Wednesday, December 31, 2008

My North Carolina Trip

(I know this post seems really long, but if you hang in there, it gets better, and there are lots of pictures!)

Earlier this month, I was supposed to run the Thunder Road Marathon in Charlotte, North Carolina. My daughter was going with me, and it was supposed to be my 27th marathon. I had already bought the plane tickets and arranged for an organist substitute.

I would have preferred to run the Outer Banks Marathon earlier in the fall, but the timing worked out better for this one. Also, I have a brother, Holden, in North Carolina, so I could combine it with a visit to see him. (He lives in Lumberton, but is often in Raleigh.)

Now with a stress fracture, I was obviously not going to be able to run the marathon. But I was determined to go to North Carolina anyway. Maybe it could be a trip like normal people have. You don't have to run a marathon every time you travel. I could be a tourist.

On crutches, it would be more difficult. I was going to have to plan activities at places that were handicapped-accessible, and I knew I would have to rent a wheelchair, because there were going to be some distances involved.

I got a tourist book and started planning the trip. Our flight was to Charlotte, but I decided that we'd rent a car and drive 170 miles to Raleigh, and start our tour of North Carolina from there.

There was trouble when we arrived in Charlotte. A bad omen was that there was no wheelchair waiting for me when we landed ~ airlines usually provide that service if you ask. I could not have walked the mile through O'Hare airport to our connecting flight, if there had not been a guy with a wheelchair in Chicago. But the Charlotte airport is not O'Hare, and I managed ok. I sent Audrey to get my suitcase at the baggage claim, and I crutched myself over to the rental car counter, and got a car.

I waited and waited, but Audrey did not meet me with the suitcase. It had never arrived in Charlotte!

When we finally found the United Airlines baggage claim guy, he assured us that my suitcase was on its way. I told him that we were planning to drive to Raleigh, and wondered how long we'd have to wait for my suitcase to arrive. He told us to go ahead to Raleigh ~ he would put my suitcase on the next flight, and someone from the Raleigh airport would deliver it right to my hotel, "maybe tonight."

He seemed so confident about that. Like it was no big deal, they do it every day. So I left for Raleigh without my bag. We already had a full day of activities planned in Raleigh, and it would be good to get there. I hoped that my bag would arrive. Certainly it would be there before we checked out the next day at noon.

I was given an 800 number to call, which was another bad omen. I know 800 numbers are useless. I was uneasy about this, but I called the 800 number immediately when we arrived in Raleigh, to let some guy in India know where we were staying, so that the Raleigh airport people could deliver my luggage to the Ramada Inn. The guy in India told me that my suitcase was en route, and what time it would arrive, but he could not tell me what time it would be delivered to the hotel.

I slept in my clothes, but I did not get much sleep. The bag did not arrive. I called the 800 number again, and got another guy in India. He said my bag had been sent from Charlotte to Raleigh, and that it had arrived even before the flight from Chicago to Charlotte. I found this to be rather implausible. I was beginning to doubt that I would ever see my suitcase again. I made sure the guy in India had my cell phone number, because I didn't feel like waiting at the Ramada all day for a suitcase that would never arrive. The problem was that the cell phone battery was almost dead, and the charger was in the suitcase. I wrote "buy a new charger" on our list of things to do.

We were meeting my brother at the art museum, but first I had to go to the wheelchair rental place, and also to a Rite Aid, to buy some toiletries. (The baggage claim guy in Charlotte had not bothered to give me a toiletry bag, because he was so sure I'd have my bag that evening.)

Finally, something went right. I was not excited about being in a wheelchair, but considered it a necessary evil. At the wheelchair store, they had a scooter-type thing. That would be so much better! You put your knee on this padded platform, and hold onto the handlebars while using your good leg to propel the scooter. It is easier to move around, and you are at eye level with able-bodied people. It kind of felt like a kid's toy at first! I thought, I could even run the marathon, with this thing! (It would only count as a half marathon at most, because I'd only be using one leg. So maybe not.) After a while, it did take a toll on my knee, but the rest of my body much prefered the scooter over the wheelchair. I was like a kid with a toy scooter and a bruised & skinned knee.

I scooted over to the art museum in Raleigh, and toured that with my brother and Audrey. I was so upset about the luggage, and the lack of sleep, and my overall grungy condition, that I can't say I fully appreciated the visit to the museum.

By mid-morning, I was angry that we would have to stay an extra night at the Ramada, because there was no word about the luggage. I called the guy in India and screamed at him. I don't scream very often. The 800 guys are trained to listen to screaming luggageless women, but this guy did not know where my bag was, and I knew it. The poor guy. I almost added "And I'm having lunch with a lawyer today!" Although it was true, I knew it was an empty threat.

