how my spine is goeth, & p-r-o-c-e-d-u-r-e-s
I’m really sorry for not posting for a while, folks. It’s been a tremendous week both in terms of busy-ness and personal turmoil, and I just didn’t feel the energy nor inspiration to blog. You already probably know that I’ve been suffering from a significant back injury for coming onto 7 months now, and it’s really affected my everyday living plus my professional life as a dancer, dance teacher, and owner of a dance school.
Many of you have been asking me for the results from my new surgeon (that I saw 2 weeks ago), and I promise I will get into that in a couple of days – suffice to say that it’s not the really awful news, but it’s certainly bad enough to make me have spent a lot of time in this past week trying to understand the realities of it, trying to come to some decisions about dancing and my dance school, with the new knowledge and reality of what it all is. It’s going to be a long slow recovery, and I truly need to give it a fighting chance to heal if I want to live a normal life again, with my normal career and all.
Plus, ON TOP of the above bad spine news, it’s been a rather intense week with highs and lows -
- A day after receiving my medical results, some lovely hater from the salsa scene decided to use FB as a means to try and denounce me, once again. Incredible stuff, being somewhat bullied and defamed online for NO reason, just as I was keeping a low profile online due to my trying to deal with my news and make some dancing decisions, and logged in only to see this rubbish going on. This HASN’T endeared me to staying in the dance scene, and is a reminder of just how poor human behavior can sink.
- But in contrast, the highs, oh joy, this week I also got to put so much energy into training 2 gorgeous couples on my team and some teams with their brand new routines which are so smashing and the pride that ensued was incredible, reminding me of the sheer joy dance, choreographing and teaching gives me.
- I’ve also had to plan for Spin City Dance’s 4th anniversary party (which is tonight!) and this brought upon so much emotion that I have no idea how I could ever quit. My baby, my dance school, my business I started with just a few thousand dollars, and we’re 4 years old, with our own gorgeous building, a staff team that dazzles, and contributing so amazingly to the Australian Latin Dance scene.
So bittersweet, to be celebrating this and not knowing where the way forward is in my own ability to continue dancing. I’m confused, folks, so excuse the next week or 2 of me trying to get through this fog.
ANYWAYS, I’m trying to bring you up to speed with my P-R-O-C-E-D-U-R-E, so, in the midst of all this, to kick start the healing process, my surgeon recommended an epidural “procedure” for my spine.
I really hate that anything remotely unpleasant done to someone by a doctor is referred to as a “procedure”. Now, I know this turn of phrase is so it doesn’t sound all OOH AHH BAD AWFUL THINGS, but to someone who is horribly averse to anything needle related, and when all my family lives in a different country and can’t be with them in this tough time, it’s all been a bit scary.
Yesterday, I booked into the absolutely amazing Olympic Park Radiology, and their team of doctors were just heroes. I am horrifically afraid of needles. And an epidural one, not a regular stick-it-in-take-it-out-there-you’re-done one. I’m so terrified, that the doctor started explaining what they were about to do, and tears started rolling down my cheek like a poor orphan child. It would’ve been funny, the drama of it all, if I wasn’t seriously so scared I nearly pooped myself. I’m not even exaggerating.
<a href="Patient Getting Bad News">Source</a>
Basically, first they sedated me in a huge way (to the point where I was seriously having a party in there all by myself, the nurses were giggling at the transformation from clammy crying girl to WOOSA ROCK ON girl), then they took a CT scan of my spine. They marked off where the epidural needle was to go in, then positioned it all. Stuck needle in, took another CT scan, patted me, cooed, and all this time, I was HAVING A PARTY people, as in, they could’ve put music on and I would’ve danced, I was that out of it.
When they finally got the position right (2 goes), they inserted the needle 5.5cm into my spine, filled it with a pocket of anesthetic, and then pumped me full of cortisone. That was the weirdest feeling in the world – because my disc is impinging directly on my leg nerves, the cortisone literally felt like my legs were being filled with gas. Like at the gas station. Cue Sharon giggling uproariously, crying out “THIS FEELS SOOOOO WEEEIIIIRDDDD DUDE.”
To his credit, the amazing doctor agreed with me, going “I KNOW SO COOL HUH, KEEP INHALING ON THAT SEDATIVE STUFF!” And I am nothing, if not obedient with charming men with British accents.
