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.