Reflecting
I know how I’ll probably die. “Fine.” “Better.” Customary responses to small talk don’t capture recent days well. Subjectively, the pain has been more excruciating than I knew was possible. Statistically, there is little comfort – most people die from the kinds of pulmonary embolisms I just survived. Survived for now — recurrence is common. It could be soon or years from now (living to over 70 years old has longer odds than I’d like) but it will never be “over” or out of mind.
The lack of an end date isn’t easy on others. This lacks the narrative arc that friends clearly want. Well wishers piling up the bromides about how glad they are that I’m recovering do so with different nerves than I feel and different actuarial tables than I read. Modernity has adopted the language of therapy culture and its vapidity is annoying and innumerate. You know things will get better? Do you? Then rush to publish as your unique insight is quite inconsistent with the evidence.
If your blood stops flowing to consequential body parts, it is both dangerous and uncomfortable. I can attest to it, but you could probably guess. One gets passing thoughts of the injustice, but that’s not that helpful. And my health and fitness habits are unambiguously why I’m alive. My genes are why it was such a close call. What matters is what always matters: what am I going to do about it now? My sword of Damocles hangs over my head by a thread. But you have one too. We all do.
We can strengthen that thread. We can use our time well whether hours or decades. And when “why me?” thoughts distract you with rage against fate’s handing you something worse than perfection, injustice less than you deserve, and self-pity over the suffering, let them come but then let them go. Get to work. Find the problem, fix the problem. It is never too much to bear. Your life will be far more impacted by how you confront big, unexpected things than small, expected ones. This isn’t a diversion from life; it is life. There wasn’t some perfect one that this one replaced other than in one’s imagination. This is my life; I’m just newly learning of it.
Training
I’ve added to my backyard gym with a speed bag and a Slater log (a big log with natural grips for a light bench press, moderate clean and jerk, or heavy overhead press). I take the fifth on overhead pressing it once against doctor orders regarding standing lifts while my leg recovers. At my desk, I’ve been ripping card decks in half and bending nails to keep my grip strength when there’s little else I can do until I recover more. Started PT. I like my physical therapist and am going to try to go by myself Friday.
Fueling
I don’t have any dietary changes but am amping up hydration as that could help prevent more clots. While I’m in the emergency end of the spectrum, everyone should hydrate and take practical steps to reduce blood viscosity such as regularly giving blood. Lower blood viscosity is better for almost everyone. I will stick with a low carbohydrate ketogenic fueling. It works for me and works for many others. It even puts diabetes into remission:
Supplementing
Nothing but blood thinner injections for now. I hate them. But they get less bad over time. One can get used to anything. If you have to inject yourself with acidic meds, it feels like a wasp sting. Ice before and after. Frustratingly, I worked hard to get abs and now it is more of a curse as it is much harder and less comfortable to give injections there.
Measuring
I am starting to use a home EKG monitor to collect data I can send to my specialists if necessary. My hope and expectation is that I can lessen the number of trips to the emergency room but monitoring my heart with this.
Recovering
I (demonstrably) can’t eliminate risk, only manage it. I want to get back out into the world as soon as possible but also need to account for my much higher risk profile. To that end, I just bought new trauma kits for our cars, bikes, home, and office so that I can be less likely to bleed out on blood thinners. This is obviously crucial for me, but not a bad idea for anyone.
I have historically been uneven about wearing a helmet for short bike rides such as the mile from home to office but now that will be essential. And I will take a break from my brakeless fixie and instead ride my more traditional road bike with brakes. The fixie was one of my more marginal safety calls anyway and the significantly increased downside from trauma puts it in the -EV column for now.
Closing
I do not know my future or the future of Vale Tudo. I’m not sure if it is ridiculous to write about health and fitness as I have had such a big health setback with commensurate deconditioning. Not sure I offer more than a cautionary tale. But I know that my problem was genetic and that my combination of fitness efforts is what saved me. And even though jiu jitsu was the proximate cause, I am undaunted and unwavering in my burning desire to return to intense training. As a fit friend who also just went through (happily more successful) surgery wrote, you should fear weakness much more than exercise-related injury. Jiu jitsu might have almost killed me. But inactivity definitely kills you. I am not scared – pissed off but unafraid.
Dont know u dude .. but best of luck and love your philosophy.. olli
Chris - this sounds so scary. I’m so glad you survived the embolism but can’t imagine what you are going through. I sent you a cheesy card yesterday to let you know I was thinking of you, but please feel free to throw it away without opening it as I am afraid it will just be annoying!