Recovery. It is not a great experience. By definition, something bad had to happen first. Everyone goes through it at some point. Whether it is recovery from a serious illness or injury, grief, addiction or any of the other misfortunes that can strike us down. I was lucky enough to live a fairly blessed existence for much of my life and avoided a lot of these obstacles until recently. I had obviously come up against minor failures, injuries, stress and disappointments that are inevitable in everyday life. I have also lost friends and family members I loved, which has been emotionally challenging for periods of time.
However it was only recently that I suffered a physical ailment that was to have such as impact on my life it would require an extended period of recovery and a re-evaluation of my goals for the next few years. Now to some people, who have suffered more severe accidents, I may sound like I am making rather a big deal of this. I don’t mean to overstate the severity of my injury (a ruptured medial ligament), but it was a major and sustained disruption to my life, which is why I felt it was worth talking about. I had been planning on running the Bruny Island Ultramarathon again, (after enjoying it so much last year) and walking the Overland Track within a few months of the injury. Aside from putting an end to those plans for this year, ending my soccer season and most likely ruling me out of touch football for the summer season, it was also going to put my fitness a long way back from where it had been, making some of my other goals, more difficult in the long term. Professionally, it made my job a lot harder and less enjoyable, while it reduced my ability to work in my part-time army reserve job, costing me money.
A few months after the injury, still leaning further to the left than the ABC and still with a seemingly long road ahead to return to full fitness, I am realising that recovery is quite a unique experience, and one that I did not fully understand until now. I was not really prepared for the far-reaching impact a significant injury or illness can have on your life and found it quite difficult to adjust for a few days. I believe I was lucky enough to adjust and cope with the situation quite well, but I can see how events like this can be the start of a downward spiral for some people. I wrote this piece to share some of the things I found difficult and what I focused on to help me get through it. Hopefully it gives people a better perspective on what others are going through in recovery and, more importantly, offers some tips for getting through recovery as happily as possible. Obviously this piece focuses on recovery from significant physical injury. I have also experienced the difficulty of emotional recovery from the loss of family and friends, which is discussed on a separate page.
Go to Recovery from Emotional Loss
The Challenges
Uncertainty
One of the things I had not anticipated and really struggled with was the uncertainty. I realised my body is a pretty complicated construct and most treatment plans and timelines are inexact. This took some major cognitive realignment, as I had assumed if I ever became badly injured, I would go to a specialist and they would say, “Do this, this and this, and you will be able to walk again in x days.” The reality was that my treatment had to be re-evaluated on a weekly basis and timelines were regularly being revised. Particularly in the early phase when the initial diagnosis was yet to be confirmed by MRI, this was pretty stressful, although good doctors and physios helped a lot. I am extremely grateful to Peter Eckhardt at Back In Motion Physiotherapists and Miles Callahan, the orthopaedic surgeon, for the quality of their care. Even with confidence in my medical advice, I still couldn’t see the small progress I was making each day, which led part of me to quickly worry that something else was wrong or that things just weren’t getting better. I could see that I had improved from a week ago, but couldn’t really identify an improvement from the day before. Had I stopped making progress? Was my leg worse than anticipated?
Why me?
I also found it difficult to accept the randomness of the injury and how much capacity I would lose. I had set myself some pretty ambitious targets for the next twelve months. I had to quickly accept that most of these goals would likely not be reached. It next became more obvious that many other things I took for granted, such as bushwalking with my dad, were also on hold for a while. And all of this for a freak accident that I could have easily avoided if had been a bit more cautious.
Hyperbolic pessimism
“What if I never run or bushwalk again?” I wondered, slightly melodramatically. I had been assured that would not be the case by physicians I trusted, but late at night when there is no one to talk to, that assurance becomes eroded by the anxious voice inside my head. And once the voice takes hold, more flawed and worrisome cognates follow. What would have been the point of all the hard work I had done getting fit before I was injured? Very quickly, in my head, I had retrospectively changed my purpose for running and sport from enjoyment, health and personal fulfilment to one that was all about results and meaningless numbers. I really had to consciously fight this and remind myself that the work I had done prior to the injury was probably what had saved me from further damage to other parts of my leg and would also hasten my recovery. With deliberate attention to it, I had to reset goals, starting with just being able to just run and then building up from there.
Fatigue
I also wasn’t prepared for just how tiring it is being injured. Due to my level of impairment I wasn't doing a lot of physical activity, but each day was more tiring than I expected as a result of increased levels of anxiety and the fact that everything is more difficult than before. Added to that, the change to routines and worries about the future, along with the physical discomfort of sleeping wearing a leg brace, tend to make sleeping more difficult, so while I found I needed more sleep than I expected, it was often difficult to achieve this.
