Damage Vs. Deterioration

I had a procedure today, a slight one done here at Green Park Hospital on the 3rd floor (the green floor). This floor is unique in that it holds a small Operation Theatre as well as a Labor Room; I, of course, veered right towards the Operation Theatre. There I met OP and his gang, along with Dr. Ashish.

The injection today was stuck strategically at the base of my spine so that I could be graciously placed quasi-upside down to let the cells flow in the direction of my brain. This reverse motion is not much unlike the way our own bodies respond to stimuli. The nervous system has a sort of dual function in that an external point will be felt by the sensory nerves at the extremities and be sent from the accessory nerves to the spinal cord and brain. From there, your brain processes that feeling and reacts by sending a reply of electricity (through the motor nerves) downward to that same location to create the appropriate response.

After it was all over, I was placed in room 305 to rest for 4 hours until I could turn to one side and eventually sit up. This room was small, square, and lacked any translucency to the outside world. Because of this, the room was pitch black without the lights on... which turned into a welcomed discovery to both Graham and myself.

Although I am beginning to love my orange room here on the 1st floor, keeping the windows exposed at all times so that I am always aware of the happenings there on Green Park Extension, it can be a little loud and eternally lit up with business signs and car lights. Therefore, making darkness simply a thing of the past.

With all of that said, Graham and I were both out as the lights as soon as we had this such realization.

Throughout all of this time in deep sleep, I also seemed to produce a fair amount of deep thought as well. One thing that has stuck out in my mind a whole lot this trip so far has been the differences in the patients.

It is fairly obvious that people come from all over the world seeking virtually the same thing out of Dr. Shroff-- to get better. But getting better is something entirely different for each of us. I have figured that there are two very distinct problems that people suffer from that end up here: those with physical damage and those with physical deterioration. To some this may sound like one in the same, but alas, they are quite different indeed.

The patient (like me) that ails from damage engulfs these stem cells as a way to attempt to permanently repair attributes in their bodies that cannot be repaired on their own. Any improvement that this patient regains, will hold with them for as long as they hold on to this world. This is very promising, because if you do the math, this patient has much calculation for improvement.

On the other hand, the patient that suffers from deterioration, like the Lyme Disease patients and the patients with MS and ALS will still see improvement, and it seems like sometimes at a much more rapid pace. However, the truth about a disease or malfunction due to deterioration is that the body will continue to breakdown, regardless of the influx of those little cells. So patients in this category must resort to viewing their bodies like vehicles that will only rely on sufficient amounts of gasoline to continue to thrive. These patients' bodies will continue to falter and the cells will only improve their current status.

In my experience here, I have come to know well many such patients and commend them for such courage, strength, and grace of being. Each of these beautiful people could not be more deserving of a life, poolside, with little umbrella drinks and oiled massages. But for some reason, somewhere along the line, life handed them a tsunami that soiled their surroundings and flattened their insides. How is this fair? How is any of it tolerable?

All that I can say is that much respect and heart go out to those who deal with things far beyond my stretch of knowledge, far beyond what is right and just, and far beyond the tepid woes of modern man.

Second Chances

Now being my second time around here, I feel that I have grown accustomed to many things:

• exact timings don't occur exactly as planned
• all children don't necessarily want to play
• yes, no, and maybe all are recognized visually as the same bobbing head
• pain means that it's working
• eating curried goodies with dirtied hands simply makes you stronger (except maybe for Graham)
• a smile is truly recognized as warmth, nothing more and absolutely nothing less
• traffic jams at 2 a.m.
• the smell incense and the songs of Ganesha in the morning
• elephants on the highway
• rainbow colors in the most unlikely of places
• welcomed pokes of little stem cells twice a day, like clockwork

And now for the things that I probably should be accustomed to by now, but, shamefully, aren't:

• rickshaw drivers with lead feet
• babies that don't know how to cry
• feeling like I could have tried harder than I did
• the weather
• the anticipation of things to come (this should be encouraging, and mostly is, yet it is still not something that I can get used to)
• literal understanding of bad cliches and poorly sarcastic remarks
• knowing that I am successful, no matter what

When I was greeted today with a familiar face of a patient I met only a few 4 short months ago, he remarked, "Wow, I didn't expect to see YOU back here!" Although I am not quite sure what that comment was supposed to invoke in me, it left me with a definite linger of something. If it hadn't, I wouldn't be sitting here 8 hours later fitting it into a blog that had no prior purpose nor appointment.

I suppose that some might say that from my attitude of not necessarily wanting to put full faith into this project and questioning even the most apparent of signs when I started it, that maybe, ya, it is strange for me to dive back in... but what you may not know is that I am a fighter, a fighter that is true to her soul.

I may outwardly behave as the skeptic, or the stoic, who may not recognize a true miracle when it hits her smack dab in the spinal cord... or better yet, may be confused by one. I think that it comes down to the fear of potential disappointment, or even scarier, potential realization that sometimes it isn't totally up to me.

Yes, it was, in fact, my choice to venture out on this very wobbly and extended limb-- but hey, wouldn't you? There is a far reaching sense of opportunity and fear, and with it comes the equally penetrating sense that I can't control every outcome. And somehow, all of this unease makes a powerful sentiment into my life.

What I do know is that I have to take risks sometimes in attempt to find what I might not have known I had been seeking all along. Again, on the outside, I may not show that I am in search of anything, especially on my own accord... but yet my eyes remain open to the most tumultuous of advances.

So to answer his statement, although realizing that it was not so much a question to be answered: I may have known it all along or I may have feared its return, but either way, I am here (and here NOW) and that should say enough for eternity.

A Lazy Sunday Afternoon

Being Sunday and all, our only "free day" and a break from Physio and any major happenings, Graham and I had big plans to make it up to Old Delhi today. Old Delhi is a place that I haven't yet ventured, full of even more crowds and culture and everything so delightful to me. We were going to discover the Red Fort, one of Delhi's oldest and LARGEST tourist attractions. It used to be a palace during the times of the Moghuls and now is a site that surrounds the hustle and bustle of everyday modern Indian life.

The problem, however, was that Graham's stomach is apparently not as strong as mine. HA! Actually, I feel rather empathetic towards his digestive tract. I will spare you the details, except for saying that the only venturing out he has done today is to that porceline Krishna that I've grown to love as a shower bench.

We've traded positions for today: I am the caregiver and he is the patient (and a whiny and sleepy one at that).

Anyways, this unplanned for time in our room has given me the chance to put together a bit of a scrappy video of some of the events that played out yesterday. I wanted to make a video because words cannot ever describe all of the magic and spirit that carried through the air yesterday. I hope you enjoy!

A Very Delhi Christmas

I invite you all to experience my Christmas in Delhi. It was an extremely colorful one filled with laughs and good cheer, boxed up Italian take-out, and new friends here over at the Green Park Hospital.

They decorated, complete, with a life-sized version of Santa Claus, a stellar faux pine dressed to the max, a cow of many colors trotting down the street, tulle of shimmery pink and purple hung from the ceiling, and balloons that just so happened to remind us that Indians can celebrate Christmas as good (if not better) than the rest of us.

It was good to spend Christmas with my friends here in Delhi, although I miss my time at home as well. A few of the patients and us talked well into the night, comparing our past Christmasses and families together. All in all, a very nice job well done for the quite unorthodox holiday in this far-off land.

