Olecranon Fracture: Part One

I've decided to keep track of my progress after my elbow break. Party because I think it'll be a good way for me to, well, keep track of things; party because it might help with the frustration I'm going through; and partly because someone who breaks their elbow might find some comfort in reading that they're not the only one who thinks they’ll never bend their arm again.

It's approaching the two month anniversary of my accident, and I'm incredibly frustrated, sad, and concerned about my elbow mobility. As it is now, I lack 30° when extending my arm, and 45° when flexing. I can't brush my teeth, wash my hair, eat, etc., and trying to use my crooked arm normally to do simple things, like pick something up off the floor, is incredibly awkward. The surgeon seemed really quite apprehensive when I asked him if I'd be able to touch the back of my head, but the physiotherapist said it's too early to say. Healing takes a long time, and she rarely sees such serious cases leave her centre. My first group therapy session was last week, and while I was by far the worst off, I did see improvement within the hour. That of course stiffens back up again over the day, but the fact is that it can move more. And will move more. 

OK, so back story. 

On October 19th 2015, I was cycling home from work at about 4.30pm, wondering whether we should have cold sausages for dinner or if I could be bothered to cook the salmon in the fridge. I went to overtake another cyclist, and at that exact moment, the powers that be decided that the woman in the car alongside us would swing her car door open, putting it directly in my path. Although a split second must have passed, I remember thinking three things. 1) this is going to be more that just a tumble; 2) there's absolutely nothing I can do to avoid this; and 3) Nooooooo. I don't remember the accident at all, but I did hear my head (in a helmet), hit the ground before rolling to a sitting position smack bang in the middle of the bike path. I knew instantly that something was wrong. Fast forward to hospital, and yes, broken elbow. By now they had given me some drugs - no idea what - so the news didn't really bother me too much. Bit of a shame, but broken limbs are never that bad, right? Op, cast, cast off, good to go. At least, that's what I thought. 

I had four hours of surgery, and two nights in hospital before I was sent home with a lot of morphine. I slept a lot for the first few days, then just looked forward to getting the cast off. Let me give you a general time frame. 

October 19th 2015: accident 

About 4 hours after the accident. Still pretty positive - enough to think that I should take a photo of it all. Wedding ring was some serious work to get off, but off it did come, thanks to a persistent nurse

The break

October 21st: surgery. More complicated break than originally though. The olecranon had broken into two different pieces, as well as being detached from the ulna. Nerve block, full anaesthesia, and lots of morphine. 

Two pins, a tension band, and two screws, which are quite rarely used in broken elbows

My cast. Solid on the underneath, soft on top. First time in a cast for me, so learning how to shower and so on was interesting. Sleeping was a nightmare

November 4th: cast off

Having my cast off was awful. No one told me I wouldn't be able to move my arm. It was such a shock I had to put my head between my knees!

November 10th: ergo therapy appointment. Got a load of exercises to do 3 rounds of 10 reps each, 3 times a day. 

November 19th: first physio. Basically said follow the exercises, what you're feeling and the limit of mobility is perfectly normal, don't worry. 

November 23rd: second physio. Same as above. Also said that until the x-ray on the 4th to check if the bone has healed, I couldn't put too much pressure on movement. 

December 4th: follow-up x-ray. Bone had healed, but the surgeon's face was pretty upsetting. He didn't seem to be overly enthusiastic about the future. Had my work Christmas party that evening so got drunk. 

December 8th: ergo therapist, referred back to physio. 

December 10th: first group physical therapy session. 

And here we are. I can see minor, minor improvements from last week, but the idea that I'll be able to eat an apple with my right hand one day seems more like a daydream. I don't see how I'll get any further. It's really hard. I'm used to be very active, but haven't done any exercise since the accident. I could probably get back in the gym now, but between a one year old baby, job, and things taking three times as long as before, I just don't have the time or - more importantly - the right attitude. Christmas is just around the corner so it seems a bit futile now anyway. At least I have my NYE resolution cut out for me. 

So that's where I am now. Feeling pretty sorry for myself if I'm honest. Group physio is every Tuesday and Thursday, and I'm looking forward to this week. I really hope there's at least a a degree of improvement, although I'm trying not to get my hopes up. Millimetre by millimetre, it'll come back. I hope. 

In Defence of CrossFit

Despite wanting to write this post for a long time, I’ve only just sat down to begin now. The reason? Rebecca Adlington. Specifically this letter to Rebecca from Laurie Penny.  For those of you who don’t know, Rebecca Adlington is a retired Olympic swimmer. She won two gold medals at the 2008 Olympic Games and two bronze medals at the 2012 Olympics in London. She, together with Katherine Grainger, is Great Britain’s most decorated female Olympian. Basically, she’s incredible. But In 2013, she went on ‘I’m a Celebrity...Get Me Out of Here!’, and thus went from a role model and national treasure, loved and held in high regard by the British public, to a victim of narrow minded, shallow internet trolls.