Independence lost
For the first month, I was unable to put a sock on or do up the shoelaces of my right foot, let alone, drive and do other things I had taken for granted. The lack of mobility and independence was doubly challenging, as it coincided with a high volume of initial medical appointments, as I struggled to get a definitive picture of what was wrong with me. On top of that, basic things like buying and preparing food for one’s self present a whole new challenge. I was lucky enough to be able to stay with my wonderful parents for much of the time I was most restricted, as well as being inundated with offers of help from friends and colleagues. Even with such tremendous support, I still felt the limitations on my freedom of movement and action to be quite frustrating.
So, as I have outlined, an extended recovery period is not easy or much fun. Some of the challenges were predictable to me, but there were also some challenges I had not expected. For all of that, I am getting through it staying fairly positive. If you are facing a similar period to me, I recommend maintaining some optimism. Here are some of the strategies that helped me get through it (I considered making the title of this text, “7 Steps To A Positive Recovery,” but since I don’t write for Buzzfeed, I could see that would be trite).
Getting through it
Keep it in perspective
At time of writing this I am in my mid-thirties and have already lost two of my best friends to things they couldn’t recover from. The inconvenience of not being able to the things I want, the indignity of needing so much help and even the sacrifice of many of my goals and favourite passtimes are small prices to pay for the chance to get better. Because for all my whinging earlier, RECOVERY IS A PRIVILEGE! It means things are getting better. Maybe not as quick as you like and maybe not without setbacks, but they are getting better. Not everyone gets to recover from their lowest points in life. Be glad that you get the chance and have the courage to take it.
Accept help
It also gets a lot easier once you swallow your pride. Most likely there are people out there who are very happy to make your life easier. Some will probably offer their assistance every day, but those who don’t, are often just as happy to help if you are not too proud to ask. There is no honour to be gained in battling to do everything on your own. You have probably been there to help out an injured family member or friend yourself in the past, so you know from your own experience, helping others doesn’t feel like the chore or imposition you have suddenly imagined it has become when others help you. If you have a temporary disability, stop fighting it and start accepting some help. This wasn’t something I was very good at, but whenever I succeeded in doing so, I found life could be a whole lot less difficult than I realised.
Be productive and creative with your time
A recovery time is often a period of restricted activity, but there are often things you can still do. Even being mostly immobilised, it is still possible to resist the pull of mediocrity and do something purposeful that has a value. If you have a time-poor life, you may have begun to neglect certain aspects, but your enforced rest may be a chance to arrest this. Are you learning a language or an instrument? Have you been meaning to write a letter or read a book? One of the reasons I believe I was able to ride out the periods of immobility was I had lots of purposeful things to do, which made me feel like I was still accomplishing things and also meant I was never bored. As tempting as it might seem, spending eight hours of the day playing play station or watching Netflix is not what I would call productive or useful, because at the end of the day you have nothing to show for it other than a headache. You have learnt nothing, achieved nothing, created nothing and had no impact on anyone else; so it is little wonder people begin to feel unfulfilled when these activities become their daily routine.
Take ownership- Carpe Diem!
A bit of bad luck doesn’t have to ruin your life. Most of the time you are the only one who can do that by not making a plan to get over it (of course there are occasions where things are beyond your control, but if you have the opportunity to recover, you have the chance to take control back). So take control of your recovery. Work hard for your recovery. For me, getting my mobility back became a high priority so I never skipped exercises set for me by the physio. If you are trying to let your body recover, give it the best chance possible. Apart from being a depressant, alcohol also inhibits the body’s ability to function at its best, so the decision to cut alcohol completely (had a couple of light beers at my best friend’s wake, but that was the only exception) was an easy one. Sleep is also vital for recovery and I have already mentioned that I found the whole process tiring, so I made sure I took plenty of opportunity to sleep and when I couldn’t sleep I often rested, keeping deliberate control of my thoughts to keep my outlook positive.
Could there even be a positive in the long term?
It also occurred to me that this challenge was a part of life I had not yet experienced and when I had got through it I would have a greater empathy and understanding of others who were going through their own recovery processes. In this way I could almost view my misfortune as a positive, as I could be a more credible and effective friend to others. Something else I realised was that I had for a long time been taking a lot of things for granted as I strove to get fitter and faster. I knew that once I was recovered, I would in fact be happier than before I was injured because I would now place greater value on what I had taken for granted. That was something to look forward to, as I had thought life had been pretty bloody good before.