Opened Doors

I knew things were going to be different this trip, but I had no way of anticipating the difference in the procedures as well. The procedure that I had yesterday was an epidural injection, which I endured for the first time in the summer. From what I could remember, it was a painless procedure that left no lasting remarks other than lying flat under lopsided bricks for 5 hours.

This same procedure that I had yesterday came as quite a surprise to me. Same protocol: small room, even smaller bathroom, change to hospital gown, insert IV cannula (twice for good measure), carry me onto the gurney, wheel down to the Operation Theatre, and greet a smiling Dr. Ashish. Same thing, different date... or so I thought.

As Dr. Ashish began poking my vertebrae to find the perfect space and landmarks for the injection, I noticed one slight change-- I could feel where he was prodding around! Immediately everyone sensed my nervousness, heightened by the incessant beeping of the heart-rate monitor... so a few numbing injections were set in place. Dr. Ashish soothed me by telling me that he checked his notes from last time and was trying a little bit of a different approach, that he felt would give me the most optimum of benefits. My nerves subsided, emotionally that is.

From there, he began to inject the cells towards the right side of my spine from what I could tell. Surprisingly, a shear sense of pain and impulse was sent directly towards the base of my lungs and near my heart. I felt like I had the most horrendous side cramp and heartburn all in the same instance. My body writhed on its own, a poor attempt at trying to get away from the beautiful foreign matter spewing into my back. I talked myself into trying to calm down. I wanted to invite these cells in, and not be rigid and scared. I wanted to greet them at the front door with open arms and an all-American apple pie.

It was so terribly hard.

The pains were increasing and I could feel the injections coming into my spine, now on the left side. Immediately a scorching amount of heat shot up my spine, into my neck. Pressure filled my head. There was a lot of worrying taking place in my head at this point, for that is how I remembered the last procedure that I had in the summer (which put me flat out for almost a week).

As all of this was happening, I relayed every part of it to Dr. Ashish and his crew, to the point of telling them repeatedly that my back was going to explode. In a calm manner, Dr. Ashish simply replied, "Can you tolerate it?" Of course I could tolerate it. I could tolerate anything!

Once it was over, I realized that my whole body was sweating and Dr. Ashish confessed that his was too. What a powerful moment. It only took a few minutes for the pressure and tightness throughout my body to leave and for my optimism to return. This was a good one! We all decided.

Dr. Ashish patted me on the head and told me that I did a terrific job. It feels good to make him proud.

From there I spent the next 5 hours in bed. Graham did a great job of keeping me busy with some bad jokes, passages about far-away lands, makeshift wall-ball games, airplanes down the hatchet, and the Discovery Channel. All in a day's work for him, I suppose.

Today I feel rejuvenated and ready to go. The only small reminder from the pain of yesterday is isolated into one small injection site on my back. This is the door to many things to come, hopefully.

A Brief Update

I seem to be almost getting back into the swing of things, gaining my barrings, getting my sea legs back.... I have physio at 9am and 2pm.

During the 9 o'clock session I do normal mat stretches and exercises reminiscent of the ones I did in the summertime. Chavi thinks that I can flex my right hamstring and left inner thigh... but I am yet to be so convinced. I suppose that Graham thinks so too--he taped it for you all, so you would decide for yourself. He is becoming quite the camera man, hopefully to all of your likings (minus the sideways video shots). In addition to the normal stretches, Chavi has me get on the floor on a mat to do some yoga poses on all fours, along with crawling and kneeling.

At 2pm I come back down refreshed after an inventive veg-lunch, ready to walk. Yesterday I walked more than I ever had in my calipers. Four times down and back with some backwards walking and side-stepping mixed in. I was extremely wobbly and sore afterwards, but at least it is a start. Today's walking session was much better--I walked this morning because I have my first procedure in about 20 minutes.

Graham and I will be hopping in a taxi shortly to head over to Gautam Nagar Hospital to join Dr. Ashish in my first procedure. From what I remember, it is a short procedure of only lying flat for 5 hours while they prime my spinal cord for the rest of my stay here in Delhi. We are in the middle of packing up our books, music, and pillows to prepare for the long day ahead.

On a side note... Dr. Ashish and Dr. Sudeep have joined forces in finding me a swimming pool, since it is far too COLD for outdoor pools to be open this time of year (you've got to be kidding me!). Anyways, I appreciate their compassion for my addiction and hopefully we will all be successful in finding me an indoor oasis for this month's stay.

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and it feels like all of the patients are getting ready for their departure home. The staff here is very good at dressing this place up like a winter wonderland and I am extremely excited to spend Christmas Day with all of my friends here. There is also a huge party scheduled for the 27th where all of the staff are to perform for us... which I am dying to see! I love this place.

One of the greatest things about New Delhi is the fact that you can jump in an auto-rickshaw and literally go market to market to find all of your necessary goods... though it is never quite done on time nor without some great life lesson and ridiculous adventure.

In just two days, Graham and I have already traveled from Palika Bazaar to Connaught Place to Janpath Market to Visant Vihar to Sarojini Nagar Market and to India Gate. We are busy kiddos. One of the most interesting aspects of it all is how I am so admittedly stared at. Personally, I'd like to consider it due to my overflowing charm and emanating beauty, but really I believe it has more to do with my fair skin and accompanied wheels.

It is almost like we are celebrities, getting our photos taken conspicuously by shiny cell phones and shaking hands with groups of young men as they watch us in the most mundane of activities.

Getting around New Delhi isn't much of a feat for me, namely because I pay little mind to those who stare and employ the rest for help up sharp curbs and over swiss cheese-like sidewalks.

That is the thing I love about Indians, they are so willing to help out and ask for nothing in return... unless they are a beggar, but even then they will help you in an instance, free of charge. The people here simply just want to know about you and know you. They are caring people with amazing hearts and souls that flow so much like the surrounding humid air. This place will never cease to thrill me or capture a piece of me either.

The Difference Between Blue and Orange

As much as I hoped for my old room 208 at the Green Park Hospital, being the largest room with a balcony and even a cushy shower chair, I was stuck on the 1st floor: the orange floor. At first it appeared rather intrusive. See: The bedsheets are orange, the curtains are orange, the wall panels are orange, the light fixtures are orange, the sofa-cum-bed is orange, everything is ORANGE.

Now, usually orange is one of my favorite colors, you should know. In fact, both my kitchen and bathroom at home are painted orange. But for some reason, this was bad news to me at first. Perhaps it was the initial shock of change that seems to getch-ya every time.

It appeared to get even worse once I stepped into the bathroom half the size as before...because what I discovered was that the toilet was in the shower!

I am still a little confused about what I am supposed to do with a toilet in the shower other than make a wet mess of everything in it. In fact, the first shower I took on the stupid thing I slipped off and hit my head on that porcelain beast. Go figure!

On the brighter side, Graham and I got settled in very easily with all of our luggage and daily reminders of home. We even decorated a bit for Christmas. I was thrilled to find out that we are to have a great party on Christmas day and the lobby is even fully equipped with our very own Americanized Christmas tree and blow-up-doll Santa Claus.

But now our stockings are hung up on the wall with great care and a little packaging tape, we have a eensy-weensy Christmas tree that gets a new present under it everyday--courtesy of Sarah, who spent way to much time and effort to have a gift for Graham and I for everyday of our stay in Green Park. So far we've gotten some chocolate, an ankle bracelet for me, a list of things to do for Graham, and a bar of soap because the soap at the old hospital was rather displeasing to Sarah (as she remembers it).