It was all over in about half an hour and they gave me timtams, a cup of tea and made me stay in their hospital bed until the come down from the sedatives happened.
(HILARITY – I had to sign a consent form saying I would not drive a car, operate heavy machinery, drink alcohol or make any big decisions 24 hours after the p-r-o-c-e-d-u-r-e).
I guess that means no making any teary alcohol-fueled decisions about the dancing until tomorrow.
S got me home pretty quickly, and apparently I swayed back and forth from being incredibly chirpy to teary and scared, all the way home. A few hours after I got home, the pain started. The doctor had warned me about this – apparently I may be in MORE pain than I had been for 36-48 hours after it all. Joy, those of you who have seen me with pain/painkillers will understand this means NO HAPPINESS.
And the pain, it’s been bad. Spent the evening last night crying, yelling, screaming, and generally hurling epithets at my SAINT of a man, from the shooting pains down my legs, the back, the hips. S ran around generally trying to soothe me, but realised the futility when he offered me ice cream and I told him what him and his ice cream could go do to itself (and it wasn’t a very nice thing at all). The doctor said I would be woozy/sleepy for 2 days – well he lied, I didn’t get to sleep till 2am and then eyes came open startledly at 6am from the pain restarting its epic ravaging of me and my body.
Today I’m in less pain (not crying or shrieking) but definitely have my jaw clenched shut firmly and my brow furrowed (S told me I was going to get wrinkles and I didn’t even CARE). I’m really hoping to make it to the studio tonight if only for an hour – the doctor told me VERY firmly that I was to spend the entire weekend lying down, and not doing ANYTHING, like not even out for a gentle coffee.
I’m also really aware that this isn’t a fix – it’s a 2 week pain-relief solution, and will allow me to swim everyday and get some physio down to heal a bit more, so needless to say my mind isn’t in a great place. I don’t know where I’ll be in 4 weeks, or 6 months, and truth be told, am a bit anxious about the number of decisions I have to make and the impacts they may potentially have on the dance scene I’ve been a part of for coming on 9 years, and my dance school with its fabulous teams. I’m scared of the difficulty of it all, and terrified of some of the ideas that have come flying out in my low moments.
And that’s where I am.
I’m sorry I don’t have anything happier to say – I do, I have great news, some nice blog posts lined up, some collaborations I want to share with you, and some more constructive ways to put forth the ideas that I have for the future with an exciting new business project – but for now, I thought it was important to let you all know how I’m going (since i haven’t been able to respond to the incredible deluge of well-wishes).
If you have ANY thoughts or ideas for me, I’d LOVE to hear them. AND I really hope those of you in Melbourne can make it down to the Spin City 4th Birthday bash tonight, we’d love to see you there. Truly.
I’d really like to finish off this epic lengthed (if you’ve made it thus far) post with this quote, from Frank Sinatra:
“Those who have talent must hug it, embrace it, nurture it and share it lest it be taken away from you as fast as it was loaned to you.
Trust me. I’ve been there.”
Love,
me, the pain, the supposed killers of them, and my extremely poor state of mind.
Read More
2010 Redux – An Open Letter
Dear 2010,
As the world around me prepares for New Year’s Eves festivities to say a dastardly goodbye to you, I’m taking a moment to reflect: you have been a huge mixed bag for me. I can safely say there’s never been a year where I felt quite so on top, and quite so low, all at once. Let me explain, 2010, why I don’t hate you (but have a cautious relationship with you):
Here was 2010:
This year, I travelled a lot, particularly in the first half of the year. I finally got to see India, one of my “homelands”. I went to Bali twice, Malaysia twice, and was in Singapore every 2-3 months on average. I was interstate so often (every 3-4 weeks) that my Australia wide salsa family has never seemed so close, or as wonderful. This was so nice, years of being in such a small scene have brought some of us industry leaders together in such a wonderful way, every trip though work based, has felt like a holiday with friends.
This year, I’ve had lots of visitors too, visitors that meant the world to me – Sheila for a month, my mummy when I needed her most, my Aunty and my cousin whom I adore oh so very much. Those visits inevitably left me feeling more and more like Melbourne and Singapore are both tandem homes, and like my life here wasn’t isolated from my loved ones, but shared in lovely ways.
