Broken bones and the Buddha

Early November of last year, I was getting ready for bed on a Saturday evening and I slipped off a stair, fell backwards, and broke two ribs.

It was instant; no slow motion, no life flashing before my eyes; just suddenly lying on the stairs in pain. I knew immediately that I was in trouble, and I was MAD. I have hurt my ribs before, and I knew that I was about to be benched for the next few months; and yet, in that moment, I still had no idea what was in store for me.

I have never broken a bone like this before, and the shock to my system was immediate and immense. All my muscles clamped down to hold things in place, and my body was shivering due to the shock. My brain kept screaming, “no, no, NO!” And my life had completely changed in an instant.

The first few weeks were absolute survival mode. I used homeopathy and herbs to help calm the immediate shock response. I was on NSAID’s and muscle relaxers around the clock. I could barely move; laying down was impossible and getting up much worse. I had broken my two floating ribs in the back, which just happen to be intertwined with all the core muscles involved in bending, lifting, walking, twisting; and really, we don’t need to mention sneezing.

I kept telling myself, it could be worse: at least I didn’t break my teeth, or have a rib puncture my lung or liver, or even break a vertebra instead. Ribs are meant to protect our internal organs from trauma, and mine did their job perfectly. I was determined to heal quickly and get back in the saddle of life as fast as I could; “everyone will be amazed at how fast I heal!” I thought to myself.

But I was in pain. I was in a place I have never experienced. And I was really scared. I googled “how long for ribs to heal” about a thousand times. Each time calculating how many weeks it had been, and how far I had to go before this was all over. As we approached these imposed goals, I would worry that I’m not healed enough, and it would freak me out all over again. What if I don’t heal?

As a doctor, I would tell myself, don’t be ridiculous. Bodies are smart and magical, they can heal bones, heck, they can grow babies! And yet, every single day, I would ask my husband, “do you think my ribs will heal?” He always said yes and he never got tired of me asking. Finally, after 8 weeks of asking, I actually began to believe him. Something changed at this point, I gave in to the moment. I realized I couldn't rush it, no matter how hard I tried, no matter how many herbs or supplements I took, or how long I spent on the biomat (once I could lay flat). I stopped rolling my eyes each time my husband reminded me of the little wins I was making, like picking up the dog bowl, or laying on my side, or walking without limping. I realized that in order to heal I needed to trust that my body could do this, and let go of the impatience of needing to be back in the game and just live in the now. This is it, these months of my life still had meaning, and there may be many more than I first imagined before I could be able to hit the gym or the dojo. I had to accept this and live. Once I finally began trusting, the fear began to subside. Every crack and pop or pinch or spasm didn’t bring an immediate “OMG, what if?!” moment, and they started to become fewer and farther between.

I’m still not there, on that horse, but I know he will be there when I’m ready. Healing is not linear, it is ups and downs, but the ups get longer and longer. Each time I’m feeling a lot better, I go a week with no painkillers, I get ambitious and do something like vacuum or carry heavy groceries and I’m painfully reminded that I’m not there yet. It can be disheartening but now that I’ve given into the process, I’m better at letting it go and telling myself that this is just a really long process that is still moving in a healing direction. I’m grateful for my family and friends and all the support. It’s incredibly hard to sit back and not be as independent as I’m used to being and I can’t believe how much I just want to go shovel some snow. For now, I must take it easy and give my body what it needs and that includes time and trust.

Update: Not too long after this was written, xrays confirmed the bones had finally healed! With the help of acupuncture, PT, and lots of stretching, I was even able to get out on some cross country skis before the end of winter. I learned so much from this experience, and every bit of knowledge I take into the clinic to help patients, both physically AND spiritually.