My real schedule will start on Monday with Chavi, one of the most experienced physiotherapists that I know. She is direct, thorough, yet does everything with a brilliant smile. I think that I am really going to enjoy getting beat up by her everyday. This time around, it will be a bit different in that a lot of my physio will involve mat and floor work, which I am thrilled for. We tried a bit of crawling this morning, and like a little baby for the first time I was wobbly, to say the least.

As our circadian rhythms start to acknowledge India for all of its glory, I will be able to up-keep my blog a bit better. Please stay tuned.

One Last Thing

As I finish stuffing heavy things in my already oversized duffle bag, I am just NOW realizing that I am going to India... tomorrow! Actually, in 8 hours!

I am sure that there are millions of things that I have neglected to do and various people that I have been too submerged in life to return calls to or meet for lunches. For those of you out there, I owe you a sandwich or something.

The world continues to spin, so does my head as the adrenaline from a stressful day is starting to subside. At least I have had the sense to pack 14 pairs of underwear this time and a Costco-sized tub of extra-crunchy peanut butter.

The other thing I remembered to do is leave you all the local phone number that you can reach me (and Graham) at on my computer:

303-586-1808

Please call, even if to leave me a message about the cold weather or the over-indulgence of holiday cheer...

3, 2, 1... Blastoff!!

That's the countdown. I leave in 3 days.

I can hardly believe it. I have so much to do to prepare, plus working on getting rid of this lingering virus that seems to want to be my friend forever. Truth-be-told, I used to think it was kind of cool to lose your voice... but now that I am older and wiser, it is really just an annoyance. Alongside of that, I have developed a cough; I think probably just to remind me of the viral dance party that is going on in my throat and lungs. Although, I am sure any day now I will awake with clear sinuses, refreshed tracheal lining, and the energy to conquer. But until then...

There are only two days of school left. Am I going to be able to let go of my students and swimmers? It's going to be extremely hard. I am leaving them all in safe hands, but I do take a lot of pride in what I do. Because I am missing final exams, I have to not only feel like I've prepared the kiddos before I leave, but I also have to have all of the final review stuff and the actual final exam completed... just to name a small task that is buzzing in the "Things To Do" compartment of my cerebrum. But until then...

All of the stuff that I am trying to make sure is wrinkle-free and ready to wear while I am gone will get done and I will be on a plane before I even have time to blink. I don't even really feel like I have had the time to stop and think about my latest adventure: the treatment and my return to one of my favorite places. But until then...

I will work at getting everything checked off of that list in my brain and will figure it out once I don't manage to get all of it done. Everything will be okay... my virus will subside, classes will resume without me, and I will be out of the cold before I know.

ZINDAGI

It means LIFE in Hindi. It looks like:


What does it mean to me?

It means that there is a need for breath and a desire to explore.

It means that the sun always rises and sets just for me, and that is why I must awake the same with an eager smile and close my eyes at night with the hope for yet another tomorrow.

It means I have been given the chance to make this world exactly what I want it. I can set goals that, at times, feel unreachable... but those are the goals that are the most rewarding and make the most difference.

It means that twists and turns and bumps should be expected, and maybe even be invited to dinner.

It means that there are simple changes happening everyday, and it is my responsibility to take the time to notice. My body is slowly realizing its own potential and beginning to ask my brain to rely on it some more.

It means clouds and lavender and chocolate chip ice cream and tire swings and laughter and howling at the moon and love and sweat and holidays and high-5s and memories and tambourines and bicycles and wrinkles around the eyes and baby giggles and late-night phone calls and shooting stars and innocence and hugs and so much more in every single second of it.

It means I am doing precisely what I should be.

Performing With A Purpose

The following message was written by 4 lovely ladies who helped so much in my fund-raising efforts last year. You might better know them as the "basket girls". Anyways, they (and I) would like to announce their latest fund-raising masterpiece:

This year's fund-raiser will be a showcase of talent with dessert and other fun activities. The fund-raiser will be at the Double Tree Hotel in DTC on February 28, 2009. We are looking for performers (dancers, singers, magicians, etc) to showcase their talents at the event. There will be approximately 15 acts from 1-5 minutes in length with anywhere from one to four people. If you are interested in performing, send an email to performingwithapurpose@gmail.com. For those of you who wish to atted the event, save the date! More info to come.
Thank you so much~ Julia, Michelle, Lauren, and Cara

What I'm Thankful For

I'm thankful for the opportunities that I have found for myself as I grow to become someone that I would want to admire.

I'm thankful for the support that has been given to me as I struggle to embark on each of my journeys. I only wish everyone could feel as grounded by their loved ones.

I'm thankful for the perspective that has been forced upon my life. I was lecturing the other day to my students about my accident, when it actually came out of my mouth... I am fortunate to have had such an accident and the ramifications therein. Otherwise, I would never be able to see the world with all of its beauty and grace-- the way that I do now.

I'm thankful for the power of now. I take a lot of pride in only worrying about the present, there is little energy to be given to the past, or the future for that matter. Now is the only reality that we have.

I'm thankful for everyone in my life that has taken the time to reflect only to say , "I love you", either verbally or visually stated.

Tickets and Visas and Subs... Oh My!

This week was equally as productive as it was stressful. The outcomes, however, made all the difference in my ability to break the news to my classes and swimmers that I was going to miss two weeks of their immediate lives.

I purchased 2 airline tickets on Monday, after attempting to graciously accept frequent flier miles from an extremely wonderful parent of one of my students. As it turns out, accepting those miles would have ended up costing me more money than simply paying for the stinkin' Continental flight that I had reserved before. Therefore, Graham and I will depart the US on December 17th after meeting in Newark to layover and reunite for a few hours.

After almost scaring me to death over the complications of his visa, Graham has secured his visa and is ready to go. I am pretty sure that if he knew the massive issues that Sarah had with obtaining her visa in June, (if you don't recall... having to cancel flights, sit in the Indian Consulate in Paris for days, and arriving a day late) he wouldn't have played such a cruel joke on me.

As far as school goes, I have a remarkable master teacher prepared to take over my classes while I am gone. She is not only a pro at biology, but she is a pro at long-term subbing... which if you don't have the pleasure of knowing, is an art in and of itself. I am still plugging away at getting all of my lessons set for those days I will miss. But I have to say, I am pretty excited about finding a way to keep in contact with my classes, whether it be through an online discussion board or even in real time-- if I can make it a whole night without sleeping (due to the 11.5 hour time difference).

Aside from all this madness, I am trying to make sure to take time to check in with my body. It is going through a lot of changes lately, probably sensing the anticipation of going back to Green Park. I am experiencing a lot of sensory fireworks. It absolutely feels like my nervous system is trying desperately to make a connection, any connection at that. I feel tingles and aches and pressure and fire and water all within the same instant.

My body is trying to tell me something and hopefully another dose of India will break its silence once and for all.

Trying to Figure It Out

As the days seem to have a hard time deciding what season it is to be here in Colorado, I am frantically trying to finalize my plans so that I can stop freaking out and start focusing on what matters most: 1) Making sure my kiddos are all safe and sound and tucked in as I bid, "namaste" to them in the next month or so, and 2) Getting all of my plans arranged so that there is actually a "namaste" to be bid!

So far, here is what I know...