As well as committing to a really solid recovery, I committed myself early to working really hard to getting my fitness back. I’m actually looking forward to that too. Having achieved a relatively high level of fitness, I have spent much of the last decade only making incremental improvements that have been hard to even observe. While the thought of losing so much fitness is a little disappointing, I know that I am going to improve at a much quicker rate than I am used to, which I expect to be extremely motivating.
Take inspiration from others
I had two great heroes as my inspiration. Thinking of the battles they fought, helped me keep my challenges in perspective and made me determined not to waste precious days of my life wallowing in self-pity. Life is too short; too unpredictable; and too wonderful for that. Remembering the plight of those less fortunate than myself, I actually allowed myself to consider the possibility that the damage could be worse than anticipated and I may never run again. Sure that would be awful, but would life still be worth living? Absolutely. There would still be hundreds of sources of enjoyment, challenge and fulfilment available to me. It wouldn’t take away what I had already achieved and was proud of.
Be thankful
I also found it very helpful reflecting on everything I had to be thankful for. When I thought about it, there was a lot. I had wonderful support from friends, colleagues and family. I had also been fortunate to have achieved a lot in the time before I injured myself, which gave me a lot of belief that I could get through this. I was very impressed with the standard of medical care I received and was thankful for our Medicare system and my private health insurance. And I was thankful for every development I made towards recovery. When the MRI ruled out further damage; when I could sit in a chair with relative comfort again; when I could bend my knee enough to drive; when I could use an exercise bike to combat the continuing muscle wastage and after that being able to remove the leg brace. Every time one of these milestones was passed, I was thankful. I am looking forward to the next step which will be when I can walk without a limp and hopefully soon when I can attempt to run. Along with being thankful internally, I was deliberate in being explicit about my gratitude to others during the time. I felt that the act of giving thanks reinforced my belief that I had plenty to be grateful for.
So that was my experience. Or at least the beginning of it. I have been given a prognosis of six months for full recovery, but then I have to try to get back the fitness I have lost and who knows how long that will take. But I will continue to work towards it with optimism and will continue to record my observations and progress on a separate page. For the dozens of people who have asked me how I am coping, thank you. Hopefully this provides a more detailed answer than I usually have the time to give. To anyone who has recently begun their own recovery process, hopefully something I have said might help you, although I realise everyone will approach things slightly differently.
However it was only recently that I suffered a physical ailment that was to have such as impact on my life it would require an extended period of recovery and a re-evaluation of my goals for the next few years. Now to some people, who have suffered more severe accidents, I may sound like I am making rather a big deal of this. I don’t mean to overstate the severity of my injury (a ruptured medial ligament), but it was a major and sustained disruption to my life, which is why I felt it was worth talking about. I had been planning on running the Bruny Island Ultramarathon again, (after enjoying it so much last year) and walking the Overland Track within a few months of the injury. Aside from putting an end to those plans for this year, ending my soccer season and most likely ruling me out of touch football for the summer season, it was also going to put my fitness a long way back from where it had been, making some of my other goals, more difficult in the long term. Professionally, it made my job a lot harder and less enjoyable, while it reduced my ability to work in my part-time army reserve job, costing me money.
A few months after the injury, still leaning further to the left than the ABC and still with a seemingly long road ahead to return to full fitness, I am realising that recovery is quite a unique experience, and one that I did not fully understand until now. I was not really prepared for the far-reaching impact a significant injury or illness can have on your life and found it quite difficult to adjust for a few days. I believe I was lucky enough to adjust and cope with the situation quite well, but I can see how events like this can be the start of a downward spiral for some people. I wrote this piece to share some of the things I found difficult and what I focused on to help me get through it. Hopefully it gives people a better perspective on what others are going through in recovery and, more importantly, offers some tips for getting through recovery as happily as possible. Obviously this piece focuses on recovery from significant physical injury. I have also experienced the difficulty of emotional recovery from the loss of family and friends, which is discussed on a separate page.