This year, I got injured a lot. A pinched nerve in my neck/shoulder at the start of the year, a torn ankle ligament mid year, and then the most devastating of all, a prolapsed disc that was pretty serious but luckily escaped surgery. I spent 4 months of 2010 either in bed, or in a catatonic painkiller-induced stupor, unable to drive, commute, work, dance or travel. It wasn’t fun, it made me depressed, and has pretty much killed the dancing career I had. It really felled me, this injury, and I missed many events, including competitions that my teams apparently placed in (!!), half a best friend’s wedding, and more. I was cared for wonderfully by my friends and S, but nothing in my life had prepared me for this. I’m still coming out of it – there are bad days and good days, but I can drive, I can walk, I can do most things now as long as I take it easy and slow – and for this I am grateful.
This year was when we moved into our “forever home” and for the first time ever, entered home ownership with my beautiful man – and it has funnily enough been in tandem the worst time of my life (injury) and best time (home!). Our relationship has grown incredibly through the entire process, and we go to sleep each night expressing to each other just how blessed we are to share a beautiful home, with each other.
This year, I truly learnt what it feels like to build a future with someone, have experienced true love, have felt that wonderful settled heart inside of me. I’ve learnt to live with teenagers which is an evolving journey. I’ve been welcomed wholeheartedly into S’s family, a wonderful thing since mine is so strongly held in my mind! I’m slowly becoming stronger, and grateful that I have a beautiful space to recover in. I said goodbye to my bachelorette pad of 7 years – where most of my 20s happened, filled with so many incredible memories of debauchery, gatherings, parties, family time, cookups, and more, but moved into my forever home, what a trade!
This year, I decided having a job wasn’t enough, and that having passion in my career was incredibly important. I had insightful conversations with some mentor-like people, for whom I must thank profusely – realising ultimately, what my strengths and callings were, I found the strength to quit my job and pursue my consultancy dreams instead. It’s still slowly coming together, but golly, what a great decision – given the chance to work a job or help people fulfil their capabilities? I choose the latter. Haven’t looked back.
This year, the quitting job thing meant that after 3 years of 17 hour days (day job and then business from 6-10pm every night plus weekends and travel) – I was able to sit back and evaluate. There was no reason to punish my body like that, and even less reason when my health was constantly in flux, my head and heart always a buzz of confusion, and my relationships and friendships suffered due to my absence. This wasn’t the life I wanted, but it took stopping for me to realise that. 2010 was the turning point – I was going to seek the life I wanted without the mayhem.
This year, I learnt to care for myself. To eat right, to be inspired regularly, to see beauty in all around. To celebrate being a woman and my femininity, to understand my body better, to be more in tune with my emotions, my needs, and lifestyle. To be frank with loved ones, to seek healthier relationships, and have the energy to ignore ones fraught with unhappiness. It’s made me a happier person, and I know this will continue now as it has become a way of life.
This year was somewhat drama filled – I was treated by some people from various parts of my life, poorly. I’d never felt so much like I was back in high school being bullied, but I reflect and am proud of my actions, reactions. Drama always happens, it’s the nature of humans, but this year I felt equipped to handle it, with grace, dignity and some humour! I’m glad to be entering my 30th year feeling like I can take whatever any human being throws at me, because of my innate strength and belief in myself. I’m especially glad to have learnt the ultimate skills – of not hurting others just because they’ve hurt you. Of removing myself from the drama. Of staying professional.
This year, I was recognised in my dancing career in ways I never felt before. I’d received accolade and opportunities before that reflected this aspect of my career, but this year, something changed. Feedback from world-renown, respected people, came in droves. Positive affirmation that I was doing well in my business, in our school, in my own dancing. Invitations and offers that blew me away. That made all the things I sometimes have to deal with here in our small dance scene, worthwhile. That made all the ridiculous “tall poppy” type assertions that have at times been unfairly thrown at me, moot.
After so many years of being in the salsa scene, after exactly a decade from my first ever dance lesson, so many years of maintaining my outward exterior whilst in turmoil inside over the vagaries and politics of the scene. So many years of learning, trying so hard, and trying to teach well, all this affirmation was so welcome. The bonus was that it came from everywhere. Yes, we were doing something right. Plus, watching my students excel on a national stage, watching my school grow and watching my team explode with richness - this all was a gift.