I am learning that due to the timing of my upcoming trip that I will probably not be able to use any reward miles to secure a reasonable flight. Therefore, I am in the process of applying for a new credit card to pay for the stupid thing! My beautiful friend, Jenn, is helping me out with flights. She has sicked her aunt's travel company on it and hopefully will devour this task in no time at all.

I also know that I have a super companion to accompany me this "go-around", my conveniently transient friend Graham. He is starting a blog that you can access on the side bar of this page... please check it out, once he starts writing. I sure hope he knows what he is getting himself into! Actually, I am pretty confident and excited to have him as a travel buddy seeing as we are equally ineffiecient travellers with an outstanding lack for a sense of time. He is attempting to persue his passion for public health studies and trying to stay on a more permanent basis in India or thereabouts. I am very excited for him to discover all that India has shared with me and all that it has taught me about my own discovery of self.

More to come...

Here It Goes Again!

It looks like, with small twist of fate and some extremely loving individuals, I will be returning to Delhi a lot sooner than I ever thought.

I will be embarking on my second trip to the Green Park Hospital, a masterpiece of a place-- conducted by none other than Dr. Geeta Shroff, Dr. Ashish Verma, and an extraordinary cast of others.

This decision would have never been made without the unconditional blessings of the department coordinator and the principal at school. I have no idea how to tell them how appreciative I am to have their well-wishes and be privy to their beautiful hearts. I couldn't imagine another scenario where they reacted more supportively, more compassionately, or more genuine. Thank you, thank you.

From all of the wonderful fund-raising that was held for me last spring, I am fortunate enough to have some left-over funds saved to put toward this journey. If I were to ask for anything (and you should all know by now that this is my least favorite part of all this), I would ask for people who may have or may know someone who has extra frequent flier miles lying around to send those my way. Actually, I am not even sure that it is really an option, being "holiday blackouts" and all. I have no clue what I am doing. Last time that I did this, I had EVERYTHING figured out well in advance... and now I see myself, just a little over a month out, and I don't even have a plane ticket or a plan!

Although many of my plans are still up in the air, every part of me knows that this is the right descision at the right time. My body has been talking to me and trying to prove its progress to me through sweating, goosebumps, and deep-touch sensations. My mind and my spirit are ready to continue the exploration of this small part of the world that has changed me ever so much, as well as to continue the exploration of the expansion of my stubborn mind.

I am looking at leaving on or around the 17th of December and will be gone for a month. I will miss Christmas. I will miss New Years. I will miss final exams. I will miss coaching.

But for some extremely nonsensical and poetic reason... it all feels worth it.

A Driving Force

Fall Break is a beautiful addition to my teaching life. A whole week off with Halloween as the caboose, who could complain? Anyways, I decided to take a road trip with my friend Graham who is currently residing in Southwestern Michigan.

This adventure took us through Indiana, part of Kentucky, Tennessee, Arkansas, and Missouri. I knew that I was going to have a good time exploring a part of the US that I had never known, but I had no idea how it was going to help my unyielding mental tug-a-war.

Somewhere hidden between the blues on Beale Street, the fried chicken and catfish, the colors of fall, and the Ozarks I realized something....

I realized that I am due back in India. My mind and body require it even.

Currently I have no idea about the timing. I know that Dr. Shroff requests that I come in January, but I am still waiting to hear about other options.

I will keep you posted as soon as I know...

What Have I Been Up To?

Aside from trying to get my life in order, I have spent a lot of time trying to maintain some level of physical therapy. I have been fortunate enough to find a wonderful exercise therapy program in Boulder and have been working there once or twice a week. I made a movie to show you all how cool this program really is! Some things to note:
-- most of the exercises are geared toward strengthing my core
-- the device that looks like a giant scale is a vibration plate that is used for several reasons. It helps loosen my tight hips, allow me to recognize more localized sensation, and passively flex my muscles.
-- with the first bike I ride, I am using my hips and stomach to track it (and one of the trainer's hands!)
-- with the second bike I ride, electrodes are placed on my quads, hamstrings, and gluts to force the muscles to contract in a sequence. The machine stops when my muscles fatigue. So far, my record is 9.5 miles in one hour!
-- I made this video all by myself, so prepare :)

If you have a second, check this out:

http://sharedhopeproductions.com/Teaser.html

Sweating & Quivering

It has been an interesting transition back into the real world. So interesting, in fact, that I feel like I have done a pretty good job of neglecting communication with my body. In India, I got very good at checking in with my body to note any changes or cries for help. But being back in the States, surrounded by loads of laundry, piles of labs to grade, and catching -up dinners I have somehow forgotten what it was like to whisper inside and make sure everything was okay.

Until yesterday.

I was sitting in my classroom with the lights off doing some grading. Yesterday was a non-pupil contact day for the students, so I was able to try to gain my barrings again, at least in that aspect of my life. While I sat, I noticed that my lanyard that holds my keys and school identity conveniently around my neck was quivering. It was quivering because my stomach was quivering. Now it is no shocker that my stomach was engaging in spasm... it does so frequently when changing temperatures or sensing pain. However, this time was different. 1) Because there was no pain and 2) because it wasn't stopping. After awhile of gazing, I touched my stomach to see if it would stop shaking only to find that it was sweating profusely! And when I say sweating, I mean WET sweat. To investigate further I concluded that my entire lower back was wet as well. So wet that my t-shirt had been saturated with sweat.

It is a very known fact that people with spinal cord injuries tend to sweat a lot right at their site of injury, which was exactly where I was sweating (L1-L2). The only disconcerting thing was that I hadn't sweat like this since I was in the hospital with a back brace strapped to me. What I mean is that I haven't felt this sensation in over 10 years.

The sweating and quivering continued through most of the day. In fact, I am still a little sweaty writing this post. I'm not sure that it means anything of substance, but it is interesting to say the least.

And for those of you wondering... yes, I touched my stomach to make sure that I hadn't suddenly regained sensation and hadn't noticed yet.

An Invitation of Monotony & Comfort

I figured that when I got home I would be able to sense a lot more of my progress than I did in India. For the most part, I was right.

Being sort of back in a routine here at home I am easily getting stuck in the monotony that life tends to comfort you with. This monotony is actually quite welcomed for 2 reasons: 1) To be able to recall what my life was like before India, and 2) To be able to notice when things are not quite the same as before. Both of these aspects apply to me physically as well as emotionally.

Prior to venturing to India, I would have never suspected that something was missing from my life or that I didn't completely know who I was. After having spent everyday out there, literally and figuratively, standing in front of myself and having to face my own fears and hopes and determinations on a daily basis; this can take a toll on one's ego, but also send it soaring to a new level of awareness of being. I feel so blessed to have undergone this journey to have been able to explore my innards and ignite my soul. I can't simply remember what it was like before to not know.

Likewise, this summer has leant me a new promise of expectation for my body. By no means can I feel, but I do recognize my body in a way that I never have. All of the little neural excitations that are being formed are causing a heat-wave, a carnival ride, and a downpour all at the same time. Although I welcome these changes, sometimes I do not pay the attention to them that they deserve because sometimes I don't really believe myself that they are there.

I am excited to continue my everyday, mundane life here in order to challenge what I know in every possible realm. It is important to always be able to challenge what you know and what you are comfortable with. For without being able to launch yourself out of your own identity and comfort, you will ever truly know your how your honest, ever-cautious soul feels on the matter.

Rest & Relaxation

I think that I had originally planned this day to prepare for me to go back to school. Now that today is here I have absolutely no idea how I am supposed to plan for anything...

