Softly Softly Catchee Monkey

After a mixed response to last week’s slightly unorthodox blog entry (that took the guise of some fascinating discussions but also one or two yawns!), this week I return to more commonplace topics of Lymphoedema and exercise, or rather lack of exercise and too much oedema.  This is the eighth week since the injury to my knee forced me off my bike and into the pool. Since then I've covered almost 45 miles of swimming, spent hours in the weights room and have stubbornly endured almost 13 hours on the hand cycle. What should have taken 3 to 6 weeks at the most to heal has shifted expectations of normality and brought home how much things have changed since the lymphatic system in my right leg gave up the ghost.

To give my malfunctioning healing-system a much-needed boost, I had an injection in my knee around 10 days ago. The standard theory post an intervention of this type is 3 days of rest; I had 5 days off as a sort of ‘belt and braces’ approach and because we just don’t know what is ‘normal’ for me yet. Extremely tentatively, I have since started back training. Alternating between the cross-trainer and low wattage cycling, supplemented with yet more swimming, I have managed 20 minutes, then 30 minutes and am now progressing to 45 minutes back on the bike. Nervously I am monitoring every second, and there is still some soreness, but it is a different type of discomfort. A few years back after a heart-breaking Achilles injury that ruined my pretensions of being a competitive runner, I experienced a similar pain when I returned to the treadmill. Then it was just a case of the muscle memory hanging on to the pain sensation, and this time round I’m fervently hoping it is the same. So softly, softly I am following yet another rehab plan, and if I can survive this week unscathed, there will finally be a light at the end of the tunnel.

This will be just as well as during this injury period my ability to manage the lymphoedema has been woefully inadequate. Without the tool of exercise, lymph clearance has been pretty much nonexistent and my leg has swollen substantially, dealing another blow to my wretched mental state that has been under siege for a number of weeks now. Here too though, I see the light breaking through. My diagnosis of lymphoedema was delivered on December 14^th, and now almost four months later, next Wednesday 6^th April, I have finally arranged an appointment to see a Lymphoedema specialist in Brighton. This is the culmination of a good deal of effort in finding the right person to deal with and waiting while referrals are made, but it is quite a relief to have identified someone who has a wealth of experience in dealing with Lymphoedema. This means I can get properly measured and fitted with medical-grade compression hosiery, perhaps not the most aesthetically pleasing garments but significantly preferable to a distended and swollen limb which is the alternative! I should also be able to get a course of Manual Lymphatic Drainage, as and when needed, and be tutored in the skills of self-massage rather than replicating what I have read in a pamphlet. Moreover, it will be a comfort and encouragement to have someone to talk to on a semi-regular basis, who understands lymphoedema, and can guide me from a practical perspective on the management of the condition.

Don’t say it too loudly, but ‘softly softly’ could bring a fresh glow into my life next week, with a return to training and access to much-needed professional help on the Lymphoedema front too. Fingers crossed that it’s an easier roller to ride.

Natural Laws

It is not often that I talk about my work. Mostly this is because it’s quite difficult to explain what I do, that when I do it’s not easy to understand and more fundamentally it’s just not that interesting unless you are a maths or markets geek. However, currently there is some relevance, so the short of it is that I earn a living from meticulous analysis of the movements in price series in the financial markets. Using a number of proprietary mathematical models to map the characteristics of a series, I try to gain an insight into forthcoming price action. With my principles rooted in Gann analysis, one of the techniques I employ is the Law of Vibration.

This is a universal law, with many and varied applications. It refers to the premise that the essence of all things is vibration; that everything in the universe is composed of packets of energy and each of these vibrates at specific frequencies. In a pure form it is a simple process to map a standard vibration or oscillation about a stable equilibrium point, be it, for example, the periodic motion of a pendulum or the sine wave produced by a tuning fork.  Bizarrely, the law of vibration is often cited on self-help sites as an essential element of wealth creation, that successful and prosperous people have a common emotional frequency. It’s said that aspiring individuals only have to identify and adopt said frequency to change their lives and wealth. This is not something I buy into, but it does illustrate how natural or universal laws can be applied.

What is important to understand is that even within a system that is well documented, like the financial markets, there are shifts in the resonance or rhythm which alters the nature of the vibration, and this is where an analyst worth their salt will make their money. It’s knowing when the parameters have altered and adjusting accordingly.

The transition from a stable to an unstable system can have devastating effects, in physics terms this can be related to the difference between free vibration and forced vibration, when an unexpected shock is applied. In recent weeks we may all think that the world has gone mad, but perhaps it’s all down to a monumental force applied to an increasingly unstable new vibration mode. We have seen seismic shifts on a geopolitical level that have swept through the Arab world resulting in regime change in a number of countries and now the prospect of a conflict in Libya that has extended the reaches far beyond geographical limitations to the international world. The geophysical system has also been shaken to a new vibration period, amplitude and frequency by the recent earthquakes that have wrecked havoc and resulted in mind-boggling and heart-wrenching loss of life and livelihood in Japan and New Zealand, not forgetting the floods and cyclone that hit Australia. These disasters have shaken to the core the physical foundations of our natural world.

