a week ago today

Can hardly bemoan my fate, since I'm leaving on vacation today and will be back at the coast by Monday...but it's hot as hell in Chico this week. At midnight last night it was still like 85 degrees or something. Or 80 at least. Bloody hot. I'd rather be where I was in this photo. Doing what I was doing, for that matter. So it's nice that more or less I will be, in a fairly short time from now.

a little sleep + a little chain = big difference

Ladies and gentlemen, we have a drivetrain! The bar-end shifters have an indexed or a friction setting, and the index doesn't seem to line up all that well, but in friction mode the derailleur shifts to all nine cogs in the cassette. Translation: it works. I think I'll be able to bring this bike on the trip after all. Left to do:
1. adjust front derailleur (cable still too long, won't shift into largest chainring)
2. adjust brakes
3. attach bottle cages, toe clips, pump, and (oh yeah) a saddle
4. put on fenders and headlight
5. attach rear rack
6. install computer
7. test drive

The brake adjusting can take a little time but all the hard stuff is done. Now it's basically a matter of turning little bolts.

And here are my pretty handlebars (tried to find an angle where it isn't obvious that I messed up one end of them).

deraille[ur]d?

Hmm. Working on the new bike with the idea of taking it on my vacation, realizing that I'm a bit short on time what with it being late Wednesday night and leaving Friday. Concerned that the top little black cog of my derailleur seems to be touching my cassette. I don't think it will work so well if it's doing that. Though the chain isn't on yet [come to think of it, won't work so well without the chain on either]. If I weren't so busy troubling myself about it I'd take a picture so that the problem would be more apparent even to those readers who may not really have a good idea about whatever it was I just said. Maybe putting on the chain will help, at least then the derailleur cogs will be in their right places to know if they're touching things they ought not to be touching.

I may have begun this phase of the project a bit too late. Might need to bring the old bike on the trip instead.

The handlebar tape looks really cool except for where I kind of botched it on one side. First attempt at wrapping handlebars, didn't expect it to be perfect.

On a totally different subject, I went outside on my balcony a few minutes ago and now have about five mosquito bites, basically one or more per appendage. I'd better let the cat back in before they carry him away.

Also not shown...

...are the curious tan lines on my right leg from wearing my knee brace hiking and in the kayak. I was hoping this would happen by the end of the summer. Mission accomplished.

Juniper Lake

Went camping here last weekend.
Climbed Mt. Harkness and turned around. [When you click this link, Mt. Shasta appears in the photo.]

Made new friends. (Well, I didn't catch her name, exactly...but she was such a dear.)



On Saturday night,
watched the sun set behind Mt. Lassen.


Paid attention to detail. (Really, click on that link, I had no idea the picture was that big.)

Not shown: the sky full of stars, or the view from the middle of the lake as I paddled across in the neighbors' kayak (a couple from Marin County who go camping at this lake every year around this time), or those neighbors and their exclamations of delight over the smoked sturgeon and brie with green peppercorns I shared with them, or the beautiful guitar playing and singing of neighbors on the other side of my campsite. Just all around a nice place to live (but for the lack of any kind of modern plumbing) for two days. Far enough up a washboard road from town that I felt quite motivated to eat whatever it was I brought and / or participate in community cooking ventures. On Saturday night I contributed Annie's Shells & Cheddar and a pot of fresh broccoli simmered with garlic, and the kayak neighbors had hotdogs and grilled chicken and chocolate chip cookies. Good deal all-around. Later I went over to play some music with the other neighbors, who seemed not so much the hotdog eating types, but they were adventurous and willing to try the fair trade organic coconut curry chocolate bar I bought at the Co-op. It helps to speak a couple different languages when one goes camping. I speak hotdog, vegetarian, and numerous dialects of chocolate. To name a few.