The lawyer was my brother's friend, Laura. She told me she could not help me with the luggage, because she is a personal injury lawyer. I argued that I am obviously injured ~ I have a broken leg! She did not agree with my logic (of course, I wouldn't have a leg to stand on!), but it was nice to meet her, anyway, and we had a nice lunch. She is very smart, and a yoga practitioner. She was extremely calm. I needed that to rub off on me.


After the lunch, and a stop at Radio Shack to purchase a new charger for my cell phone, I still did not receive word about my bag. I was not going to spend another night in those clothes! I knew if I didn't take matters into my own hands, I would never get my luggage. All my attempts to speak to a real person who was not in India had failed. We declined Holden & Laura's invitation to attend a Shakespeare play with them that evening, and drove to the Raleigh airport.

After crying and complaining to the United Airlines baggage claim lady, I learned that my suitcase was in another terminal, at U.S. Airways baggage claim. United said that it was U.S. Air's responsibility to call them. U.S.Air said that it was United's responsibility. I said "My phone number is right there on the bag ~ why couldn't someone call ME?" They all said that was not within their responsibility.

I know that there is a lot of luggage that is never "claimed," and it goes to a store where it is sold, along with the contents. When I saw this on T.V. one time, I wondered how there could be so much luggage that is never claimed. Now I am beginning to understand. I never would have gotten my stuff back, if I had not spent the day being persistent.

Sigh. That was the bad part of the trip. The rest of it was more positive, I promise. So if you're still reading, here is the fun part of the trip...

After I got my suitcase, and took a shower and got into clean clothes, I fell asleep by 6:30 pm and woke up at 1 am. We had to leave Raleigh at 4 am, to make up for lost time and do the rest of our trip. We drove to the Outer Banks, and had breakfast at this wonderful little cafe.


In mid-December, a lot of the tourist attractions are closed, but that is a good thing in many ways. There was no traffic, and no crowds, and the prices for hotel rooms were very cheap. We lucked out on the weather ~ it was clear and cool ~ in the 50s, which is balmy, for us!

Our first stop was the Wright Brothers National Monument, where we listened to a talk about the first flight.



We learned a lot about the history of aviation, and the origin of lost luggage. An often overlooked facet of this narrative is that after Orville's famous 12-second flight that day in 1903, his luggage was nowhere to be found!

I tried on a suit to go with my astronaut boot.



With my scooter, I recreated Orville's flight, in the parking lot alongside the original airstrip. I was able to do it in 12 seconds, as well.

After the adventure at Kitty Hawk, we drove up to Corolla. In North Carolina, you have to be careful how you pronounce things ~ it's not like the Toyota, but it's "Co-RALL-a." It's a little town way up north on the Outer Banks, near Virginia. We had scheduled a "Wild Horses Adventure Tour," and we got there a little early, to see some other sights, which were closed.

Here is the lighthouse at Corolla...


...and here is the Wild Horses Museum. It is too bad that it was closed, but on the bright side, it saved us some time!


The Wild Horses Adventure Tour was the centerpiece of our trip. It was AWESOME! It was so much fun, that it deserves its own post, so stay tuned! I'll write about it later!

After the Wild Horses Adventure Tour, we had the most delicious meal at the Outer Banks Brewing Station, and got a very good rate at a hotel right on the beach.

In the morning, we collected seashells and flew kites.


I had to buy a kite with a monkey on it, of course. All of my monkeys have names beginning with "S" and ending with "-ly," so we were thinking this monkey would be named "Soarly," because he would soar through the air.


He turned out to be not so well-behaved, though, and we found out his name was "Swervely." Audrey had to do most of the work in getting this monkey to fly.

Part of the problem was that I did not have him assembled correctly at first. Once we got that figured out, Swervely had a short flight. It lasted longer than Orville's, so I'd say we did pretty well.


The other kite was so easy, it was almost boring.


After the kite-flying capers, we left the Outer Banks. On the way out, we wanted to visit Roanoke Island, where the Lost Colony was last seen. They had a Lindsay Warren Visitor Center, so we went inside to visit with Lindsay Warren. She showed us a video about the Lost Colony.


There were some remnants of a fort, although this was not exactly where the Colony was Lost. They're not sure where that was. It was Really, Really Lost. Even their luggage was lost.

