Well, the verdict is in. And, yes, I am Osteopenic. For those of you non-medi people out there, that means low bone density. Doesn't mean I'm unhealthy, of course. Because everyone is at risk of medical problems. I just didn't realize I was particularly at risk for this one. I feel a little silly, of course, being a doc and all. But, then again, I'm not a Sports Med doc either. A lesson learned. And maybe I can ed-u-ma-cate others through all of this.
I've always prided myself on being in good physical fitness. In most recent years, if I must say so myself, I've been in pretty tip-top shape. Between marathons or hours of riding, I am an excerise fanatic. No flabby here. (Although, for all of you females out there, I still suffer from the same flashes of feeling "fat".) Even with no exercise for 2 months, I haven't really gained much weight, although I have lost muscle mass, whatever that is worth. But Matt is haggling me to get on the rehab road, so this week, I've gotten the bug back.
So, what makes me at risk? Well, for one, Cycling. As I've blogged before, 63% of cyclists are osteopenic. That includes men and women. At least part of this is from the lack of weight bearing exercise. Obviously my 1 (or occasionally 2 to 3) days of running every week didn't cut it. (Oh for the days of 30-50 mile running weeks.) The other is what is called the "Female Athlete Triad". Including, low estrogen, low bone density, and energy low diet. Women who exercise a lot, tend to turn normal body cycles off which leads to low estrogen. That can have it's benefits, but... (you'll probably understand this if you are a woman). They also tend to be very food conscious - low fat diet all the way, baby! Both of these (estrogen and diet) factor into low body fat. Did you know that for a female althete, body fat content is considered to be less than 17%? Well, the last time I was checked, I was in the 13% range. Flabby, nope. But so unfair, since some male athletes get to 2-3%, and they don't have such troubles. And of course, the 2 former tendencies, can lead to lower bone-forming abilities. Further, most "younger" women, don't think of taking calcium supplementation PLUS Vitamin D; that's for old women, right?
Well, this is my plug for all of you female athletes out there. (And men too: it can't hurt.) Take your Calcium: at least 500 mg/day, and 1000 mg is even better. And definitely take your Vitamin D: 800-1000 mg/day for good measure (even if you do get sun exposure).
So, mystery solved: low bone density increases your risk of fracture. So if you crash, you break, and in my case, you break into many pieces. Lessoned learned and healing is in process.
Thursday, September 30
Wednesday, September 22
To Tan or Not To Tan
Actually, in my case, that should maybe read: "To Burn." But whatever. Well past my childhood, I was determined to lay out enough to get tan. It took me years to figure out that this was not to be. I have 2 colors: transparent white and lobster red. I well remember one of my first burns when I was maybe 8 or 9 (it may not be one of the first, but definitely one of the worst). We went to Florida as a family, and I got FRIED. I remember sitting in a bathtub of oatmeal, trying to feel better. There was also the aloe treatments and apple cidar vinegar -- Yes, that's right, vinegar. Even into Med School, Carolyn and I would spend hours by the pool studying for our classes -- especially 2nd year. In fact, I probably spent more time doing that, than actually in class (i.e. I skipped a lot of class my 2nd year). All of that to produce, a very red "tan" and possibly later: skin cancer.
Well, in more recent years, I have been fastidious about using sunscreen. This year, it was pretty much all 30 and above. But alas, this may all be part of my problem. Over less than 3 years, I broke: ribs, a toe, ribs again, collarbone (shattered = surgery and hardware), and then my femur (shattered = more surgery and more hardware). Is there a problem, doctor? Turns out my Vitamin D is low. This is the preliminary report. Vitamin D helps with bone growth and strength. My x-ray 2 weeks ago showed only minimal bone growth and a still unstable fracture, after 6 weeks! Next week, I have a bone density test, so this will be the tell all test. Now, I really feel old. Not only did I break my femur in a place in which traditionally is found when old people break their "hip", but now I get to have a test that traditionally is reserved for older ladies above 60 years of age! So what does this have to do with sunscreen? Well, it blocks your body's natural ability to make Vitamin D.