This year, I’ve learnt where my support systems are, and am incredulous at just how far reaching and huge my network of love is. In various times of adversity, an unprecedented number of people from far and wide have supported me, assisted me, kept my spirits high, and generally left me wondering how it is that I could be this lucky. Thank you everyone. Truly.
This year, I’ve grown. This is all I can take away from a year that has been at once blessed and brutal. I’ve been humbled by the wonderful things that I’ve been fortunate to experience, receive, and have, angry and sad at the whipping that my body has taken, deliriously happy to have been so close to my family and friends, reflective upon circumstances that I couldn’t change, and hopefully, through it all, been a pleasant person to know. (I take no responsibility for the moments when I was all painkillered up.)
This year, I’ve been enriched by the people around me, have blossomed through new life changes, matured through difficult circumstance. I have grown more into my own skin, and accepted a lot more of myself and human beings around me. I am happier than I was, infinitely so, despite physical circumstance. My heart has swelled, my brain has been nourished, and my life has developed in ways I couldn’t have imagined or planned on 31 Dec 2009. And now that I’m officially almost that stupid number age that no woman wants to think about (hint, it rhymes with “dirty” for a reason) - it’s certainly nice to feel like I’m coming of age.
Most of all 2010, you taught me a lot about being alive, and truly, that I can conquer anything. 2011, give me all you’ve got. I have no plans or expectations – your friend 2010 taught me the folly of that way of thinking! Just bring it, and bring it good!
xo
Shan
Read Morethe saga of my spine, le update
Most of you know by now that I’ve been injured for the last couple of weeks. A slipped disc, how utterly glorious for a dancer! This has meant that I’ve been pretty quiet on several fronts – social, professional and more, and I figured it was time for le update on le situation. Today I’m having a good day (pain has been managed well) so in a good frame of mind to discuss this. I cannot however promise that I won’t burst into internet-tears halfway so it would be nice if you could ensure some tissues and rage management meds are handy! Hello insanity!
So. What’s been happening in my life? Well to tell the truth, not much at all. I’ve been pretty much lying in bed for 2 weeks. Yes, I can get up and move around. Yes, I can look after myself. Yes, I can do things. But. And this is a huge but – I can’t do much for more than 30 minutes at a time whilst upright. At this stage, sitting up hurts after 30 minutes, as does standing and walking and moving around. Most things are still too heavy, like the kettle when filled, the frying pan, the 2litre bottle of milk. You get the idea.
When I do move around, I’m so far up to about 2 hours of mild, very mild activity, before collapsing in a heap, disoriented, in relentless pain, and so exhausted I can (and usually do) sleep for a long long time. Sometimes I pick up the phone and dial S or one of my friends and babble tearily. Needless to say, it’s not ideal for daily living, or indeed much fun or fabulousness at all. 2 weeks of this and I am officially over it – everything taking much longer, simple things like taking a shower or making a simple meal exhausting me, and the reality that my days are half spent lolling about feeling mentally alert but physically dead.
I AM getting better though, and can feel it. I can increasingly (by a few minutes each time) do a bit more, stay standing/sitting a bit longer, feeling brave enough to try something new. Most times I’m punished by the pain that creeps up, feeling like a 100kg man is determinedly climbing up onto my back and bouncing up and down, demanding attention. Hi Mr Climber! I’m begging you – please stop bothering me!
Mentally and emotionally, it has been exhausting not just for me, but I’m hyper aware that it’s been a burden for all those around me. It has been immensely difficult realising that daily life is no longer an option, that I can’t plan my future weeks, that no one can give me a time frame for recovery because it varies so much from person to person. The frustration from not being able to do basic things has been overwhelming. Having to reach out to my friends and ask so much of them has been embarrassing – I know it’s what they’re my friends for but it’s still heart wrenching being this needy. Having to be so unsure about my dancing future has been the hardest – this is something I’m absolutely not ready to talk about.
A setback this week didn’t help. Everything was feeling so much better – I was more mobile, had my pain under great management, and could sit up for up to 45 minutes, so on Monday decided to try going into work for a couple of hours. This was a huge mistake – the sharp pains going down my hip and leg all night told me so. The doctor told me so. A relapse is not what I needed, but it happened. If not better by next week my doctor is considering an epidureal injection, the thought of which puts me in such conniptions that I swear it’s spasming up my back even more just thinking about it.