More bike miles

18.5 miles on Sunday in Folsom on paths of the lovely American River Parkway, and 17.6 this morning up a ratty godforsaken stretch of road that parallels Highway 32 east into the hills above Chico. Humboldt Road. So many potholes and cracks that kids don't even seem to want to spray paint it very much (unlike Honey Run Road, which reads like a yearbook). But I made it to the end where it joins Hwy 32, took this photo, then came down on the highway to avoid serious teeth-clattering. Notice our lovely Sacramento Valley air in the distance. Thought about the itsy-bitsy bits of rubber to which I was commending all my health and well-being as I watched my speedometer climb to 31 mph. I've been down this road before and don't remember it feeling quite as scary as it did. I think there was a headwind that made me feel like I was going faster than I really was. Maybe I'll get some new fresh brakes anyway.

Home by another way

I was up near Mt. Shasta on a little campout with some friends from the football team Saturday night. Sunday morning as I drove away I found myself turning left to head further into the mountains, rather than right to go back to I-5 and head home. State Highway 89 takes you to some amazing places. Stopped at Macarthur-Burney Falls State Park for awhile. It was more than worth the $6.00 to sit on a rock in the pool and be blasted by the wind and mist coming off the falls; it was probably 65 - 70 degrees down there compared to 90 - 95 up top. The water is so deep blue green. Pool is supposedly 18 - 24 feet deep, and [not supposedly] ice cold, so I imagined what it would be like to be in the pool rather than literally trying to find out. No signs that say "no swimming," but people seem naturally deterred from anything much beyond dangling their feet in the water. Which I did. There's just a lot going on in this pool as you can see. It almost looked like a tiny ocean. I noticed that almost everyone hiking back up the short switchback path from the falls was smiling. Something about charged ions and waterfalls? I can't remember...the positive ions make you happy...or something...maybe I've got it backwards. The sun caught individual droplets of the spray and turned the falls into liquid light.

I still wanted a swim so I headed down the road for Lassen and any convenient lake off the main road. Summit Lake was perfect. People there, but not too many. I was wearing my new "bionic" knee brace and I can report that it feels fine in the water. Better than without it, I think.
I swam across the lake (not at the widest point, and it's not a huge lake, but far enough). I floated on my back with my eyes closed (this is something best done in a lake)--the sun was still high in the sky and soaked it all in. No photos of this...couldn't take my cellphone swimming with me...but if you can think of a bright blue lake with happy little clusters of big and little people and their floating devices around the edges (no motor boats), surrounded by pine trees, at about...8,000' or so?, and if you can think of floating in the lake like a big pink waterlily with the sun filling you up, then you don't need a photo anyway.

Boys and their moms

I posted my second bedroom for rent recently. So far two responses have resulted in someone...actually multiple someones...showing up to have a look. Both of them were shy somewhat awkward young college boys, who arrived with mom in tow, or rather mom arrived with them and asked all the relevant questions. Not really many questions beyond the basics so it's hard to say what in the world moms thought about me; I have a feeling I might not be topping their list of preferred housing providers. How old was Anne Bancroft in "The Graduate?" Am I anywhere near that old? Do, do-do-do, do-do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do. Dee, dee-dee-dee, dee-dee, dee dee dee.

Whew. Just checked. Anne B. was at least 36 in that movie and I'm not even 35 yet. Either way, moms, your young sons would be pretty much safe, I'd even watch football and eat pizza with 'em. I think, however, (not to express any preference in violation of state and federal fair housing law) I might like a roommate just a little bit older though, one who maybe left the nest a little earlier than first thing this morning.

Random stuff. Can't think of a title.

Rode my bike about twelve miles yesterday, up to Horseshoe "Lake" to the end of the paved road, then back down through town. The pedaling felt fine. There are a couple very short climbs on this route and I stood up in the pedals for short stints, no problem. The thing that started to not feel so good was twisting my right foot to unclip from my SPDs (for those not familiar, a type of pedal / shoe combination with a binding similar to snow ski bindings. Though I haven't skied in probably ten years so this comparison could be totally inaccurate at this point). My knee is a bit puffy today and I'm wondering if it was the overall effort, or that twisting motion, or the ongoing moving project this morning, or sympathy pains from watching some of the Tour de France stage in the Pyrenees this morning.