What's more, after about mid-2005, most of my exercise has been non-weightbearing. I pretty much stopped running (or ran minimally) and started cycling. One study has shown that 63% of cyclists (yes, those younger than 60 y/o) have osteopenia (low bone density). So if you cycle and fall and have low bone density, beware! Other things that can contribute: alcohol and caffeine consumption. Darn! I love my coffee and wine.
So, all you cyclists out there, take your Calcium and Vitamin D! If I've learned anything through all of this, it is to do just that. And do some weightbearing exercise too, while you are at it.
Well, in more recent years, I have been fastidious about using sunscreen. This year, it was pretty much all 30 and above. But alas, this may all be part of my problem. Over less than 3 years, I broke: ribs, a toe, ribs again, collarbone (shattered = surgery and hardware), and then my femur (shattered = more surgery and more hardware). Is there a problem, doctor? Turns out my Vitamin D is low. This is the preliminary report. Vitamin D helps with bone growth and strength. My x-ray 2 weeks ago showed only minimal bone growth and a still unstable fracture, after 6 weeks! Next week, I have a bone density test, so this will be the tell all test. Now, I really feel old. Not only did I break my femur in a place in which traditionally is found when old people break their "hip", but now I get to have a test that traditionally is reserved for older ladies above 60 years of age! So what does this have to do with sunscreen? Well, it blocks your body's natural ability to make Vitamin D.
What's more, after about mid-2005, most of my exercise has been non-weightbearing. I pretty much stopped running (or ran minimally) and started cycling. One study has shown that 63% of cyclists (yes, those younger than 60 y/o) have osteopenia (low bone density). So if you cycle and fall and have low bone density, beware! Other things that can contribute: alcohol and caffeine consumption. Darn! I love my coffee and wine.
So, all you cyclists out there, take your Calcium and Vitamin D! If I've learned anything through all of this, it is to do just that. And do some weightbearing exercise too, while you are at it.
Tuesday, September 14
Insomnia?
Wouldn't you think that "insomnia" means that you are sleeping? "Somnia" equals sleep in Latin. So shouldn't it be "in"-"sleep"? But apparently in Latin, "in" means "not". How does that make sense? But the Latin meaning is pretty much what I've been experiencing lately. "Not sleep." At the beginning of all of this broken leg stuff, I had these little things:
A little of this every 6 hours, a little of that every alternating 6 hours. Some of that other thing every 8 hours. Not to mention all those vitamins and minerals. Phew! I had a virtual pharmacy in my bedroom. No wonder I was sleeping well! Maybe I slept too much those first weeks... now that I don't have those little wonder pills, I have to do it all on my on. My body is paying me back for all of the abuse and is making up for it. So if you ever want to know what 3 a.m. is like, I got the down-low on that one.
Friday, September 3
On the verge...
You'd think these days that I'd be blogging like crazy. Instead I'm experiencing another form of crazy. Blogging requires something to blog about. For me, I get these ideas from things I see, do, or hear about as I go through my day. These days, though, this is my usual view:
And this is my usual mode of transportation:
And this is where I hang out all day, every day, those endlessssss hours:
It doesn't give me much to blog about; that is, unless, you want to hear about the latest news from "Good Morning America" (which, by the way, there's not a whole lot of news after 8:30 am, the time when I usually start watching), or the mundane humor from "Live! With Regis and Kelly", or the latest, supposedly, controversial gossip from "The View." I'm hoping to get a phone call from Regis one of these days, and maybe I can win a trip to a resort in the Caribbean by answering a question about yesterday's show, since I'm up to date and all. Can I get across the sand with a walker? There's only so much you can surf the web, only so long you can read books, and only so many movies one can watch before the craziness sets in. So if I end up in the mad house, you'll know why...