I am incredibly lucky. I have a team keeping my dance school going, an amazingly capable team whom I can entrust all students to. I have the best posse of girlfriends who come over, bustle, never let me get too morose, help me clean my apartment and ensure I have food and emotional well being.
House filled with gorgeous well wishes
Anita came and cheered me up by practicing new hair styles on captive me!
Ps, that last photo? That is what it looks like in Casa de Sharon, everyday at the moment. Charming.
I have well meaning friends and students and colleagues from around Australia who have bolstered me with their messages of support and encouragement. I have the best partner anyone could ask for, who juggles his own hectic life and mine too whilst being loving and caring and frankly, still surprisingly attracted to this lolling, skinny, birds-nest-haired mess that resides perpetually on the living room floor and makes squawking whinger noises.
Also, strictly for your entertainment, on Sunday I decided to cut my own hair in an effort to feel a BIT more feminine and pretty than I have been. When I went into work on Monday I took a photo (since I, shock & horror, wasn’t wearing pyjamas and was actually semi-presentable, the effort of which by the way, was debilitating). Self hair cut didn’t turn out so bad, methinks.
The Good Drugs make me a talented Fringe Cutter!
Please ignore the fact that almost straight after this, Mr Pain came back and I had to go home whimpering.
So it could all be worse. And lots of people have been through much worse. And I’m lucky. And I hope anyone else with a bad back reads this and has some understanding from it – I know I keep badgering my doctor and physio with the “is this normal? can this possibly take this long? how can this be normal?” questions. Yes. They tell me this is normal. But guys, keep rooting for it to get better ok?
Hope you liked the update! Happy happy posts with our trip photos coming soon I promise!
Read Moredon’t hold me back.
Yes ok, that was a pun, and a very poor one at that. I guess cryptic tweets and facebook status updates are really not the way to do this anymore. After a glorious 2 week trip, this is the last thing I want to blog about but it’s important for my own catharsis and to get everyone understanding why it is I’ve been a hermit upon my return to sunny Melbourne. Yes, that was another joke, the coldness of this damn city is killing me. What I would do for the tropics right now.
I’m highly emotionally volatile this week, and it’s because 2010, you have just about slain me with infliction of injuries. At the start of the year it was a pinched nerve in my neck that took weeks to treat to wellness. Just 2 months ago, I tore my ankle ligament, putting grave fears that I wouldn’t be able to dance for a long time in my heart (and my dance partner’s!). Luckily with solid treatment and the mother of all braces, I was able to perform, perhaps not to perfection, but to satisfaction, on my overseas trips. In ugly flat shoes. Uh huh. But still, everything till now has seemed a mere trip up in the journey of my dancing. And now? Probably the most dreaded injury of all. You see, you can operate on knees, heal ligaments and broken bones eventually, even strengthen dislocated limbs. I’ve done all of those at various stages and always bounced back. This is the first time I literally feel like I can’t, and may not.
So when I got back from the airport on Wednesday, I had a bit of a cough. I’m not talking a hacking, thumping on the back requiring cough, I’m talking a very ladylike KOFFKOFF. And all of a sudden my back seized up. I’d been feeling its soreness for a few days in India already, but this was nothing like soreness, it was acute pain. I called out for Steve and said “Honey, this doesn’t feel so good.”
I spent the next 24 hours in a state of flux and pain – but knowing that sometimes backs do get thrown out, they just need rest, I just needed to give it time. However I’d never been in this much pain before – not through fractured bones, knee operations or ligament issues in my ankle. Movement was highly restricted, as almost anything caused searing pain right in my lower spine. I couldn’t sit, move forward or well, do anything.
On Friday I got an appointment with yet another of the wonderful doctors at the Olympic Park Medical Centre – these guys are not only awesome, they are also starting to get to know me, ALL of them, through all my various injuries! Bonus! The only thing bad is that these guys treat all manner of athletes and truly know their injuries.
As soon as my doctor pronounced the words “slipped disc“, the tears started streaming down my cheeks. I’ve never been so glad to have Steve sitting in a doctor’s office with me as then. He explained to me all the implications, the treatments possible, the risk factors, all the while handing me tissues and watching me silently weep. All that was going through my head was “this is it“. I was soooo mortified but couldn’t help it – I’d just had it with waiting rooms, doctors, and pronouncements of me not dancing anymore. He was delightful about it and pretended like there wasn’t a loony bin sitting in front of him collapsing into a whirlwind of emotions, but gosh it was awful.