C came up to gather up as much of the rest of her belongings as would fit in her little car, and to take Amonke
back to the Big City with her. Whew. I can begin to understand, just a little, what would drive somebody going through a divorce to kidnap their own child(ren). Of our two cats it seemed like Amonke would do better in the city. Kato, he's a bit of a ramblin' man (despite the early curtailing of his manhood). It was very hard to say goodbye but it was the right thing. C and 'Monka will take good care of each other, and we've agreed that either of us can visit the cats whenever we want.

Back in the saddle

I rode my bike to work on Monday. And to physical therapy on Tuesday (and then to work). Had to drive to appointments in another town today that is theoretically accessible by bike if one has a few hours and the legs to devote to it. But I'll ride again tomorrow. Maybe I'll try something easy this weekend, a little 8-mile round trip through the park up to Horseshoe Lake and back.

Also got measured for my brace. It comes in three different models. One is the couch potato model that protects you from throwing your knee out while you're sitting at a desk or using the remote control. Two is the intermediate that allows you to go jogging and make the odd quick cut to the side to avoid stepping in dog poop, or shoot hoops, or play a little tennis. Three. Three is the one I need. [Guess what you can do with three.] The woman taking the measurements said only once has she heard of Three getting damaged (and it has at least a two year warranty or something): man with this brace was bodysurfing in Hawaii and a wave picked him up and threw him into a pile of rocks, denting his brace. But his knee was just fine. You just never know when you might be thrown against a pile of rocks.

The Evils of Peer Pressure

Up here in Westport with some friends and friend's sister's family. Eight-year-old nephew B last night announced, with wry grin, "I want to see Emily try the Bertie Botts," or something to that effect. Referring to some unique jellybeans produced by Jelly Belly on behalf of the Harry Potter empire. Now it may not normally seem like such a throwing down of a gauntlet to challenge someone to jellybean tasting, except that these particular beans came in flavors of Sausage, Earwax, Vomit, Earthworms, Soap, Rotten Egg, Dirt, Boogers, and Black Pepper. As it turns out we all sat around the table (three kids, and three "adults") and passed the box around. Of the five flavors I tried I was able to chew and swallow three; one I had to spit out, and one I chewed once tentatively and then swallowed whole like a pill with a Dr. Pepper chaser. I will say additionally that I did not get around to trying the Earwax, Soap, Black Pepper, or Dirt (I figured dirt would be redundant after the Earthworm anyway.)

I think the point of these ill-favored beans, or a point, is to laugh hilariously at other people's reactions to eating them, and then to be laughed at in turn. It's [s]not like anyone is eating them against his / her will and doesn't therefore deserve to be laughed at when they make a horrible nasty face at the oddly realistic flavor of Earthworms. Not that any of us really know what earthworms taste like, of course. But they can't be all that much worse. Just less sugary.

Right 'round like a record

In honor of the one-month anniversary of my season-ending injury, I attended, and more or less participated in, a spinning class. Most folks probably know, or would be able to guess from the context, that this did not involve the twisting of fine fibers together to make yarn. Or did it? I didn't feel able to do some of the typical activities of a spinning class, i.e. standing up in the saddle repeatedly with high resistance in simulation of pedaling up a steep hill, but I added a little resistance here and there, and managed at least to keep rotating for the whole class. Pedaled hard enough that I couldn't sing all the way through "Sweet Caroline" which, previously unbeknownst to me, is a song to which one can get a workout.* About 45 minutes, I think. Couldn't do some of the stretches, but could do others. By the end my range of motion was significantly improved and the improvement carried over to today. Walking much more evenly, going up and down stairs almost normally if still a bit slowly. This is a big improvement from the weekend when I was still using my cane quite a bit. At physical therapy today it seemed like the therapist had my knee almost fully flexed before my screaming made him stop. [I have a feeling he may not use screaming as his guideline, or he would have stopped sooner.] I'd estimate that in the past week and a half, I've gone from 75-90 degrees of flexion to 45 if I'm flexing it myself and maybe 30 if the PT is torturing me.

* Sidenote: Neil appears to be playing an Ovation guitar in this 1976 video. Characterized by non-traditional soundholes and fiberglass back. Supposed to be great as a plugged-in acoustic, also the guitar preferred by Melissa Etheridge. Who knew.