There was also a place called the Elizabethan Gardens, so we visited that, too. Even though it was December, there was a lot of beauty to see. They had one of those electric wheelchairs I've seen in commercials ~ the "Hovaround" ~ and I was able to ride that all through the gardens, like a queen on her throne.

Here is a statue of some rival queen ~



This is the gnarliest tree I've ever seen!


The rose garden still had a few blooms, even in December.






Although we looked and looked, we did not find the Lost Colonists' Lost Luggage. All we found was beauty.

After we had seen enough beauty, we hit the road again, and made our way west across North Carolina. I did buy a souvenir at Fort Raleigh ~ this lighthouse puzzle. I thought I had solved the puzzle, but after I took the picture, I saw that I didn't quite get it. Do you see the parts that don't match up?


Later in the day, after much driving, we arrived at New Bern. It's pronounced "NOO-burn." (Holden says that's how anyone would pronounce it, but I think he's lived there so long he's just used to it. I would've said "Noo BAIRN, because I am corrupted by speaking German. I'd expect most people to say "Noo BURN." After all, you don't say NOO-york, do you?)

I had hoped to see the Fireman's Museum, because my friend Jim is crazy about firefighting stuff. Unfortunately, the museum was closed.

So we went to the Tryon Palace, which was open, but not handicapped-accessible! So we were only able to watch a short film about the place.

After spending the night in Goldsboro, we finally arrived in Lumberton, where my brother lives. We went to his daughter's indoor soccer game.



I now have a lot of video of Nikki running around the soccer court. (Is it called a court?) The camera is focused on her the whole time, whether she is anywhere near the ball or not. Because that is what a kid's soccer game looks like to a parent or an aunt.

Holden and Audrey cooked dinner, and we got to visit with two of his three daughters while we were there.

I had bought him a Kansas City Chiefs shirt, and then found out that he no longer liked the Kansas City Chiefs. But he seemed to really like the shirt anyway. It came with a recipe for pink underwear.


Recipe for Pink Underwear

Ingredients: One new Kansas City Chiefs shirt
One package new white underwear (not included)

Wash in hot enough water until done


After spending the night in Lumberton, we drove on to Charlotte. We spent the day at the Mint Museum. (The building used to be a mint, where they made money, hence the name. Art museums probably do not make a lot of money, so there is always a box for donations, even at the Mint Museum.) I had intended to take us to the Mint Museum of Art, but we got there and discovered it was the Mint Museum of Craft and Design. So we visited that, and then drove across town to the art museum. They were both very nice. I think there is a fine line between art and craft ~ there were pieces in each museum that I thought could go in the other museum!

We got to the airport in plenty of time, and because of bad weather in Chicago, both our flights were delayed. So we got home at three in the morning. Fortunately for United Airlines, my luggage arrived at the same time. I think I would've killed somebody if it hadn't. Probably that guy in India.

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

I am So Dense


When I had my first stress fracture (four years ago), one of the tests that the doctor ordered was a bone density screening. He advised me that my insurance company, Blue Cross, did not like to pay for this test, so I might have to pay for it myself.

I thought it would be a good test to have, so I hoped that the insurance would cover it. Who wouldn't want to know about their bone density? Maybe I had a bone density problem, and maybe that was why I had the stress fracture! Knowing this would help me choose actions that would avoid problems in the future, saving Blue Cross many thousands of dollars.

So I went for the test. And it made me Scared Straight. My bone density was not good. The doctor at the lab said that I was "on the verge of bone loss." But the good news is that this can be reversed somewhat by eating properly and taking calcium supplements.

He also said that I had a "hip axis length" that put me at considerably increased risk for hip fracture. There is nothing I can do about this, but I could take extra measures to keep my bones strong, so that I don't incur any more risk by having low bone density on top of it.


So I became a calcium junkie. I learned that the body has a hard time absorbing all the calcium you try to feed it, so it wouldn't hurt to take extra. Caffeine, especially, can interfere with the absorbtion of calcium. Well, I'm not going to give that up, so add more calcium.

From that day, I have taken 3 calcium pills a day (600 mg each), in addition to my multivitamin. I've been pretty religious about it, too.

I also learned that there is calcium in food ~ go figure! So I started eating real food with calcium and other good stuff in it, rather than the nutrient-poor foodlike substances I had been getting at the drive-thru restaurants. I haven't been quite as religious about that, but most people think I am a healthy eater. At least I eat healthier than I used to.

At the time of my Reformation, I thought "wouldn't it be nice if I could have this test again in a few years, to see if I reversed my bone loss?"

Well, I got my wish! All I had to do was break my leg again, and the doctor sent me for another bone density test, warning me that Blue Cross would not want to pay for it.