Imagine feeling like you’re finally, after many years, becoming the dancer you have wanted to be, and have made the difficult and seemingly insane decision to quit your job, focus on your 2 passions in life, and LIVE your dream instead of trying to do it half heartedly whilst having a full time job. And life, instead of saying “YES, Go Forth! Pursue with Passion!”, instead rubs its hands together in glee and keeps sticking its foot out in the aisle to trip you over. And over. Oh, and over.
I know no one with a fully slipped disc (not spine PROBLEMS, but a disc that has prolapsed entirely) who has been able to resume to 100% of their ability. And certainly not quickly. And definitely not in dance, a sport that requires full use of your body. Plus, I don’t really have a year or two to recuperate – I’m almost 30. It’s time for me to do this NOW. As you might imagine, this has been a huge blow. My brother had a slipped disc. It made his life a misery.
To explain the crazy emotions I’ve been through in the last 2 days, exacerbated of course by the WOOSA inducing painkillers they’ve put me on, and the need to stay bed-bound for 3 days (because lying still is SO in my nature!), would give you an insight into the insanity that I’m not sure I want publicly displayed. But as ever, I am willing to be adventurous in my descriptions, so here goes.
I’m weepy. Leaking like a badly installed roof in a storm. Angry. Moping. Feeling like it’s hopelessly unfair. I’m discouraged. At times of real sinking, I think that there are sadly enough, people in the Melbourne salsa scene that may be happy this has happened to me. I’m also relieved sometimes, that it hasn’t hit the nerves in my legs, graced with blessings that mean I could potentially heal. Maybe. I’m frustrated. Sad. In a rage. I see colours and lights and happiness when the drugs are peaking and smile drunkenly and blabber lots and entertain anyone who’s online and up for a seemingly drunken chat. I’m sore from lying down. Standing up hurts. My body feels like it has snapped in half. Eyes hurt from crying. I’m alone. Living in a different country to my family and home has never felt so difficult.
I know logically that the only way is up. And my team has rallied together incredibly to ensure my two events this weekend go off without a hitch in my absence, as well as to make sure the school keeps running smoothly. My friends have been amazingly loving, supportive and all of it. My business partners have been so understanding. Steve, love of my life, has been a strength and pillar of support, and my family has been superb at long distance love. I realistically have a very good support system to get through this.
And I know it’s not entirely dire – I COULD bounce. If this first few days goes well and I lie and don’t move, it may heal. I am lucky. I have so much around me to be thankful for. I’m going to focus on allowing my loved ones into my life to help look after me instead of reclusing like a hermit (my first instinct when I’m injured). I’m going to blog. Lots. I’m going to do all the computer/accounting/admin type things for the studio I can whilst lying down. I’m going to plan my recovery. All the while, I’m going to allow the emotions and rage because it’s healthy (sorry in advance, my friends!). And try to ignore the pain, the pain, the pain that is all consuming.
If I am a recluse, if I don’t want to talk, forgive me. I have some very tough decision making to do in the next couple of days about my upcoming travel and events, about allowing my mum to come to Melbourne to tend to me, about how I’m not going to make Steve crazy as I’m a difficult patient. At this stage I’ve been told not to leave the house, to just lie flat, to not MOVE. And moving is painful – it literally feels like my body has been cut in half at the spine. Basic things like going to the bathroom, making a cup of tea, sitting up to eat, they hurt. And ashamed as I am to admit this, I’m not in a space (given it’s only been 24 hours since diagnosis) to hear about anyone else’s experiences, good or bad. I’m struggling, even if I’m having a moment of lucidity as I type this. I’m crying a lot. I’m sorry. It’s immature. But I need time with it all.
So I guess this is the end of the story. I haven’t not been able to type it all out in a coherent way, just an honest way. I promise to update again soon – I am aware of all the people friends, family out there who love me dearly and to whom I owe it to to keep updated. I am such a lucky girl who just feels momentarily kicked in the guts by life.
Read More
Who Is This Girl?
Tweet Tweet
Commentary: