It’s been 8 weeks since I was first admitted into the hospital emergency room with a debilitating mysterious foot swelling.
In my mind, my 35-year-old Appalachian Trail dream was fading as slowly as the time passed during my 42 days in bed! My mental health took a hit big time as my lifelong dream appeared to be crashing and burning without any hope of the medical Calvary riding over the hill to my aid.
During those long hours reflecting, what else could I do? I tortured myself with thoughts of regret. Had I waited too long to live my dream? Was my body failing to the point of no return?
If I could only go back in time to tell my 22-year-old self to hike your hike NOW because it could be too late post-60!
Then as suddenly as the NASTY arrived, my messed up feet began to improve. 6 weeks to the day of my first pains I was able to bear weight and walk unassisted. At 7 weeks I was able to walk around the block, and at 8 later I could walk a few kilometres. 🙂
The diagnosis is still unclear, however, based on all the evidence from X-rays, CT scans, ultrasounds, bone scans, blood tests for Lyme disease and all sorts of other nasties, PLUS a smorgasbord of pharmaceuticals … the conclusion is …. LIKELY… wait for it…. some UNKNOWN autoimmune arthritis. There are some more specific likely suspects, however no conclusions.
Bottom line – I’m healing!
So with guarded optimism, I’ve convinced myself that my AT dreams LIVE again. Now it’s time to hit the gym and trails to condition and shed those 10 pounds that accumulated on my ass during my 8 weeks of self-pity, eating and forced bed-surfing.
Bring it on!