And this is my usual mode of transportation:
And this is where I hang out all day, every day, those endlessssss hours:
It doesn't give me much to blog about; that is, unless, you want to hear about the latest news from "Good Morning America" (which, by the way, there's not a whole lot of news after 8:30 am, the time when I usually start watching), or the mundane humor from "Live! With Regis and Kelly", or the latest, supposedly, controversial gossip from "The View." I'm hoping to get a phone call from Regis one of these days, and maybe I can win a trip to a resort in the Caribbean by answering a question about yesterday's show, since I'm up to date and all. Can I get across the sand with a walker? There's only so much you can surf the web, only so long you can read books, and only so many movies one can watch before the craziness sets in. So if I end up in the mad house, you'll know why...
Thursday, August 26
Flying the Unfriendly Skies
Airline travel used to be fun and exciting. I vaguely remember my first time flying; it was to Michigan with my mom when I was a toddler to see my Grandfather who was sick. All the little houses and cars that looked like ants. My next flying experience was when I was 16 and flew to Colorado for the Young Life Convention in Estes Park. Now I find it hard to believe that I experienced any sort of anticipation at getting on an airplane. After years of flying, countless flights between California and Michigan, and numerous long overseas flights for still exciting international travel, I experience more of a sense of extreme dread when it comes to an upcoming flight.
They say that all the changes the airlines have been making in the last couple of years, are to keep costs down in the face of looming jet fuel prices. Why then has the cost of my flights between Ontario and Grand Rapids tripled. Why I ask? Why? I always flew Northwest more than any other airline. My big brother used to call it "North-worst". But not so with my experience. I would fly through Minneapolis, home of the Mall of America, and spend my layovers smelling lotions at The Body Shop. I was a Northwest Frequent Flier member. I could walk through the "elite" line and bypass the poor suckers not smart enough to sign up for the free card. A few times I was even upgraded to First Class. Whoo hoo! And, most recently, I didn't have to pay for my baggage. But all of that is gone. Now Delta has taken over. Now I get to fly all the way over and east to Atlanta, before my next long flight to Grand Rapids (now does that make sense?). I pay for my baggage like everyone else. Long lines, late flights, and surly flight attendants is the norm. And upgrades? What's that?
Every time I fly lately, I say it was my worst experience ever. Could it possibly get worse? Here was my latest round trip:
I planned a timely red eye flight, leaving at 1:30am, in order to arrive Saturday morning in time for my nephew's 1st birthday. I envisioned an overnight flight with restful Ambien induced dreams. I should have known it was all downhill from the moment I arrived at the airport. As I walked up the empty Delta counter (except for the 3 check-in desk attendants) the thought went through my head of "How is this possible?" Silly me. I did my computer check in duty and then walked to the desk only to be asked "First class?" Nope, definitely not me. And as the lady gave me an exasperated frown: "You're on the wrong side." Only to realized that "hidden" behind the next wall was a very long line of disgruntled passengers with a mere 1 check-in attendant for them all. Thank you to the obnoxious guy near the front, who asked nearly everyone, including the cleaning guy, why there weren't more people to help.
25 dollars later for my baggage (and minus my water bottle, of course), I finally made it up to the gate. I sat down and waited for boarding. And waited. And waited. A little information sure would be helpful, oh airline gods. Apparently, a mechanical problem. Another plane was needed -- couldn't they have figured this out while the plane was sitting on the tarmac for 2 hours?
Ok, so we left "only" an hour and a half late. But of course, my layover was only 1:15 long in Nashville. We made up some time on the flight which involved only restless Ambien induced sleep. I ran to my next gate (literally), making it there just before the scheduled time, but the door was already closed. REALLY? Could they not have held the plane for a few minutes? So I spent the next 30 minutes trying to find Delta Customer Service which was "over there" according to the quite crabby gate attendant. Of course, there wasn't another available direct flight so I had to wait for a flight to Detroit, from which I could catch a flight to Grand Rapids (which was also ultimately late leaving from Detroit, by the way). Well Delta, I snatched one of your germ infested blankets to keep me warm in the airport while I snuggled up on one of your crappy waiting room chairs, so take that!