Guess what! It worked! My bones are now solidly in the "average" category for my age, and improved since the last exam. Taking calcium and eating right really did help.

I think sometimes we dismiss the importance of eating right, thinking it can't have an effect. So we go along eating our McDonalds and our pizza, and don't bother taking vitamins.

I have heard that strength-building exercise also improves the bones. That is the next thing I need to make a habit of, because I've been dismissing the importance of it. I'm determined to do everything I can to make up for having a long hip axis, so that when I am older, I will not break my hip, and I will save the insurance company so much money!!

Blue Cross needs to send me a thank you note.

Sunday, December 28, 2008

I Got the Boot


I've been AWOL in my posting lately ~ but I've had an excuse. The screaming pain in my right leg led me to a misguided attempt at a solution, which resulted in every runner's worst fear ~ a stress fracture.

This is not my first stress fracture. Four years ago, when I first started running, I got one by overtraining. This one is in the same leg, but I am fairly certain it was caused by trying to run a marathon in a do-it-yourself orthotic. It was desperate, moreso than stupid ~ nothing was working, and it was the only thing I could think of to try.

I ended up running a half marathon instead of a full ~ I could tell at mile 2 that I was not going to make it 26.2 miles. It was at about mile 8 that it started to feel like the sharp, localized pain of a stress fracture, instead of the generalized, twisty pain I had been experiencing due to my biomechanical problem. When it did not get better after a couple of days back home, I knew what it was, and anticipating the doctor's orders, I dug the astronaut boot and the crutches out of the closet, and hobbled over to see him.

"I concur with your diagnosis," the doctor told me, and ordered me to be on crutches for the next month.

I immediately started negotiating with him. Last time, the crutches caused my arms and hands to become numb after two weeks, and I ended up using a wheelchair to save my hands from long-term injury. (Being a musician, I cannot afford to sacrifice my hands!)

I think he could see that a wheelchair would be overkill, so he said the boot and a cane would be ok some of the time. The idea is not to put any weight on it. I negotiated that, too. So he said 10 pounds. I don't know how to measure how much weight is on my leg, so my strategy is just to try to be as good as I can.

I think I've been about 93% compliant. There are times when you just have to put some weight on your leg. I am sure that using a cane and the boot does not make me entirely weightless on one side, even if it is an astronaut boot. I can use crutches (zero weight), but when you use two crutches, you can't carry anything, and there's that aforementioned problem about the hands. You can't really use crutches in the shower. And I am not going to crutch myself across a stage to sit at the piano during a concert!

So I have chosen my sins carefully, and then I've made up for them by lying around on my tush whenever I'm not carrying or showering or under the spotlight.

I'm trying to keep a positive attitude about it. It takes a great deal more time and mental energy to go anywhere or do anything than it used to. Just getting my coffee in the morning is a challenge. I have to have coffee before I can function. I use the two-crutch system to get to the kitchen, because I have to have coffee before I can boot up. Once the coffee is made, there are a couple of ways to get it to the table. My preferred method is the "bucket brigade" ~ my furniture is lined up to pass the bucket of life-saving liquid to where it is urgently needed. I set the cup down, take a step, move the cup to the next surface, take a step, move the cup, etc.

Of course, when people see me ~ even strangers ~ they give me a look of pity, and often ask me how it happened. I pinned my race number to the boot, to help put a positive spin on the story. My usual response is to smile brightly and say "It's a running injury ~ from running marathons!" (and then, sheepishly,) "I'm kinda proud of it." If they insist on frowning and telling me that it's a bad thing, I try to console them, and remind them that it's only temporary, and could be worse.

That's what I say to people. But just between you and me, I have only had a limited amount of positive attitude. Just enough to get me through the day, and then I come home and wallow in self pity. That is why I haven't blogged. My hands are numb. Frankly, this sucks, and I've just had to get my work done, and limp through Christmas, ... I haven't felt like I wanted to go online and blog about it. It has taken this long to get the whining restricted to this one paragraph here. A paragraph which is coming to an end, so that's it for complaining.

I have a lot of fun stuff to blog about ~ I've been saving things up whilst awaiting a break in the activity (I just wish the break didn't have to be in my leg!) ~ Now that I have a week off, and happy thoughts, more or less, I'll be writing a lot of posts.

The first week in January, I go back to the doctor. I assume he is going to take another x-ray, and my mobility in the immediate future will depend on what he sees. If he sees his shadow, it will mean six more weeks of crutches. So I'm hoping for a cloudy day.