Hamstring harvesting

Doesn't sound that appealing? My doc thinks it's the way to go. He says the cadaver grafts are popular in the Bay Area but he's not very keen on them, says the joint may be more likely to react (this is the kind of thing where 'reaction' is generally synonymous with 'bad reaction,' I imagine), says cadaver grafts have been heavily marketed (because the procedure is more expensive?) and it's all fun and games until there's a "bad batch" of tissue and the doctor has to call all the patients and say, oops...or whatever the doctor says in that situation. He said the recovery from having a bit of hamstring relocated is not such a big deal. He said the total process from surgery to 100% green light is about six months. He said I need to do physical therapy to get my full range of motion back before the surgery (which confirmed what I'd heard already). I will call the PT's office tomorrow to schedule my first appointment.

He showed me a video about the procedure. I'm going to do some checking on YouTube to see if I can find something like it to link here in the future. I was impressed that when he looked at my MRI images he sounded like he knew what he was looking at..."See, these are your meniscii...they look just fine...there's the posterior cruciate ligament [which I could see]...there's the ACL [which I couldn't really see, maybe if it weren't torn asunder I could have seen it better]?"

I felt like he spent a decent amount of time talking to me and answering my questions about why he doesn't favor the cadaver graft procedure, though I was a little surprised to hear him say, "well it's from a dead guy!" in a tone that sounded like he was kind of grossed out by the idea. Before he looked at my x-rays or the MRI he asked me what happened in some detail, making me feel that my own experience of the event was potentially of some clinical importance, then he looked at the film / MRI images, then we watched the movie. Two small incisions, knee is filled up with water for better viewing, old trashed ACL is snipped out, tissue is "harvested" from hamstring tendon [gotta love that word, "harvesting," in the context of body parts], it is neatly folded in half and sewn together at the ends, holes are drilled in the leg bones and they thread in the new ligament and pin it in place. Oh and of course this all happens while I'm sleeping.

After the movie, he looked at my knee for awhile, bending it this way and that, but not in any ways that hurt, which kind of surprised me. The last time I saw an orthopedist about ten years ago, in an attempt to divine what was causing my knees to go click...click...click with every step when I walk or run sometimes, the doctor seemed to delight in causing discomfort. Oh, does this hurt? Oh, it still hurts when I do the same thing again? How about this time? Still hurts, does it? [All we ever found out was that it hurt when he did that.]

One bit of news I liked was that I can have the surgery AFTER my bike ride down the Oregon coast in September. Should get home from the around the 8th, surgery is tentatively scheduled for the 11th or 13th. Meanwhile I'll be fitted for a sports brace and get going with PT. Feeling a lot more hopeful that the way my knee currently feels is not at all what I'll be stuck with until the surgery.

Hope floats

Haven't used the little condo swimming pool much. It's a tad over-chlorinated and often there are people in there, and I haven't been a much of a socialize-at-the-pool person. However, it is a place I can walk to and it's shallower and warmer (and possibly cleaner thanks to the chlorine) than the big creek pool in the park. Decided to give it a try and see if my knee would allow for swimming right now. I have been depressed by my sudden new lack of exercise since "the Pop." And, even though I hadn't yet quite mastered the art and science of tackling, the idea that I will have to wait almost a year before I can have another (legal, consensual) try at knocking the snot out of somebody is also depressing.

Anyway, got in our pool and immediately realized that this injury could be, oddly, the best thing that ever happened for my triathlon. Not that I've quite decided to be happy about it, but I see that it could have some benefit. I can't even cheat with a frog kick right now which is what I always do if I'm feeling lazy or tired. Flutter kick is the only motion both legs can accommodate. I can dolphin kick a little bit if squeeze my knees together and use the left leg to stabilize the right. And there ain't nothin' wrong with my arms. I didn't stay in very long, but it felt SO good, I cried with my goggles on. [Somewhat defeats the purpose of goggles.] I wonder if there is some sort of amphibious brace I could wear. Maybe a neoprene wrap would help. I need a little bit of motion control...a couple times my leg went in a direction that made kind of unpleasant clicking and grinding noises in my knee.