They say that all the changes the airlines have been making in the last couple of years, are to keep costs down in the face of looming jet fuel prices. Why then has the cost of my flights between Ontario and Grand Rapids tripled. Why I ask? Why? I always flew Northwest more than any other airline. My big brother used to call it "North-worst". But not so with my experience. I would fly through Minneapolis, home of the Mall of America, and spend my layovers smelling lotions at The Body Shop. I was a Northwest Frequent Flier member. I could walk through the "elite" line and bypass the poor suckers not smart enough to sign up for the free card. A few times I was even upgraded to First Class. Whoo hoo! And, most recently, I didn't have to pay for my baggage. But all of that is gone. Now Delta has taken over. Now I get to fly all the way over and east to Atlanta, before my next long flight to Grand Rapids (now does that make sense?). I pay for my baggage like everyone else. Long lines, late flights, and surly flight attendants is the norm. And upgrades? What's that?
Every time I fly lately, I say it was my worst experience ever. Could it possibly get worse? Here was my latest round trip:
I planned a timely red eye flight, leaving at 1:30am, in order to arrive Saturday morning in time for my nephew's 1st birthday. I envisioned an overnight flight with restful Ambien induced dreams. I should have known it was all downhill from the moment I arrived at the airport. As I walked up the empty Delta counter (except for the 3 check-in desk attendants) the thought went through my head of "How is this possible?" Silly me. I did my computer check in duty and then walked to the desk only to be asked "First class?" Nope, definitely not me. And as the lady gave me an exasperated frown: "You're on the wrong side." Only to realized that "hidden" behind the next wall was a very long line of disgruntled passengers with a mere 1 check-in attendant for them all. Thank you to the obnoxious guy near the front, who asked nearly everyone, including the cleaning guy, why there weren't more people to help.
25 dollars later for my baggage (and minus my water bottle, of course), I finally made it up to the gate. I sat down and waited for boarding. And waited. And waited. A little information sure would be helpful, oh airline gods. Apparently, a mechanical problem. Another plane was needed -- couldn't they have figured this out while the plane was sitting on the tarmac for 2 hours?
Ok, so we left "only" an hour and a half late. But of course, my layover was only 1:15 long in Nashville. We made up some time on the flight which involved only restless Ambien induced sleep. I ran to my next gate (literally), making it there just before the scheduled time, but the door was already closed. REALLY? Could they not have held the plane for a few minutes? So I spent the next 30 minutes trying to find Delta Customer Service which was "over there" according to the quite crabby gate attendant. Of course, there wasn't another available direct flight so I had to wait for a flight to Detroit, from which I could catch a flight to Grand Rapids (which was also ultimately late leaving from Detroit, by the way). Well Delta, I snatched one of your germ infested blankets to keep me warm in the airport while I snuggled up on one of your crappy waiting room chairs, so take that!
5 hours late and without my suitcase, I caught the very end of the 1st birthday party only because they waited for me to have cake (sorry Uncle Ben who had to leave before cake because they waited so long!). I was minus a gift (bad aunt!) because I was going to get one before the party. But I got to see this. Apparently, Levi likes to eat.
And sorry to my family who had to endure me wearing the same clothes, including underwear (too much info I know) for over 24 hours, even after a shower.
Well, you'd think it couldn't get worse. But I didn't fare any better on my flight back. With my two layovers, leaving late from O'Hare (no surprise there, it is O'Hare afterall), missing my next flight in Houston (partly because of the late flight and partly because it takes an eternity to go from one terminal to another, plus I had to check in with Continental and go through security AGAIN -- but a plus: my suitcase made my original flight though), and finally getting into LAX at midnight, still needing to take the shuttle to the garage for my car and drive home to Redlands.
And the airlines wonder why their satisfaction rates are down. Go figure.
Monday, August 16
This isn't the first time...