Go to Recovery from Emotional Loss
The Challenges
Uncertainty
One of the things I had not anticipated and really struggled with was the uncertainty. I realised my body is a pretty complicated construct and most treatment plans and timelines are inexact. This took some major cognitive realignment, as I had assumed if I ever became badly injured, I would go to a specialist and they would say, “Do this, this and this, and you will be able to walk again in x days.” The reality was that my treatment had to be re-evaluated on a weekly basis and timelines were regularly being revised. Particularly in the early phase when the initial diagnosis was yet to be confirmed by MRI, this was pretty stressful, although good doctors and physios helped a lot. I am extremely grateful to Peter Eckhardt at Back In Motion Physiotherapists and Miles Callahan, the orthopaedic surgeon, for the quality of their care. Even with confidence in my medical advice, I still couldn’t see the small progress I was making each day, which led part of me to quickly worry that something else was wrong or that things just weren’t getting better. I could see that I had improved from a week ago, but couldn’t really identify an improvement from the day before. Had I stopped making progress? Was my leg worse than anticipated?
Why me?
I also found it difficult to accept the randomness of the injury and how much capacity I would lose. I had set myself some pretty ambitious targets for the next twelve months. I had to quickly accept that most of these goals would likely not be reached. It next became more obvious that many other things I took for granted, such as bushwalking with my dad, were also on hold for a while. And all of this for a freak accident that I could have easily avoided if had been a bit more cautious.
Hyperbolic pessimism
“What if I never run or bushwalk again?” I wondered, slightly melodramatically. I had been assured that would not be the case by physicians I trusted, but late at night when there is no one to talk to, that assurance becomes eroded by the anxious voice inside my head. And once the voice takes hold, more flawed and worrisome cognates follow. What would have been the point of all the hard work I had done getting fit before I was injured? Very quickly, in my head, I had retrospectively changed my purpose for running and sport from enjoyment, health and personal fulfilment to one that was all about results and meaningless numbers. I really had to consciously fight this and remind myself that the work I had done prior to the injury was probably what had saved me from further damage to other parts of my leg and would also hasten my recovery. With deliberate attention to it, I had to reset goals, starting with just being able to just run and then building up from there.
Fatigue
I also wasn’t prepared for just how tiring it is being injured. Due to my level of impairment I wasn't doing a lot of physical activity, but each day was more tiring than I expected as a result of increased levels of anxiety and the fact that everything is more difficult than before. Added to that, the change to routines and worries about the future, along with the physical discomfort of sleeping wearing a leg brace, tend to make sleeping more difficult, so while I found I needed more sleep than I expected, it was often difficult to achieve this.
Independence lost
For the first month, I was unable to put a sock on or do up the shoelaces of my right foot, let alone, drive and do other things I had taken for granted. The lack of mobility and independence was doubly challenging, as it coincided with a high volume of initial medical appointments, as I struggled to get a definitive picture of what was wrong with me. On top of that, basic things like buying and preparing food for one’s self present a whole new challenge. I was lucky enough to be able to stay with my wonderful parents for much of the time I was most restricted, as well as being inundated with offers of help from friends and colleagues. Even with such tremendous support, I still felt the limitations on my freedom of movement and action to be quite frustrating.
So, as I have outlined, an extended recovery period is not easy or much fun. Some of the challenges were predictable to me, but there were also some challenges I had not expected. For all of that, I am getting through it staying fairly positive. If you are facing a similar period to me, I recommend maintaining some optimism. Here are some of the strategies that helped me get through it (I considered making the title of this text, “7 Steps To A Positive Recovery,” but since I don’t write for Buzzfeed, I could see that would be trite).
Getting through it
Keep it in perspective
At time of writing this I am in my mid-thirties and have already lost two of my best friends to things they couldn’t recover from. The inconvenience of not being able to the things I want, the indignity of needing so much help and even the sacrifice of many of my goals and favourite passtimes are small prices to pay for the chance to get better. Because for all my whinging earlier, RECOVERY IS A PRIVILEGE! It means things are getting better. Maybe not as quick as you like and maybe not without setbacks, but they are getting better. Not everyone gets to recover from their lowest points in life. Be glad that you get the chance and have the courage to take it.
Accept help
It also gets a lot easier once you swallow your pride. Most likely there are people out there who are very happy to make your life easier. Some will probably offer their assistance every day, but those who don’t, are often just as happy to help if you are not too proud to ask. There is no honour to be gained in battling to do everything on your own. You have probably been there to help out an injured family member or friend yourself in the past, so you know from your own experience, helping others doesn’t feel like the chore or imposition you have suddenly imagined it has become when others help you. If you have a temporary disability, stop fighting it and start accepting some help. This wasn’t something I was very good at, but whenever I succeeded in doing so, I found life could be a whole lot less difficult than I realised.
