A couple weeks ago my 24 year-old son had to have back surgery to resolve a bulging disc. This isn’t something you think is going to be required, especially considering that he’s a two-time All-American Decathlete! But all the training and competing in ten different track and field events had taken its toll, and his body decided to revolt.
We were very fortunate that the problem was identified and he was able to go to surgery so quickly. Now he has a long road of rehab and recovery…and that’s what’s got me worried.
You’d think that when a healthy young man has to go to surgery, the biggest concerns would be about the surgery itself. There are always risks involved, and honestly some of the risks are pretty serious. While it was very unlikely, it was possible that a problem during surgery could’ve left him paralyzed. That’s a pretty significant consequence. But being around surgeons for the past 30 years, I’ve become somewhat immune to the small percentage concerns. It’s not that I discount them, but there are certain things that you can do nothing about, so fretting over them isn’t worth the energy. I’ve usually taken the attitude we’ll cross that bridge if we get to it rather than worrying myself into a tither.
What I am worried about is my son overdoing it. He’s a very driven individual. It’s hard not to be when you compete like he does. He’s also a leader on his team, and in life, for that matter. He doesn’t want to let anybody down, especially his teammates or coaches. This surgery happened the day before the indoor conference track meet. His team didn’t do as well as expected, partly because they didn’t have the points he would’ve earned. He was relegated to watching the competition on TV, rather than actually competing or even being in the stands cheering on his teammates. That was exceedingly hard for him. While his body was stiff from the surgery, and his back was somewhat swollen…the aches and pains were far outweighed by the desire to be there for his team.
As a Dad it was hard to watch him struggle with that, knowing full-well any attempts at traveling to the venue would’ve had lasting lifelong effects on his back and his ability to compete in the future.
So we watched the meet on TV and discussed his recovery.
Despite the fact that the doctor’s orders had implored him to take it easy, I condescended and let him walk a mile the day after surgery. The next day we walked another mile together. His workouts usually involved anywhere from four to seven events every day, and they usually last for two to five hours…so walking a mile was almost laughable. It took us 30 minutes…mostly because that’s the speed that I would let him go, not one bit faster.
By the third day after surgery, I could tell he was getting cabin fever. His body was still slightly swollen and he was stiff, but he kept arguing that his stiffness was caused by inactivity. Yet the doctor’s orders were clear: He had to take it easy. No weight lifting or stretching. No lifting over 5 pounds. No running. Those were easy to enforce. But as driven as he is, we had to have a very difficult discussion about all the other things he couldn’t do. That’s were it got dicey, because he’s not somebody to be told he can’t do things. He’s the kind of person that will find a way to do almost anything…and that’s where my worry lies.
For example, a couple of years ago he shattered his left arm while skiing. He was run into by a snowboarder, and rather than mangle the other person, he opted to partially avoid the collision…and ended up running into a tree instead. After nearly seven hours of surgery, his arm full of screws and a 7-inch long plate, he was back together. That was Christmas Eve, just 14 days after the beginning of the indoor track season. We expected he was going to be out of competition for the entire indoor season. We then assumed he might have a slight chance or returning for the very end of the outdoor season, maybe in late April or early May.
But not my superman. 28 days after the horrific injury (including the 11” scar on his forearm), and wearing an elbow brace to end all braces, he competed in the 600 yard run at a track meet. Six days later, he competed in a heptathlon, placing third. This included the first time I’d ever seen someone one-arm pole vault. Since he couldn’t put much pressure on the arm, and certainly couldn’t pull with it, he used the arm to help balance the pole vault pole as he ran down the runway and then simply let it go limp as his right arm did all the work of the pole vault.
He proved that the estimated six-month recovery could be compressed into a single month. And while it might not have been the smartest move, he proved what he was made of.
Yet your arm, not matter how badly shattered and held together by screws, glue, and a plate is a lot different than your back. If something went wrong with the arm’s healing, it was much easier to take a day off. He could still use his other arm. He could even go to the gym and do lifting with the good arm or do leg day. He came up with all sorts of workarounds.
On the other hand, your back is impacted by everything you do. And it’s not well-designed for healing. The blood flow is different. The muscles pull in all sorts of directions. And honestly it’s pretty hard to move your back in ways that are safe. The surgeon made it crystal-clear that there was a 40% chance of re-injury if the protocols weren’t followed. In fact, the incidence of re-injury was higher than that. He didn’t try to scare us, so much as outline the difficulties in getting the back to heal properly. The biggest thing he focused on was giving it time.
That’s where I keep seeing the red flag. There’s going to be a lot of patience required during this healing process…and that’s not my son’s strong suit. In fact, that’s a suit he usually doesn’t have in his hand at all!
The hardest thing for him is going to be dialing back his desire to workout. His modus operandi is to over-train. He’s got the attitude that there are tons of folks who are more talented that he is. There are loads of athletes who have more physical gifts than he has. He can’t control those things. But the one thing he can control is how hard he works. His basic premise is that no one will outwork him. If he loses to someone who has more gifts…that’s life. But he’s never going to be out-hustled. Period.
But right now, hustle is the one thing he can’t use. He has to use patience. And that’s almost the exact opposite of hustle.
As a Dad, it’s hard for me to be living four hours away. He’s an awful texter, so it’s difficult to get updates from him. And he’s not one to chat on the phone. He’s usually too busy…at least that’s the reason he gives us. And frankly, when looking at his schedule, I think that’s truly been a reasonable reason. But now he can’t workout for hours each day. I’m hoping we’ll be able to loosen those lines of communication a little bit. I know he’s going to need moral support and he’s going to need somebody to help him through his desire to overdo things. I was going to write “ride herd on him”, but that’s not really correct. At the end of the day, he’s going to have to decide what his body can handle. But I’m firmly of the belief that I had to be the other angel on his shoulder reminding him to be patient.
That’s gonna be a tough job!