Friday, August 6
For now, no flip flops
Matt beat me to the blogging punch by writing about our latest adventure. Unfortunately, adventure sounds rather romantic, making it the wrong word to use, because it wasn't even close. He said that he'd let me blog about my version of the story, but his is rather accurate, so I'll spare you a repeat of the unfortunate details. But, can I tell you that having the biggest long bone in your body (that's the femur) broken in two (or in my case 7) does not feel good when it is moved? The pain goes beyond description, and even though I have never experienced it, I am quite sure it is worse than labor. And since the emergency peeps had to carry me out, there was definitely a lot of movement. And while I had the displeasure of experiencing the pain (which when all was said and done still hurt like hell after 30 mg of morphine), Matt got to experience my screams of pain which I'm quite sure were not pretty to listen to. Thank you so much to my man for keeping calm, getting help, and providing what comfort was possible during those hours which seemed like an eternity.
After the accident, I got to spend 4 days in the hospital. Much to my relief, I was transferred to Kaiser from Loma Linda, in the middle of the first night. My frantic call to my orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Sean, at 1 am, expedited my transfer. At LLU ER, I feared that every doc that came to my bedside was an overeager intern, ready to slice me open on the spot. Of note: yes, I do have a personal orthopod who has placed extra metal in my body on two separate occasions now. Everyone jokes that I am becoming the bionic woman; my question is, will that rod beep when I go through the airport security? Most disturbing of my hospital stay? Little old ladies were passing me when making hall rounds with our walkers. There is definitely something wrong with that.
I was able to come home on Monday night. Matt and I discovered that stairs were out of the question -- no lifting, supportive efforts, or walkers could help me traverse, without severe pain, the meer 3 stairs between bathroom/bedroom and living room/kitchen. So I chose the lesser of the two evils, where rest and bed (which is about all I can do anyway) and easy access to my bathroom are available. So now, I have to rely on others to bring me food (and somehow I didn't relish the thought of using a commode anyway).
This morning, Dr. Sean did nothing to shed hope on how long this situation will last. Non (or bare minimum) weightbearing for the first 8-12 weeks and crutches or a walker for at least 3 months. Some may relish the excuse to become sedentary and fat, but not me.
So, thank you to all of my wonderful caregivers. From the docs, nurses, and other hospital and emergency personnel who rescued me, answered my questions and my call light, and gave me those fabulous drugs. To my dear friends and family who have sat at my bedside, kept me company, called, texted, emailed and facebooked, cooked, cleaned and helped me out in too many numerous ways to mention. An extra special thank you to Matt for doing all of the above, and for staying by my side, caring about and for me, and for loving me. There is nothing I can say that can express how glad I am that you are in my life.
After the accident, I got to spend 4 days in the hospital. Much to my relief, I was transferred to Kaiser from Loma Linda, in the middle of the first night. My frantic call to my orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Sean, at 1 am, expedited my transfer. At LLU ER, I feared that every doc that came to my bedside was an overeager intern, ready to slice me open on the spot. Of note: yes, I do have a personal orthopod who has placed extra metal in my body on two separate occasions now. Everyone jokes that I am becoming the bionic woman; my question is, will that rod beep when I go through the airport security? Most disturbing of my hospital stay? Little old ladies were passing me when making hall rounds with our walkers. There is definitely something wrong with that.
I was able to come home on Monday night. Matt and I discovered that stairs were out of the question -- no lifting, supportive efforts, or walkers could help me traverse, without severe pain, the meer 3 stairs between bathroom/bedroom and living room/kitchen. So I chose the lesser of the two evils, where rest and bed (which is about all I can do anyway) and easy access to my bathroom are available. So now, I have to rely on others to bring me food (and somehow I didn't relish the thought of using a commode anyway).
This morning, Dr. Sean did nothing to shed hope on how long this situation will last. Non (or bare minimum) weightbearing for the first 8-12 weeks and crutches or a walker for at least 3 months. Some may relish the excuse to become sedentary and fat, but not me.
So, thank you to all of my wonderful caregivers. From the docs, nurses, and other hospital and emergency personnel who rescued me, answered my questions and my call light, and gave me those fabulous drugs. To my dear friends and family who have sat at my bedside, kept me company, called, texted, emailed and facebooked, cooked, cleaned and helped me out in too many numerous ways to mention. An extra special thank you to Matt for doing all of the above, and for staying by my side, caring about and for me, and for loving me. There is nothing I can say that can express how glad I am that you are in my life.
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