On a fractal level, my natural vibration has had an external force applied and my rhythm has been thrown off balance. I feel like bad luck is piling up, that not only have I had the diagnosis of lymphoedema, a condition that I’m going to have to deal with every day for the rest of my life, but to compound it, I have suffered a particularly nasty injury that means I can neither do the things I love, like cycling and running, nor can I manage as effectively the swelling in my leg.  Sometimes I just want to scream why me? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not comparing my situation with the suffering elsewhere in the world, on that scale it doesn’t even register, but to me it is not inconsiderable.

Looking forward, on a rational perspective, people in Japan, New Zealand and Australia will rebuild their physical lives; the nations whose political systems have been dismantled will also emerge with new governance and hopefully fledgling democracies will endure. I too will manage, adapt and move on. The law of vibration can be used as a vehicle for good; it’s up to me on a personal level to make sure this is the outcome that I achieve.

Wednesday’s Child

For those of you familiar with the nursery rhyme Monday’s Child, which tells a child's character or future based on the day they were born, you’ll know that “Wednesday's child is full of woe”. This is rather apt as I am a Wednesday Child and have been known to carry round my own little bag of woe. That’s not to say that I suffer from anything as serious as depression but I do sometimes just feel inherently sad. There is nothing specific that heralds its arrival or departure, nor is there any pattern to how long it may last; it is just something that I’ve learnt is a part of me.

Right now, I’m going through one of these episodes, hence the absence of a blog update for a couple of weeks. My time-honoured ‘coping’ strategy is to disconnect with the outside world until the view brightens, I tend to internalize rather than wanting to share. But I realise that if I’m going to be true to the blogging process, I should contribute when I’m feeling blue as well as when things are looking rosy.

Obviously my knee injury is a major factor in how I’m feeling. Not only is it incredibly frustrating and has completely destabilised my day-to-day equilibrium but it also means that I’m not getting my ‘happy fix’ of endorphins from the strenuous exercise that has been a part of my life for so long. Nor do I have the self-satisfied feeling of achievement when another training goal is attained. The injury is probably the worst I have suffered, ever, not in terms of severity but in that it is particularly pernicious and has persisted for so long. There is still no end in sight and even with all the treatments my physio is throwing at it, we are still looking at weeks before my knee is fully rehabilitated. Tentatively we’ve attempted a couple of efforts of very gentle cycling but these have led to post-exercise pain and have obviously been premature. So I’m forced to process another delay, and to wade through another cycle of anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance. I feel like I’m in mourning, and when I put it like this, it’s not such a surprise that I feel so sad. In the bigger scheme of things I’m incredibly fortunate and have so much to be thankful for, this especially on a day when another natural disaster has devastated large swathes of Japan, but mentally I am weary and am carrying a heavy heart.

Interestingly though I did have an enlightening and edifying experience this week when I was lucky enough to have a consultation with Prof Peter Mortimer, who is considered to be the leading clinician in the UK in the field of Lymphoedema management.

Until this appointment I'd been floundering around with regards to the specifics of my condition; sure I'd read all I could and had gleaned and applied those parts that I considered relevant but had had little help from my local resources. Unfortunately there isn't a Lymphoedema clinic in Brighton and although my consultant requested a referral to the community nurse over a month ago, I'm still waiting to hear back.

This lack of support is something that a great many Lymphoedema sufferers encounter and they often feel isolated and forgotten in the system following their diagnosis. Certainly I've been left to fend for myself for the three months since my diagnosis. Everyone close to me has done a great job in helping me find things out but at times it has in truth been a case of the blind leading the blind.

To have access to a respected expert was a genuine coup. I had been pinning a lot of hopes on my meeting with Prof Mortimer. Coach Helen came along too so we could cover all the angles from an athletic / physiological perspective as well as the day to day advice that I needed, and neither of us were disappointed. He was at great pains to explain in layman terms how the lymphatic system works and what dysfunction means, and more specifically what the implications are for me. He spoke with genuine interest and a desire to help me, and I really felt at ease with him. We found out that my lymphoedema should have little or no impact on my athletic performance, and that I should not need to compromise on the higher intensity workouts that are an essential part of preparing to race.  All this was very encouraging. He is also going to put me in touch with a Lymphoedema specialist in my area for the day to day tasks. After a very productive discussion we agreed to meet again in a few months time; quite a fillip to have someone of such high regard interested in my case.

Ironically, it was a remark by Prof Mortimer that brought home how Lymphoedema is changing my life. I mentioned my knee injury and speculated whether the swelling around my knee may have played a part in throwing the tracking out. He thought this unlikely but did suggest that the healing process would be compromised. In hindsight, this is now obvious. Without a functioning lymphatic system, my body will struggle to heal the inflammation and repair the damage. What would take a ‘normal’ athlete six weeks to recover from is going to be far longer for me. This explains why my knee is taking an age to mend, and also that this process is going to go on for a while.  

Strangely, knowing that my rehab from my knee injury could take a lot longer has, if anything made me more sanguine. My only concern is whether I’ll be fit enough to ride London to Paris this summer, but Helen assures me I’ll be fine. I just need to wait for the cloud to lift, for my knee to mend, and then I’ll be back.