Rebecca Adlington

In I’m a Celebrity, she starred alongside beauty model Amy Willerton, and the public, being the fickle mass it so often is, saw this as an opportunity to compare the two, and bully, tease and taunt Rebecca from behind the safety of a computer screen. Granted, as she said, she has always struggled with her self esteem, and being around a bikini clad model 24 hours a day certainly didn’t help. She even admits to being concerned about her looks at the Olympics, worrying that people would judge her on how she looks rather than her performance.

In Laurie Penny’s letter to Rebecca she says, “By the way, Becky, you're beautiful. I'm not sure if I should say so, because the whole point is that whether or not a woman is good-looking should not determine her value as a person. No, you don't look like a catwalk model, and you never will, and if you did you probably wouldn't have had the success you've had as a swimmer. But I happen to think that your strong, powerful athlete's body is desperately sexy, and I'm sure I'm not the only one.”

Talking about strong women is something I’m seeing more and more of. Yes, it’s probably because I like a lot of CrossFit pages on Facebook so articles pop up in my feed relatively regularly, but it doesn’t matter if they’re all written by CrossFitters; what matters is that the common understanding of what ‘feminine’ is, or what a woman should look like, is being challenged. We’re seeing more physically strong women than ever before.

We’ve been told for decades that women with muscles 'look like men' or are unattractive. There’s too much ‘why would they do that to themselves’, or ‘they don’t look like real women’ going around. I’m not sure what a ‘real woman’ is, and I presume that women ‘do that to themselves’ for exactly the same reason that men ‘do that to themselves’. CrossFit isn’t just about muscle though, it’s about fitness; running, swimming, weights, rowing - you name it, CrossFit does it. And it’s also not just about fitness; it’s about community. It’s about fun, admiration and acceptance.

Not me, unfortunately, but Jessica Ennis

For me (and I’d be curious to know if this is a common view) it wasn’t until the London 2012 Olympics that the tide really began to change towards women and the athletic body (let’s face it, people put Sporty Spice in a box). Perhaps it was down to Jessica Ennis, our great medal hope and the woman on whose shoulders London 2012 rested. She delivered, and we loved her for it. Suddenly, her incredible, athletic body was everywhere. She was sporty, she was beautiful and she was British. Suddenly, being a woman who was into sports didn’t automatically slap labels on you. So what went wrong with Rebecca? As far as I can tell, it’s because she has a swimmer’s body, i.e. broad shoulders and more bulk than Jessica. She doesn’t fit into the box -  which Jessica does more so - despite her body and sport.

It was around this time I began CrossFit. I was pretty much hooked straight away. I began to follow groups and pages, and other online communities. There was a sense of community I had never experienced before and a completely sense of respect between everyone - no matter what country, age, sex, religion, or race. You go to a CrossFit class to get fit. End of story. I began to see incredibly fit, athletic and muscular women who were (are!) absolutely beautiful.

Andrea Ager

I began to read articles about the CrossFit woman, like this great paragraph, “Crossfit has created a breed of women who aren’t afraid of lifting weights, or getting out of breath. A woman that doesn’t mind chalk under her nails, and her calluses and bruised shins are proof of her strength, determination and fitness. She knows the names of all the Olympic lifts and doesn’t need a man’s help to put her bar back into the rack, or anything else for that matter. Crossfit has taken down the “reserved” sign and opened up a third option for women who have decided that skinny, frail and nymph just isn’t their body type. Welcome to the world of the Crossfit chick: mum or student, professional or labourer, young or old- athletes.” Or this; “Something amazing is happening around the world! The eyes of women (and men) are being opened to the elephant in the room when it comes to women and their body shape, ability and strength, and for this Crossfit should be exalted.

Jackie Perez

I began to follow online communities where people share their thoughts, their worries and their progress, and watched as everyone in the community rallied around them, gave advice, encouraged and congratulated them. I started to see - and am still seeing - more and more women, proud of their strength, or starting out, curious about what their bodies can do, eager to leave their heels in the changing room and sweat it out, climbing ropes, throwing wall balls, and gasping after countless burpees. It is, to be frank, liberating.

So it angers me when I read articles that dismiss CrossFit as a dangerous fad, a form of exercise that promotes injury, and even liken it to cockfighting. What these people fail to realise is (among other things), that within any sport - even bricklaying - are idiots. These range from those people who pump themselves full of steroids, to those people who don’t listen to their body. Now this is a whole other debate, as I know that in order to push past your best weights and times, you have to push yourself. Personally, I’m not out to compete, and while I do enjoy beating my personal best, I will always put my health first. I think that goes for most people - regardless of what sport they do. The people who push themselves so far that they fall prey to Rhabdomyolysis have only themselves to blame, most certainly not CrossFit, and despite what you read, Uncle Rhabdo is not a mascot.

Julie Foucher

They are right about one thing though - CrossFit is just another sport. I’ve never been involved with any other sport outside of school, but I should imagine that there are communities just like those of CrossFit all over the world, where people are kind, supportive and love what they do. They might also promote women's involvement. I hope so.

I hope that when the next generation gets to my age, strong women aren’t a taboo. That women like Jessica Ennis and Rebecca Adlington are seen as the beautiful, athletic women they are, no matter what their body shape.