How am I supposed to plan for all of the questions I will be asked? How am I to plan for missing two months of bills, watering plants, car washes, and groceries? Who would have known that I needed to plan on being so sad?

It is truly strange to be home. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love my home, but I just feel like I forgot something along the way home. (And I don't mean my luggage, which I actually did lose too.) I have a certain sense of anxiety being home, partially because I don't really understand why I have it and partially because I know EXACTLY why I have it. I know that the sooner I jump back into my life the better off I will be. I know that I have spent the past two months of my life in a crucial arrangement. I know that I have learned my fair share.

This journey was a necessary struggle in many ways tied up in a neat little bow of happiness and discovery. I learned so much of my inner self. I whispered secret fears and were answered in hopes and dreams. I found confidence in myself and in mankind.

The time has come for me to return to the world that I have strategically cut out for me and use all of the adventures and wisdom I've gained in India. I owe so much to this experience and hope to really foster these feelings and emotions into a new way of life.

I will continue to learn and teach the world and chronicle along the way. I will always take with me Vandana's integrity, Dr. Ashish's smile, Lalan's laugh, Rita's warmth, Michael's understanding of it all, and Dr. Shroff's courage.

Thank you everyone for being there every step of the way with me. Many of you assume this is all over, but those of you who really know me know that it has all just begun. See you out there.

I Did Spend My Life On the Roof Last Night

...and it was definitely worth the two and a half flights of stairs.

I lay on the concrete in front of the world, being batted by its eyelashes and smiled by the moon. It was a great last night here to clear my head and let life move for me for once.

Heads or tails?

The world seems so much easier when viewed from a spectrum of 50/50. The prognosis that you suspect will give way to that perspective that you have created for this world.

I've been flipping a lot of coins in the past while bit (I stole the idea off Batman). There are so many unknowns in my life that want so many urgent answers... I had to bale. I couldn't keep up with my head asking me about my purpose or my wisdom or my journey.



I have been on quite a trek around myself and back again. In the past two months, I have spent grueling hours with my body. Is it or is it not moving? I have hiding inside my head sort of afraid to see who's out there to greet me. I've gathered a lot of metal calipers, and souvenirs, and henna, and friends. My brains is cycling in motion, it's 4:40 in the morning. I have so much to do before I leave...my room is a mess and my friends are still laughing down the hall.

My absence was due to my 2nd lumbar procedure. It was a quite a powerful one. I knew that I was in trouble the moment Dr. Ashish injected me and I A.) Felt it, and B.) Got a headache right away. I will spare you the details now only because I rolled a tails... Just know that I've been messed for days and am still even having a little trouble typing. However, we won't spend our time taking about the headache because that is a useless thing anyways. In the next 7 days is when I am supposed to feel changes; I would starts describing now but I haven't quite got my handle on the words.

I guess for now I am going to have to move slow and sure, realizing each beautiful moment for what it can really been envisioned. It may take some force to get me home from this magnificent land I've been wandering the world for ultimately myself. I am going to be sure to spend my last two nights full of excitement and energy...and maybe on the roof.

It's A Really Good Thing...

That I haven't had the chance to visit a school out here yet, and I don't think I will have time to. Otherwise, I am not sure I would come back to the States.

Every chance I get to interact and talk with kids here I take it. I love the obstacle: to try to give a bit of yourself to each child you lock eyes with. To give strength to the mud-soaked, pantless child who is motions to his mouth for food. To give peace to the child who, sadly, could sell any magazine to any bystander (no matter the language) like a true grown-up used car salesman. To give hope to the helpless babies that sit silent and naked in their teen-aged mother's arms, with no hope of ever leaving their shanty.

Today we found ourselves at Sarojini Nagar Market. This market is one of the largest in New Delhi and houses virtually everything, and almost everyone. Without even thinking, I struck up with a new best friend of mine, a 10-year old boy whose job was to carry parcels and bags for people who didn't want to carry their own-- a steal, at only 10 Rupees. At first, I didn't quite understand why he was carrying around an empty basket trying so eagerly to grab my bags from me. It didn't matter to me anyways. We exchanged names, which we both have forgotten already, as well as smirky smiles indicating that there was to be no harm in it anyways. This boy followed us throughout the market. He helped me get good deals on a few of my souvenirs. I tried to get him to play cricket. He kept pleading to carry my things. I gave him a few of my best high-5s.

At one point, I met up with another kiddo that couldn't have been more than 7 or 8. He was selling "black boards." These blackboards were probably made of outdoor trashbags that had been glued to a rod to make them roll up when not in use. This little boy was having little success with his business. Not really wanting to make that purchase for myself, I quickly noticed that the RD had been erased from the chalk advertisement for the BLACK BOA. I asked him for the chalk, but he couldn't find it. I tried to explain that the reason that no one was buying anything was because he had forgotten the R and the D. I am not sure he understood much other than the fact that I requested the chalk. After searching all 4 pants pockets, his shirt pocket, and even his sock the chalk magically appeared and I filled in the rest of the word for him. I was very happy to do it, and he would have been even happier had I bought the stinkin' trashbag blackboard.

There have been so many moments like this over the past two months. These moments have kept me feeling so alive and connected to others, though I am not really sure that is always reciprocated. I hope that I have at least touched one of the hundreds of babies and children that I have shared with and played with and winked with and laughed with. Deep down I know that I am helping myself more than anyone else, but that doesn't stop me from feeling good while doing it. And I don't think it should.

I Have To Put It In Writing...

In order to keep my word.

Today I promised Dr. Ashish that I will successfully keep up my blog (at least once a week) after I get back home.

You are my witness.

Gauging The Walker

My time here in Green Park is winding down, and apparently I am not the only one trying to fit everything to get the most out of my time here.

Today Vandana challenged me to stand with the walker rather than the parallel bars. I barely had the chance to utter how another patient just tried it for the first time and the why-can't-I whining when she softly smiles and says that it was going to be a surprise for me to try it.

Well, I am glad that I tried it... but I am not sure that it is my new favorite thing to do around here. I am excited, however, to have yet another mountain to climb (as if I needed one). Standing in my calipers surrounded by the comfort of steel that the parallel bars provide has become a safe haven for me without introduction. Having invited the loosely trusted younger brother of those bars over for a little stroll posed for quite an obstacle for me. I was no longer surrounded by what I had grown to know so well for walking, but rather I was now clinched on to two tiny pieces of flimsy metal with wheels on the base and nothing to catch my fall.

It was Vandana's intention not to have me walk with the walker but just to stand to gauge a new goal once my gait had improved. She explained to me that until this happens there is no reason to practice poor steps, which I entirely agree. So for probably the first time since I have been here, I obeyed delightfully and stood with white knuckles embracing the walker.

Although it wasn't long before Dr. Shroff could sniff out my fear and offer an additional challenge. Dr. Shroff is famous for the way that she can always slide in a more difficult task with the grace and beauty of snowfall. She invited me to walk a few steps with the walker while encased amongst the parallel bars. She figured that my fear would be fooled and that I would perform beyond the expectation. This is partly true. My fear of structural simplicity was eased, thanks to Dr. Shroff; however, my gait was still pretty wobbly. I really do benefit from both sides of the spectrum: being pushed to my limit by such a powerful force but also to have the rationality and wisdom to do only what I can do the right way. There is no need to practice foolishly.

Work hard and shoot for those things that are grueling and uncomfortable, but keep in mind that it rarely beneficial to step beyond the weight of your own 2 feet (particularly if those feet tend to have a mind of their own).

On a side note, I will be having my very last procedure tomorrow at Gautam Nagar. Dr. Ashish tells me that this is going to be quite an intense one in terms of the quantity of cells and the location of placement. I look forward to it, for every moment here has been a crucial stone in the path of healing and discovery. This particular stone, however, does not have internet access. Consider yourself forewarned.

Tick-Tock

Time heals all wounds. Time is of the essence. Time you enjoyed wasting is not wasted time. Time is money. Time stays long enough for anyone who will use it.

Although it is a concept that is completely inspired by man, meaning that it only exists because we pay attention to it, time has soaked through every facet of every life. I've never quite understood how so much effort is spent on something that is so translucent and intangible, something that cannot be dug up nor dished out nor hung to dry. But for some reason, time is everywhere... existing because we give it power and meaning. We give it thanks when it follows in our favor and we curse it and blame it when we are too weak to carry our own.

I, too, have been subject to the impenetrability of time. Some of my emotions are even dependent upon where time stands in circles of my own circumstances...

Closely arriving the annual reminder of my time spent on this earth, I sit here thinking quite remarkably about the weight that is placed upon time. I feel anxiety towards many things. Is it true that I am only 24 months shy of 30 years of age? Is it also true that I have a mere 8 days left here in Delhi? It couldn't possibly be true that I have spent almost 12 years in a wheelchair. Where has time gone and why didn't I noticed him as he slipped past me out the door? Sissy.

I can't believe that my time here is almost over. I am so settled in life here: the Hinglish, the head bobs, the paneer tikka, the rickshaws, even the cows. They all seem to be part of who I am, aside from the actual reason that I even came to this great stinky land in the first place.

As you may have guessed it, time has an amazing relationship with stem cells as well. There are jokes floating around about the anti-aging qualities of these little cells, but it is all (frighteningly) true. Stem cells have the power and the potential to effect time and cause little breaks in the natural course of things. This is exactly what I was searching for by coming. I am not looking for the new and fabulous stem cell face cream for my surfacing crow's feet, but I am, however, looking for a way to extend the quality of how I manage and utilize my time on this planet.

So far these little, tiny cells have flooded my system. They have given my lower extremities a much-welcomed bath of oxygen-rich blood that has caused my wounds to heal, my scars to mend, and my edema to cease. As far as I am concerned, I am playing a pretty stiff poker game with time and I am holding a full-house.

The intention that one has for time to play a role is the most crucial aspect of how time is utilized. In the eyes of the universe, these 2 months in India has been a drop of water in a whale's mouth. However for my fairly neglected body, these 2 months have been a lifetime of renewal.

And in the same respect, I feel like I have been here forever and a lifetime, all the while feeling like I haven't done a darn thing in this short adventure to somewhere. Here is where a lot of my anxiety is building. Currently I am making lists in my head of things I need to buy, places I need to explore, people I need to thank, and exercises I need to remember. In only a week's time!

I am not really sure how time has such control over the way we act and react, and better yet how we understand our emotions. It is silly really... all that we have is time, yet time isn't really more substantial than the Easter Bunny or Santa Claus. For something that I have such difficulty with understanding, it sure does run my life pretty well.

I just hope that no matter what, the time that I have lost will remain with me forever in thought; whereas the time that is waiting for me is full of wonder and mystery and hope for the greatness of things that still remains unrealized by my mind at this point.

If Only My Eyes Were A Camera...

Independence Day is a huge affair in India. We began our festivities by launching the nation's flag via a pulley system onto the rooftop.


From there, we gathered back inside complete with Dr. Shroff, Dr. Ashish and their family members to laugh and cheer with one another over some live entertainment, lunch, and refreshments. It was great to not only spend time with the other patients, but to also be able to spend time with the staff. It brought about such closeness to meet the families behind the lovely faces that greet you everyday. It is hard to imagine at times that India isn't home.

Dr. Shroff's mother shares a birthday with India (as well as Kanako!) We celebrated with chocolate cake for both, and when Kanako wasn't able to accept the song in person Sarah and I did what any noble friend would do and announced the upcoming anniversaries of our own births. The whole lot sang for Sarah and me while Dr. Shroff oversaw a proper cutting of the cake and blowing of the candles.

It only partial worked. Sarah and I still managed to ham it up pretty well and get cake everywhere.


The day danced on with balloon games with children, traditional Hindi hip gyrations, and any attempt to get the sisters and the ward boys in on the fun. I really hope that they had at least a spoonful of the fun that I had today.







Later on, after most of the sugar had been consumed and the majority of balloons had been suffocated a few of us headed out to India Gate... the most popular spot for people and kites on Independence Day. India Gate sort of looks like the Parisian L'Arc de Triomphe, which I love dearly. It was quite a sight today, however. People from all over were there to celebrate and try to sell you cheap souvenirs. Little did we know, that we were to quickly become the main attraction for the event.


I had never been looked upon so much in my entire life. We wheelers drew in such a crowd as we rolled amongst the mob. Without much effort, we learned that it was best to keep moving, for if we didn't we would have at least 30 people around us within a moment's notice. Michael was the most desired of the 3 wheelers (myself and Gavin didn't hold a candle to that hunk-a-flame). We were asked to pose for pictures and to hold babies and to save the world, probably. For some odd reason, it was sort of enjoyable... I guess because the whole event was absolutely comical.

What a day. Happy Independence, India.

A Goal For The Future, A Future For The Goal

Currently, I am living in this cyclical state of wanting to create goals for myself but also not really wanting to put too much investment into the unknown future. This cyclical state is actually more like a tornado because it is definitely not getting me anywhere and definitely not helping.

Allow me to explain:

Generally speaking, goals are a great thing. As an athlete and a coach it is crucial for one to have set goals in mind in order to have something to strive for and to understand the intention you have for practice and competition. In life, goals are what usually separate the meek and weak from the truly successful ones, the "go getters" of society. Living life without ambition for something better is sort of like surrendering to the idea that you have no purpose. Realizing my own goals and pursuing them to the fullest is the only way to keep in true check with myself... Why am I here? What can I do in this world? Who do I aspire to be like? These questions can never be appropriately answered, but they really shouldn't be engaged without a fight.

Call me a fatalist, call me what you will, but it has always been really hard for me to make decisions based on promotion of the future. I imagine that this school of thought started after my accident, leaving me feeling as though ANYTHING could happen at ANY TIME. You can't plan for it, you can't change it, so you might as well not be bothered with it. Now I spend my days living in the present, "The Precious Present", if you will. It is far more comfortable and intelligent for me to think only about what I can do now to change or correct my current state. I can't help or know what is going to happen down the road, but I am responsible for what is happening now. So be it.

Now here is where it gets tricky. Having a desire to set goals for myself to engage in worthwhile activities and moments, yet all the while not really initiating future thought is nearly impossible. I do realize that in coming to India for this stem cell treatment that I was looking at my future, but I was looking at it through an opaque lens at best. I know that I want to lead a long and healthy life with few complications: that is my goal. Right now, I am having trouble maintaining such a fuzzy goal with so many others seeing it crystal clear for me. Duh Ryan, the goal is to walk. But is it? Does that truly have to be the end -all-be-all solution for what I am after?

In coming to India, I was actually quite nervous that my goals would change. That I would get asphyxiated with the idea of walking and would then transfer my life into thinking that I wouldn't be living a proper life without walking. This goal is very beautifully true for most people here and I can't help but feel a little offended. Am I not whole if I am not walking? Could I not be just as good from down here? At first I thought this feeling came from fear. I thought that if I had the goal to walk that I would not be able to live up to it and feel rejected forever. That is, with relief, not the case at all.

Surrendering to the idea that perhaps I am a little concerned for my future has not been any easier to swallow. I consciously remind myself throughout the hours of the day, that: if this was it could I be happy with that? But now, I am currently putting my entire life on hold to pursue a desire to extend myself beyond my current state of contentment. Wow, that is a lot of pressure. Luckily, I have found this experience thus far to be full up of reflection, learning, playing, and faith. I have found friends in a place where I didn't know I would need them. I have found love in the eyes of strangers. I have found an uncharted land full of beauty and wonder if you would only let it be so. I have found a piece of myself that I never knew I was missing.

Thank you India, thank you craziness, thank you stem cells, thank you unknown, thank you friendship, thank you goals, and thank you future.

P.S. Today is India's Independence Day to be celebrated with no Physio and a dance party downstairs. More on that later.

And Then There Were Two?

Today was quite a trip. I think that my character is continually being tested at any open avenue that could possibly be accessed.

Not only did we bid farewell to Erin this morning, we almost bid double-farewell to Kanako as well. Poor Kanako, her beautiful puppy, Payshia, is not doing well without her. She has Addison's Disease and has been on a downward spiral ever since Kanako left. It is probably mostly due to Kanako's nurturing soul that Payshia is missing and feeling like one sick pup.

We all spent the entire day on the computer taking turns looking for flights, talking with airline associates on the phone, and reassuring the whole of India that Payshia was going to be okay.

Sarah and I hugged Kanako goodbye at about 8 o'clock this evening with a very hopeful flight itinerary. I guess it wasn't hopeful enough. By the time she made it to the airport, the airline employees professed that it was too late. So over the phone lines we schemed, determined and ready to get Kanako on a dang flight...until I found one! I hope!

I am sitting here alone in my Green Park Hospital room only for the third time since I arrived. I am waiting to hear that Kanako is safely on her overpriced way home. Watch out Beijing, Kanako may be in town! I will keep you all updated with her travels in the meantime.

As for me, as it is always sad to see friends go, I feel a bit lighter knowing that Kanako can be reunited with Payshia and begin nursing her back to health. I feel so much more comfortable knowing that both of their stresses should be relieved soon. I also feel a healthy sense of solitude that I haven't had much time or space to endure while in India. I am sure in about 20 minutes I will be missing my friends and want so badly to have the fake-foldout, ugly blue couch occupied; along with shoes and bags laid out like ornaments on a Christmas tree. But for now, I will sit on my halfway made bed and watch some Olympic Badminton because that is really all India is interested in anyways. Maybe so am I.

"Pandora's Box"

Dr. Ashish-o and I are on the same wavelength. I think that we have both been wracking our brains trying to figure out how to reach that spot of broken vascularity in my trunk in attempt to bring back the oxygen that portion of my spine needs.

Now I am no surgeon and I am no spinal cord expert... everything I know I know from personal experience, but I still understand the need for my new baby stem cells to find that one broken link to reset everything in my trunk. So yesterday Dr. Ashish did exactly what I would have done, if that matters at all.

I was taken, once again, into the Operation Theatre by OP and his gang of techs, one of the sisters, and greeted by a smiling Dr. Ashish. Dr. Ashish's smile is so big that you can even see it through his surgical mask and feel it from the hallway. Right away they got me into position, lying on my side in a small scrunched up ball with only inches between my forehead and knees. I was given an epidural injection of cells, below my site of injury (probably about belly button level on my back). This injection was very much like one that I had received at the beginning of my stay; however, it came with a very interesting surprise...

For the first time during a procedure, when punctured near my spine I have never so much as bled even a drop. This time, Dr. Ashish was quite pleased to find that my back bled so much that they need to clean up after it was all done. My first instinct was to be grossed out by it, until I looked up to see how elated Dr. Ashish was at this new reaction. The sole fact that my lower half is becoming more vascular is wonderful, but even more wonderful is the fact that it is exactly what my out-of-order trunk needs.

I spent 5 hours lying flat with bricks to invert me, then another half hour on my side, only to get up rather quickly to jump in the taxi waiting downstairs to whisk us back to Green Park. There was barely a moment to get my IV canula removed, let alone enjoy the cup of tea that Sarah and Kanako had waiting for me.

This procedure was pretty exciting for me because it was the first one that I felt like was truly specialized for my case. I have been told several times by several sources that my situation is very different than any other that has rolled through the door before, as if I am shocked about that.

I will have one more procedure before I leave and return back to the real world. This will be yet another dreaded lumbar puncture, since I performed so well at it before. From my understanding it will happen next week with the exact day and time remaining to-be-determined, as if I am shocked about that either.

I Had The Time Of My Life

Erin left for home this morning. Henceforward, I will truly miss my gelato buddy, the professional photographer of our daily lives, and the most even-keeled of the lot of us.

After a wonderful goodbye dinner, we headed to a local discotheque where we easily found our way to the karaoke machine. We delightfully serenaded each other with our best renditions of "I Will Survive", "Take It Easy", and "I'll Be Watching You." But Erin and I brought down the house with a special duet of "I Had The Time of My Life" from the original Dirty Dancing Soundtrack. It was irresistible, lasting remnants include a sore throat and a slight regret for agreeing to be the boy voice.

Erin is a wonderful friend for putting her life on hold to be in India with me. Her compassionate nature and willingness to let everything go for all of us will, sadly, not be able to be replaced in these last weeks of my stay.

I want to thank Erin for being such a crucial part of this journey for me. This has been far much more than I could have ever imagined. Without these beautiful friends of mine, I would have never made it this far alone. In short, Erin wins the gold for putting up with my endless shenanigans.

We will miss Erin. India will miss Erin.

Following Procedures When Screwing Around

Tomorrow we had some big plans to celebrate Erin's last day in Smelly Delhi... We were to venture off to Old Delhi, the more northern, crowded, dirty, yet painfully authentic part of this giant city. There are many famous sites, including the Red Fort, the fairly famous Jama Masjid Mosque, and a market called Chandi Chowk (not for the faint at heart, so I am told).

However, in the spirit of all things Indian, I just found out that I am to have a procedure tomorrow at the Gautam Nagar Hospital. This procedure is a "simple" one-day procedure, or at least that is the last word I heard on it. From my knowledge, this procedure is going to be quite similar to the very first one that I had, only this time in a different area of my spine. (Last time it was down at the absolute base of my spinal column). If I had to guess, I would say that Dr. Ashish, the guru visionary of stem cell procedure, would inject somewhere near my T5 injury-- the injury that I sustained due to a stroke shortly after my initial spinal cord injury of L1/2. I think that he is bound and determined to direct cells towards that missing link of vascularity that is keeping all the lights out on that block of vertebrae.

Right now, the real goal in terms of getting back lost function would be to increase the blood supply to the area between T5 and L1 were it was suffocated and lost. It is amazing because it really would only take one new cell to complete the circuit to send the blood rushing back in. Once this happens, the entire area--both motor and sensory--should be completely restored. We are all placing bets on this you see because both Dr. Shroff and Dr. Ashish state that it will happen quite suddenly and without any regard for my surprise. Maybe it will happen here. Maybe it will happen while I am swimming. Maybe it will happen in my sleep. Maybe it will happen a year from now. Maybe it will happen in the middle of a thunderstorm. Maybe it will happen on a slow boat to China. Maybe it will happen.

For now, I work on the things that are present and controllable, like shopping... and eating... and laughing... and exercise... and screwing around.

Meeting In Drops of Water

Everybody needs a support system to be able to keep a steady, forward motion in their lives. This support generally comes from the people that are closest to them and reverberates outward just like drops of water will on the surface of the many resting drops that had already before.

Just to be able to take this leap to India and to be strong enough to test my will everyday could have only been successful through the help of the hundreds of people in my life. I have so many people that are carrying me through this experience that I feel that I am already walking on my own.

The remarkable thing, however, is that I relished in all of you people in my life as I headed over oceans to reach this place... but I never in a million years thought that I would gain even more people in my life to help along the way. I suppose it is true that friends will always find you, and that result of a single drop of water can leave quite a lasting result if you let it.

Receiving daily emails and phone calls and blog comments have been absolutely crucial to my progress, but so has the real-time development of friendships and those new memories. I never realized just how much I would need love here as well.

I owe so much to all of the other patients (like Michael) at the hospital, to be able to communicate the few words that you can string together to actually attempt to make sense of this crazy ride, is so important. Sometimes you can't help but to feel all alone in terms of emotion, until you go down the hall and knock on the door of a friend that is feeling the most similar of fears and hopes as well.

There is also something really to be said about the staff here. If I were to try to name them all I would just end up with an entire list of the crew here at Green Park and Gautam Nagar, and with a lot of spelling mistakes. I owe it to the doctors, the physiotherapists, the sisters, the ward boys, the receptionists, to everyone that continues to smile when I may not want to.

Vandana has been especially formative in my development here. She pushes me to a level of progressive discomfort. She is honest, but never brash. She is the most reliable person I think I have ever met. She will tell it as she sees it, and is always willing to listen to my silly suggestions. She has grown to love us gals, even though she fought it hard at first. We make each other laugh everyday as she helps me across the parallel bars and stretches the most unstretchable of bodies (I suppose minds too, at times). I actually know that she has no clue about the impact she is leaving inside of me.


I feel that I am gaining so much out of this experience aside from what I had originally set my sights on. As my body is reconnecting from the inside out, my mind and newest loved ones are connecting from the outside in.

Olympic Fever Is Not a Threat In Delhi

All of us here have been talking about the Olympics long before it even started. Indians as a whole don't really seem to have much of an eye on the event, nor do they really seem to have excitement for sport in general if it doesn't involve the word "cricket."

I have been noticing for weeks now the vast difference between athleticism here as compared to that in the US. Back home there is a strong sense for sport and competition in a rainbow of realms, being able to see people exercising virtually everywhere in every facet. In Colorado, especially, there is almost a new sport for every day of the month. It is sort of a fad really, with over-sized and overstocked stores supplying the latest in hi-tech gear to foster all of your tragically competitive needs as well as guaranteeing you at least look the part.

Virtually every day we travel to Siri Fort Sports Complex to go swimming. This complex is rather extravagant in that it features, not only an Olympic-sized pool for swimming, but also a range of other sports as well: golf, shooting, basketball, tennis, yoga, etc. This facility, however, as comprehensive as it is, still smells like Delhi and has many typical Indian rules. The elite few who are fortunate enough to gain membership here come to workout quite regularly. I can only speak for those in the pool, but swimming in India means something entirely different than it does in the States. All that I can say is it is no wonder that there are only 4 Indian swimmers competing in this year's Olympics.

So with that said, I suppose that I am not that surprised about the lack of enthusiasm here about the Olympics. Most of the people I have talked to don't plan on viewing at all, or ask what events they offer.

The 4 of us crowded on my bed to watch the Opening Ceremonies the other night and hooted and hollered for India as well as all of the countries who had less than a proper team's worth of athletes... we did this out of great pride for sport and fun, as well as for the commentary on uniforms the athletes displayed as they marched through in their country's honor.

(I learned from that experience that I will probably need to enroll in a World Geography course about once every 6 months when I get home.)

We are all trying with great desperation to bring the Olympic Fever to Delhi, perhaps it has a long incubation period though. Every day for the next 3 weeks we will continue to hoot and holler for swimming and cycling and gymnastics and football and basketball and perhaps boxing and--I suppose--archery (these being the sports most widely shown here).

Thank you DD Sports for being the only channel in Delhi to broadcast the whole thing and for consciously taking a monetary dive to do so for the sake of sport!!

When It Rains

Yesterday began and ended with dreary, drizzling rain. Our morning swim wasn't effected much, other than it being a little bit slippery and more expensive (rickshaw drivers hike up the price when you are sopping wet and pathetic). As we headed out of the sports complex in a drippy attempt to hail a rickshaw to take us back home for Physio, Michael uttered the comment that it was going to be a long day... I had no idea he meant for me as well!

The rain has never been a good source for stalling my vision, so shortly after lunch I headed out with Erin to the market to get some pants made. We stopped at a small shop that I had had a pair of pants copied the week earlier. I warned Erin of the hassle that might await us, seeing as no one in the shop speaks much English, and the small detail that I think that the tailor doesn't think that I ever paid. This turned out to be more of a problem that I had anticipated... poor naive me.

The entire shop is the size of an apartment bathroom in New York City. All 4 walls covered floor to ceiling in folds of fabrics. Reds, blues, greens, yellows, teals, violets, flower patterns, polka dots, argyle, and more flowers. The shop had neglected inviting in visitors that may exceed a size thicker than a toothpick, so a lot of rearranging of furniture had to be made just to get my chair in the door. I was slowly greeted by the aged (yet semi-warm) owner of the store, his agile and nimble caddies of fabrics, and the crotchety tailor. Sounds like the 3 men in the tub, no?

I immediately began my prepared explanation of the pants I desired and how they needed to be cut and stitched. As soon as words started coming from my mouth so did my universal language of charades. Stopping myself after only a few gestures, I noticed that the tailor was not really receiving my attempt at the scissor portion of Rock, Paper, Scissors. I asked the old man at the front desk if he was okay because I had already wearily determined that he was the only one who could understand parts of my Hinglish. The old man said, "He say you no pay him last time." Was he serious? Was this just what these guys do to make a couple more bucks? It'd be okay to pay him another 8 dollar equivalent for the pants, they were really cheap... but it was principle, right?

Trying desperately to explain how I know that I paid, I think that my quiet game of charades became a little hostile. I told both men that I paid each of them separately and I remember that specifically, one for fabric and one for the stitching. There was going to be no convincing this guy. I even questioned him about my returning to the store and how it would be foolish if I had stiffed him before. Nope, nothing... not even the Hindi head-nod.

Finally I just had to leave. It was a good thing that Erin was with me. She not only helped to hold back my tears; but also to act as the scaffolding for my head, just barely managing to keep it on straight long enough to know when it was time to go.

Everything turned out for the best, minus the whole knowing-that-someone-thinks-you're-a-crook type thing. Erin and I found another shop that turned out to be cheaper, less accusatory, a fair more English savvy, and faster in turn-around.

And today I awoke to sunshine, knowing that there is always a silver lining... no matter how much it rains, how hard, or for how long. You just have to stick with your guns, your goals, and your friends to help pass the time until those stinkin' nimbus clouds pass by your troposphere above.