I will see Dr. Komas in 6 days. Since the last post he has received high praise from people I've talked to who have seen him. That's a relief. Talking with teammates who have had ACL reconstruction, it looks like I might be getting a piece of somebody's achilles tendon in my knee. Somebody who didn't need it any more. Maybe in the Illiad when mighty [and sulky] Achilles met his downfall with the shot to his heel, it's not so much that he actually, literally died, he was just so bummed out by not being able to fight the Trojans any more that he wasted away on the couch. If he'd had a swimming pool in his campground and a good orthopedic surgeon the story would have been much different.

is he out of his mind?

Here are some pictures of torn ACLs that are a little easier to follow than my real images were.

Made an appointment with an orthopedic / sports medicine doc today (who is in my PPO network, unlike the one to whom Immediate Care referred me). A little worried that I don't know anything about him, and a lot frustrated that the earliest appointment was two weeks away. The receptionist told me he couldn't give me any advice about what I should / shouldn't be doing until he sees me. In two weeks. Why don't I call the doctor at Immediate Care and ask him, she suggested. Oh yeah, that guy who thought I just had a sprain. For lack of other options I called him (thinking maybe he can suggest some good exercises, etc.) and his well-thought-out advice was "I see you have a complete tear. Wear the immobilizer and use crutches and don't put any weight on it." You've got to be kidding me. I live AND work on the second floors of buildings without elevators for one thing. I was feeling proud of how much better I'm climbing stairs today. OK, it was the most conservative possible advice, but it was dumb. I'll be careful, but I haven't read anything that says you can't walk around just fine with a torn ACL. Two weeks of the "immobilizer" is B.S. I think if it were necessary our team doctor (an orthopedic surgeon) would have said something when I showed up to watch Saturday's game wearing only my ace bandage (in addition to other clothing appropriate for the situation). He read my MRI report and said, "Oh, it's just the ACL. The MCL issue can be treated non-operatively. ACLs must be to him something akin to what 30-day termination of tenancy notices are to me. Our coach who is a physical therapist (and who previously tore her ACL playing football) noticed I was holding my cane in the wrong hand and showed me the correct way to do it. (Bellabell's comment on the last post hinted that it isn't completely intuitive--I didn't realize I was doing it wrong.)

Maybe I'll ride my bike to the appointment in two weeks to protest how long it took to get the appointment. If I can find a suitable hinged brace, Mom.

Magnetic resonance

I can identify some of the structures in these images but I wouldn't have been able to look at them and say ah, yes,

complete tear anterior cruciate ligament. Associated bone bruise lateral femoral condyle and posterior lateral tibial plateau. Menisci intact [Yay, that's good, right? Intact menisci are the best kind]. Soft tissue edematous changes in association with large knee effusion. There may be a partial tear of the medial collateral ligament.

There were numerous other pictures. This series was the "sagittal proton density fat suppressed" scan. All the findings in the report may not be visible in this particular series but it was a bit of work capturing the images. Had to use Virtual PC to read the disk from the MRI office that came with its own special medical industry viewing software...not the JPGs I'm used to working with. Virtual PC runs...very...slowly...on my Mac. So eventually I had the screen with these images open in Virtual PC, I took a "picture" of the screen (not with a camera--it's a feature of Virtual PC of which I now see the usefulness), got it back on to my regular Mac OS desktop, opened Adobe Photoshop, changed it into a JPG file, and voilà!

One o' these things is not like the other...

Yes, I know far, far worse things have happened / are happening in the world. I listened to NPR on the way home from work tonight re: armor piercing explosives and unfriendly Iraqi police. A man in an electric wheelchair scooted by as I hobbled across the street to an ATM. So I have asymmetrical knees right now. No big whoop. At least there's two of 'em. Still, I'm managing to feel terribly inconvenienced by it all. Perhaps I took unrestrained mobility a tiny bit for granted.