Be productive and creative with your time
A recovery time is often a period of restricted activity, but there are often things you can still do. Even being mostly immobilised, it is still possible to resist the pull of mediocrity and do something purposeful that has a value. If you have a time-poor life, you may have begun to neglect certain aspects, but your enforced rest may be a chance to arrest this. Are you learning a language or an instrument? Have you been meaning to write a letter or read a book? One of the reasons I believe I was able to ride out the periods of immobility was I had lots of purposeful things to do, which made me feel like I was still accomplishing things and also meant I was never bored. As tempting as it might seem, spending eight hours of the day playing play station or watching Netflix is not what I would call productive or useful, because at the end of the day you have nothing to show for it other than a headache. You have learnt nothing, achieved nothing, created nothing and had no impact on anyone else; so it is little wonder people begin to feel unfulfilled when these activities become their daily routine.
Take ownership- Carpe Diem!
A bit of bad luck doesn’t have to ruin your life. Most of the time you are the only one who can do that by not making a plan to get over it (of course there are occasions where things are beyond your control, but if you have the opportunity to recover, you have the chance to take control back). So take control of your recovery. Work hard for your recovery. For me, getting my mobility back became a high priority so I never skipped exercises set for me by the physio. If you are trying to let your body recover, give it the best chance possible. Apart from being a depressant, alcohol also inhibits the body’s ability to function at its best, so the decision to cut alcohol completely (had a couple of light beers at my best friend’s wake, but that was the only exception) was an easy one. Sleep is also vital for recovery and I have already mentioned that I found the whole process tiring, so I made sure I took plenty of opportunity to sleep and when I couldn’t sleep I often rested, keeping deliberate control of my thoughts to keep my outlook positive.
Could there even be a positive in the long term?
It also occurred to me that this challenge was a part of life I had not yet experienced and when I had got through it I would have a greater empathy and understanding of others who were going through their own recovery processes. In this way I could almost view my misfortune as a positive, as I could be a more credible and effective friend to others. Something else I realised was that I had for a long time been taking a lot of things for granted as I strove to get fitter and faster. I knew that once I was recovered, I would in fact be happier than before I was injured because I would now place greater value on what I had taken for granted. That was something to look forward to, as I had thought life had been pretty bloody good before.
As well as committing to a really solid recovery, I committed myself early to working really hard to getting my fitness back. I’m actually looking forward to that too. Having achieved a relatively high level of fitness, I have spent much of the last decade only making incremental improvements that have been hard to even observe. While the thought of losing so much fitness is a little disappointing, I know that I am going to improve at a much quicker rate than I am used to, which I expect to be extremely motivating.
Take inspiration from others
I had two great heroes as my inspiration. Thinking of the battles they fought, helped me keep my challenges in perspective and made me determined not to waste precious days of my life wallowing in self-pity. Life is too short; too unpredictable; and too wonderful for that. Remembering the plight of those less fortunate than myself, I actually allowed myself to consider the possibility that the damage could be worse than anticipated and I may never run again. Sure that would be awful, but would life still be worth living? Absolutely. There would still be hundreds of sources of enjoyment, challenge and fulfilment available to me. It wouldn’t take away what I had already achieved and was proud of.
Be thankful
I also found it very helpful reflecting on everything I had to be thankful for. When I thought about it, there was a lot. I had wonderful support from friends, colleagues and family. I had also been fortunate to have achieved a lot in the time before I injured myself, which gave me a lot of belief that I could get through this. I was very impressed with the standard of medical care I received and was thankful for our Medicare system and my private health insurance. And I was thankful for every development I made towards recovery. When the MRI ruled out further damage; when I could sit in a chair with relative comfort again; when I could bend my knee enough to drive; when I could use an exercise bike to combat the continuing muscle wastage and after that being able to remove the leg brace. Every time one of these milestones was passed, I was thankful. I am looking forward to the next step which will be when I can walk without a limp and hopefully soon when I can attempt to run. Along with being thankful internally, I was deliberate in being explicit about my gratitude to others during the time. I felt that the act of giving thanks reinforced my belief that I had plenty to be grateful for.
So that was my experience. Or at least the beginning of it. I have been given a prognosis of six months for full recovery, but then I have to try to get back the fitness I have lost and who knows how long that will take. But I will continue to work towards it with optimism and will continue to record my observations and progress on a separate page. For the dozens of people who have asked me how I am coping, thank you. Hopefully this provides a more detailed answer than I usually have the time to give. To anyone who has recently begun their own recovery process, hopefully something I have said might help you, although I realise everyone will approach things slightly differently.