the possibility of "snipping" off the frayed ends and then aligning the nerve.
  
  
• It's also possible the surgeon may harvest a small nerve from the bottom of Sherri's foot and place it as a "gap filler" to provide a fully aligned nerve path.
  
  
• Another possibility is the surgeon may insert a conduit as a guide path within which to lay the nerve.

>> The point of working on the nerve is because this nerve plays a key role in sending instructions to Sherri's lower leg muscles. So the nerve surgery has a bearing not only in terms of feeling/sensation but also and significantly the prospect of Sherri lifting her foot. This would be a great development and would enable her to possibly no longer wear the leg/foot brace.

>> While the surgery is not primarily directed at relieving her nerve pain, it is possible this could be a positive outcome.



Sometimes the splicing and repair of an electrical cord comes to mind. However, when the electrical cord is connected together, the electricity flows immediately and the light goes on. That is not the case here. In this procedure, the nerve needs to be aligned just so, and then the regeneration can begin. The regeneration process usually occurs over months and can be a year or two. So it will be quite some time before we see "results".

As you can see, there are many "ifs" in this surgery - just like life itself. And so we ask for your prayers for:

>> Sherri - that her leg will be healed
>> the surgeon and his team - for wisdom and knowledge and skill
>> and every aspect of the preparation and follow up.

Wendy and I are very grateful for your prayer support over the last several months (four months today). Wendy will return to Cambridge this Thursday, the surgery is this Friday, and Nick and I will join the following week on Good Friday for the Easter weekend.

Thanks for your demonstrated love and your effectual, fervent prayer for Sherri.

Gratefully,

Steve

p.s. In many ways, Sherri is doing great. She's walking a ton using her brace, enjoys riding her bike, and is able to get around, albeit a bit more slowly than she's used to! She continues to be greatly challenged with nerve and other pain and is courageously working through it. She continues her PT 3 times a week.

Oh, The Nerve

<< Sunday, Feb 6 >>

Dear Family and Friends,

Yesterday marked 8 weeks since Sherri's accident. So much has happened and Wendy and I continue to be so grateful for the vitality of life that Sherri continues to have. It's sobering and spectacular to consider the complexities of our physical bodies and all the related and intertwined emotional, mental, relational, and spiritual dynamics that come with each of "the humans" - as I like to say.

Sherri has come a long way in 8 weeks - and she continues to have quite a journey ahead of her. Here are a couple of updates:

Good news: she saw an Orthopedic Surgeon on Thursday and he was very impressed with how well her two femur breaks are recovering. It reminds us how fortunate Sherri is to have a titanium nail in each femur as it gives a very strong support to her and allows the bone to heal even while she puts weight on it. So the doctor was very encouraged by how well the bones are healing.

As for Sherri's left leg, there has not been any discernible change. She wears the brace a good part of the day and a heavier boot at night. The brace helps her walk, and both help to battle the onset of foot drop. Nerve pain continues to be a big challenge from the knee on down. I've not commented to much on this previously,however, it is something that is usually present and often times it is significant and disruptive, especially at night. A related aspect of this, of course, is sleep disruption. Oh, the nerve.....

Pain management remains a key focus and challenge to achieve without continuing the cocktail of meds. Continued experimentation with the level and timing will go on for some time. Nerve pain can be especially trying so for those of you supporting Sherri in prayer, please keep this one right up there with prayer for healing.

Mobility is gradually increasing and Sherri now gets around her apartment using a single crutch. It appears that getting back to any kind of a normal gait much less a normal pace will be a long time coming. This isn't keeping Sherri from enjoying friends visiting in the evenings. Mobility is often hampered by things never previously thought of. For example, it is very challenging to get in and out the front door of her apartment. It's a reasonably heavy door that has a self closing mechanism. Opening the door and navigating in with the crutch is almost impossible for her right now. And presently, she is not carrying anything such as she might when returning from work or from the market.

What can be done? Mostly wait, most say. Virtually everyone we've spoken to so far indicate that we must wait. I'm aware that others do suggest certain treatments but we've not yet embarked seriously in that direction at this time. We need great wisdom in these matters and a whole lot of patience.

Activities continue to go on. Physical therapy occurs 3 times a week and sometimes there are other doc visits. Sherri continues to use the stairs at her apartment for therapy: she puts on some good music and goes up and down the 16 stairs for multiple repetitions (with one crutch). Her apartment-mate Kim has been such a great help in this (and so much more).

Family and friends continue to be a source of great encouragement to Sherri whether in person or virtually. Surely relationships are one of the greatest gifts from the Lord and it's in times like these it's especially meaningful and valued.

It's been said that as time goes on it's better to measure progress in weeks or even months. Even in just a week it is difficult to see changes. So with this in mind, updates will continue on a less frequent basis.

While the updates will not come as frequently, our appreciation for you and your standing in the gap for us continues to be deeply appreciated and noted daily. Thank you.

Gratefully,

Steve