As I work to heal from the first of numerous surgeries on my foot, I’ve been thinking about how what we experience in life creates the story we carry with us into our future. This impacts how we interpret the behavior of others and how we react in the world.

Because of experiences in my childhood, parts of me grew up feeling we needed to hide, certain if anyone really saw and knew us they would hate us. We had strong defenses up to protect ourselves from other people and tried not to anger people in power, especially those whose help we needed. I have done a lot of emotional work over the years to change these internal beliefs and so was surprised to find myself experiencing some of these same feelings after my last surgery. The anesthesia didn’t work and I felt every bit of the lasers burning into my foot, causing a posttraumatic stress reaction for me. When I thought about doing another one of these surgeries I could feel myself kicking and screaming inside, saying, “NO, I’m not doing that ever again.”

As soon as I recognized I was descending into a dissociative post traumatic stress response, I determined not to let that take hold and become yet one more internalized trauma which could come back to haunt me when I least expected it. I acknowledged the trauma and how painful it had been, while also nurturing the Little parts of me. I asked for and ate chocolate ice cream in the recovery room. Then I reached out to everyone I knew to help me stay grounded in the present and stay out of feeling I was completely alone and powerless in the world. I was touched by those who replied with words such as “Mary Badass you’ve got this.”

Still, I approached the postop visit with some trepidation, fearful the hospital might react with defensiveness or insist the problem was somehow my fault because I hadn’t opted for general anesthesia. I knew these fears came from events in my childhood and was determined to use this experience to change the narrative.

When I met with the nurse for my postop visit, I explained what happened without spewing blame. I also expressed my needs and desires very clearly. I was pleasantly surprised when this nurse heard me and assured me they would try to do what they could to make my next surgery, which is scheduled for April 29, different. Furthermore, I was thrilled she heard my desire to hike and was willing to try to schedule the third surgery for late May and postpone future surgeries into the fall which will allow me to set out to hike by mid June. It is to be expected that my foot will still be painful for two years or more, but as long as I can tolerate the pain, I won’t be doing it any damage. And as was reinforced this winter, it is worth dealing with the increased pain of physical activities such as skiing, in order to gain an emotional boost which helps me tolerate painful, sleep-disturbed nights.

It’s still hard for me to believe the anesthesia will go smoothly, but I’m not jumping to the conclusion it will be horrible. I’m letting it be what it is in the moment without putting expectations on it, knowing each step of the way I might have to re-advocate for myself. And in the meantime I am focusing on changing my current narrative of these last five months.

Rather than viewing this entire situation as a negative, I am viewing it as an adventure I would not have chosen and would never want to do again, but which did bring me some learning opportunities. I’m trying to convince my brain that what I feel in my foot is just a sensation and it doesn’t have to connect it to pain. And I’m deciding I can still hike this summer no matter how my foot feels.

Thus I’m beginning to plan for my next adventure. This will be a multi-year project of connecting where I started both the Continental Divide Trail and the Pacific Northwest Trail in Glacier National Park to West Quoddy Head Maine, utilizing the 4800 miles North Country Trail along the way. When I finish this, I will have completed all eleven of the national scenic trails and will have traversed via people power from the westernmost point of the continental US to the eastern most point. It will push me to well over 25,000 miles of backpacking. I’m expecting to do the 900 miles or so connecting the western end of the North Country Trail to Glacier by canoe or kayak utilizing the Missouri River. And somewhere over the next few years, I’ll figure out how to connect the eastern end of the North Country Trail to West Quoddy Head Maine.

I’ll keep you updated in these blogs both about my trip and my first book, Meeting Mary Badass, which is getting closer to being published in both paper form and as an audiobook.

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#ft #floridatrail