The [mostly] walking wounded

I wish there were some exciting visuals to go with this post. I wonder if there's some way to get a color copy of my right knee MRI when it's done sometime this week...be it normal or...Abby Normal. I took a hit in the Santa Rosa game yesterday at the start of the 3rd quarter (we were kicking off, I was running down to meet the ball carrier and somebody else met me first). Can't wait to see the game film because I don't really know what happened with my knee, felt like it buckled or did something untoward, then when I stood up again it felt like it popped back into the right place. Or that it popped somewhere. Tried to walk it off. Played a couple more plays and we were back on offense, I think, and I was lined up in my left side tight end spot and got knocked down in the crowd, was trying to stand up again and somebody told me to sit down and rest for a minute. Come to think of it, that seemed like not a bad idea, so I did. Then our team doctor came over and helped me walk off the field. Wiggled right knee this way & that way and compared it to the left knee, and thought the sore unstable one was too wiggly. Didn't hurt all that much. I'd always thought if I tore something it would really smart. Dr. Dotson said if it was a torn ACL (which he thought it might be but hoped he was wrong) it would likely swell up like a grapefruit by the next morning so he wrapped it and I popped a few "vitamin I" (thanks J.M. for introducing me to that term), iced it for the rest of the game and off and on throughout the evening. Woke up this morning and it didn't seem swollen at all, but as the day has progressed it's looking fatter. The doctor at the clinic back home here in Chico didn't think it was all that wiggly; he thought maybe it's just sprained. Wrote Diagnosis: Sprained Knee on my chart so it must be true. MRI Tuesday. Either way it looks like I won't be playing next week. Crap.

I went to Rite Aid and got a cane. Nothing fancy or hand-crafted but more befitting my...je ne sais quoi...than crutches.

Oh. The other thing I've not been mentioning here. It's not the elephant in the room so much as the whole house. C is hunting for apartments in SF, having secured employment there. Please think good thoughts and / or prayers, as you are inclined, for her successful housing hunt and peace of mind. And save a few for Lefty too. It's a hard change.

stole a game pic from blog o' my sis

M.A. snapped this one in Seattle of me and Dante, one of my heroes. You should see this woman take down people two...or three...or four?...times her size. She's a human cannonball. Because when she gets there, she doesn't pause and reflect, and if the ball carriers she homes in on want to go anywhere, they have to take her with them. When I grow up I want to be like that.

Whupped

My strategy to psyche out Seattle by wearing my "Mount St. Helens" baseball hat in the parking lot before the game was of limited effect (though who knows, maybe that one time their kicker missed her point after attempt, she was thinking about my Mount St. Helens hat). We were beaten pretty badly and it seems like the beating started before the game did. Word on the street was that the Seattle team was all that & a bag of chips. As if I needed to be more intimidated than I would have been anyway. Last year in the Seattle game one of our players broke her leg. I was thinking about that too, i.e. 'here we go against a gang of leg-breakers.'

The ways in which we need to and can realistically improve are becoming more clear. It's not for lack of strength or speed that we lost that badly. I think we had trouble holding it together under game pressure. We've still been lacking in full scrimmage opportunities (Saturday's game was full scrimmage #2, the game two weeks ago was #1). This has got to change--I was still hesitant, especially for my first few plays on defense, about the whole crash-into-people-at-full-speed concept though I DID have a really good crash in the game that resulted in stopping my opponent's forward progress (even though it knocked me back a bit), and I tell you what, Spongebob Squarepants himself couldn't have soaked up the resulting praise and congratulations from my teammates better than I did.

Plus, look how mean I looked before the game. I am making progress. I was scared pretty much the entire 60 minutes. I have new-found appreciation for the people who played not only both ways but on special teams kickoff return too. I thought physically I could handle going both ways but I didn't figure on how mentally challenging it would be to stay out there from receiver to cornerback, and I had the luxury of not being on the kickoff return team on top of that. Several of my warrior companions just played right on through the whole damn game, both ways and Sundays. My helmet's off to you. I'm actually looking forward to seeing the film of the game and comparing it to the first film. I spent more time down on the turf this time; while that isn't in itself the ultimate goal I think it's another sign of progress.

One other big high point was having my travelin' sis M.A. and a couple of her Seattle buddies at the game who were willing to root for the visitors. Thanks M.A. et al for your enthusiasm & good cheer. [TSBD!]