Every day I am reminded what it feels like to feel pain. Sometimes the pain is so intense it takes my breath away. It can make me feel nauseous and it has me close to tears. But, and a big BUT, this very pain and the circumstances around it are what help me be who I am and achieve what I have achieved. It does not stop me running and it does not stop me leading a very active and exciting life. It just hurts a lot and has taught me a lot about managing pain and about digging deep. The human mind and body have phenomenal depth and I for one know that I have not yet dug deep enough to get right to the core and beyond....
My pain stems from an ankle injury as a child that was misdiagnosed. A compound fracture went untreated, resulting in bone, ligament and cartilage degrading over a 16 year period. By the time the MRI scan identified the full extent of the damage it was too late for a large section of bone, most of the cartilage and all three ligaments. Years of chronic ankle instability had further worsened the original injury. The blood supply within the joint had been severed and dead bone and tissue existed within.
The first operation cleaned up the joint, drilling through the bone helped create scar tissue which now acts as cartilage. The second and third operations performed further re constructive work on the bone and ligaments. Further operations will follow, but I am ignoring them for now.
Throughout my childhood there were frequent visits to the doctor due to my intermittent limping. The diagnosis was simply that I was craving attention and pretending it hurt when there was obviously nothing wrong – “it was just a sprain”. My mum was the only one who believed me and insisted time after time that we visited the doctor in the hope that something could be proven.
It was many years (and a school medical later) before they finally relented to her persistence and a CT scan was arranged. The scan identified a hole in the bone, but as I was young and growing it was considered that in time, it would heal itself....
Fast forward many years... I met a doctor that believed what I was telling him as I described my ankle and how it would collapse or lock up without warning. How I could not descend stairs properly and the frequent times I felt like banging my head against the wall to make the pain go away. He arrange an MRI scan...
“Severe necrosis” were just two of the words used to describe the findings of the scan. Forever etched in my mind I knew it meant something bad. But the greatest memory was the realisation that there was a justifiable reason for my pain. I hadn't made it up to seek attention, it existed for real. All those people that had called me a liar were wrong.
The consultant who has performed all my operations to date is amazing and fully supportive of me and of my running. It was not him that told me I would never run again. That was his registrar at the time, his name I cannot remember, which I am sad about as I owe him a lot. Without his blatant disregard for the ability of the human body and mind I may well never have gone onto prove what is achievable. I might never have run London Marathon, become a National Champion or worn a vest for Great Britain. I may well have become the cripple that he told me I would be within 5 years.....
The operations have definitely improved my ankle, it does not collapse or lock in the way it used to, I can confidently walk down stairs and run down hills. But it does still hurt every day, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. When I run confidently and strongly there is minimal pain. When I run slowly, awkwardly or sometimes when I am just walking it hurts. It even hurts when I am sitting or laying down, doing nothing, a pain similar to intense toothache.
There have been several solicitors that have wanted to “take on my case”. For all the pain and suffering that I have endured since I was 13. The fact that it was not X-rayed; the misdiagnosis by the A&E doctor on the day of the accident; the frequent visits to the doctor that were ignored; the medical records that “got lost”; the rude doctor that called me a liar and also called me fat, and so on....
I said no, quite simply because through all that has happened I have been given a very special gift. A gift that no one could ever have handed me in a prettily wrapped box with a bow. A gift that no monetary compensation could ever give.
It gave me hope, determination, belief and commitment. It gave me the ability to endure pain, it helped me learn how to create a dream world. Create dreams that offered an escape from the reality of physical pain and emotional suffering when people called me bad names. It ultimately helped me become a very good ultra runner.....
The pain will continue forever and a day and there will be more surgery. Each time I feel the pain I will dig deeper, I will create the dreams and realise the dreams. I have not yet dug deep enough to get to the other side, so I reckon that there is a lot more digging to do....
