October: A Quiet Turning Point
I can’t believe it has been nearly a month since my last update — and what a month it has been. October carries me from Taos to Albuquerque to Denver for both family and medical needs, then on to Florissant, Ouray, and Pagosa Springs for a ten-day adventure with Patrick, and finally back home.
It feels like a threshold month — my right hip turns a real corner; I can feel it. The nose is still a situation (more below), but it’s shifted from crisis to management. And on October 16th: three years of still being here. Three years of living. Also: the last threads of the lawsuit are finally tied off. It’s behind us.
With only a month and a half until the left hip surgeries, a mid-November Denver trip for post-op and pre-op, and the desire to see family and friends over the holidays, time suddenly feels very, very short.
Taos → Albuquerque → Denver with Mom
The drive to Albuquerque goes smoothly and I’m comfortable - big win to start a long journey.
First stop was an ENT follow-up that raises concerns but not alarm; I restart antibiotic rinses and gather referrals for a UNM rhinologist and a facial plastics specialist, and still plan to check in with my Co Springs facial reconstructive surgeon.
Family time feels nourishing and manageable; I sleep in — a trend I welcome when naps are still elusive. Then the early morning drive to Denver goes so well; I sleep the whole time, other than waking up to stretch every 2 hours as prescribed by one of my providers. Thanks to mom for driving the whole way! We both needed this win: her first big road trip since spine surgery and my first since hip.
In Denver we arrive to a freezing house and no heat. We cocoon anyway — silly TV, hot pho, a happy landing. At my 8-week right-hip post-op appointment, feedback is… minimal. No real gait guidance, and they even forget my left side is scheduled for December. The nose is brushed off there too, which is disorienting. Still, mom and I meet friends for breakfast burritos, then back at her house I even do PT and walk up stairs for the first time. I feel myself move into a different phase. And, I’m writing a TON. Suddenly inspired, I have two 3 year reflection posts that will go live very soon. I’m feeling excited and hopeful.
Mountains, fall colors, and the healing touch of water
Breakfast at our favorite place in Evergreen and then a visit with my dad at the Memorial Park, then on to Florissant, Ouray, Pagosa. In Florissant we find a tiny A-frame with a movie room and too many stairs — and I’m okay. At the Wolf & Wildlife Center, two wolves kiss us on the mouth; I have light tears later in the car for reasons I can’t fully name. In Ouray we soak, wander a few blocks, climb a few sets of stairs, have fun shopping, eat pasta. I am sore but not spiraling. By Pagosa, we’re in a rhythm: coffee, soak, rest, food, repeat. The drives between towns are jaw-dropping. I sleep until 9 or 10 almost every morning. Under the sky and in the water, I can feel my body trying — really trying — to trust that I am safe.
A trip we will carry
I am so grateful for time away with Patrick. We need it. We’ve only had one other vacation since the accident, and that one was interrupted constantly by legal worries. This time, we had already received some of the settlement; we could plan and pay without leaning on our support system. While in Ouray, we heard that the last i’s had been dotted. We exhale.
This trip moves at a mellow pace by necessity, and that becomes its own quiet gift. We often end up wrapped around each other, breathing — not planning, just being. I don’t have full words yet, but I know this trip will keep working on us. It already is.
Landing back home
We return to Taos on the 18th to happy animals, a clean house, and our newly fenced yard. Our house sitter leaves us dinner; I feel so cared for. Then everything stacks at once: PT, massage, therapy, a rhinologist visit in Albuquerque (she’s excellent and thinks repair could help make this not a lifelong maintenance issue), PT again (first time on the elliptical!), Feldenkrais (instant easing), myofascial chiropractor (relief and joy). The Taos care web meets me fully; I feel seen.
We make hard calls about November travel and the holidays. I hate missing time with Patrick’s family again, but I also know what my body needs. In the middle of all that planning, there’s dinner at a friend’s — lovely to be invited and to feel up to going — and an afternoon watching Patrick and friends at a volleyball tournament. I sit in the sun with a Reuben and a drink, chat with people I haven’t seen since surgery, and feel… life.
Right now
This morning (Sunday 26th) the nose flares again — round three of antibiotic rinses in two months. A new ENT in Taos is on the calendar this week; I don’t expect more clarity, just establishing so I have someone local. For clarity, I put a call in to the ENT Rhinologist in ABQ for advice… is it time to add nebulized antibiotics too or stick with the rinses for now? I have an appointment with my Co Springs facial reconstructive surgeon at the end of November. I don’t need another surgery on the board, but if repair means less daily management and less mental load, I’m open to the path that helps me live.
Meanwhile, my right hip keeps progressing. PT is strong. I’m moving more freely. Some of my new exercises call for more trunk/shoulder stability, something I have to watch out for but for now I’m doing okay and managing the pain without strong meds other than muscle relaxers at night.
When I can slow — especially in morning meditation — I touch awe and gratitude: for my body and how she heals, for my spirit, humor, joy, for the simple sparkle that’s still here.
Looking ahead
I enter the final stretch before the left-hip surgeries — about six weeks now. It’s a strange in-between: strength returning on one side while I prepare to open the other. There’s real possibility blooming for the first time in years, right alongside honest fatigue and grief that I’m not done yet.
Logistics are lined up — Denver mid-November for the 3-month right-hip and pre-op left-hip visits, ongoing nose care, PT and bodywork in Taos, and gentle boundaries around what I can realistically do before I’m back in post-op. I’m practicing moving from my body first — not from the calendar, not from fear.
What I know: this month so far feels like a soft return to myself. I want to carry that forward — steady, present, breathing — into whatever the next descent asks of me.
Finding Balance in the Fullness
This last stretch of October into early November was full — multiple appointments every day, a blur of movement and management. PT, a financial meeting (so grateful for the team that has held us steady), bodywork, and another round of suctioning at the local ENT. By Friday, I left my last appointment proud of my progress and completely drained. The week had that particular rhythm where I wondered if I was doing too much — and somehow, each session built on the last. My bodywork, adjustments, and PT all layered beautifully, and I left with strong feedback about how much strength I’m gaining. I am healing well, feel strong, and then have pain where I can’t tell if it is soreness or misalignment — I’m thankful I have such an amazing team here to guide me.
Still, the underlying question hums: how do I keep up with all of this care and still have energy for anything else?
The nose saga continues its twists. A strange smell Sunday, phone tag with my ENT Rhinologist Monday, a new nebulized antibiotic/steroid combo called in Tuesday, establishing with yet another ENT and getting suctioned Wednesday. Thankfully, not contagious. The plan feels solid: my local ENT will keep tabs and suction when needed, and by the next visit I’ll have used the new nebulizer for two full weeks — enough to see whether it helps more than the rinses. The nebulizer is prescribed for use every day for a month… it is daunting to think about needing to do this treatment while healing from my next surgeries. We will cross that bridge when we get there I suppose.
At home, the Día de los Muertos glow fills the house. Our Nixplay frame cycles through photos of loved ones — a shared family album my sister-in-law created — and it’s such a comfort. Their faces appear beside ours, flickering like candlelight. The house feels warm, reverent, and tender.
Then came the catch-up weekend. I didn’t leave the house once. Seed-saving in the garden, a gentle home PT session with Patrick when my mood dipped, some organizing and decluttering, and long stretches of quiet. I felt low — not depressed, just full. The kind of tired that comes from healing so much at once and realizing how narrow the bandwidth still is. I’m craving connection and missing my capacity for more, but right now, the nesting feels like medicine. Maybe that’s the balance: not choosing between doing and resting, but letting both have their time.
Somehow it’s already November. Surgery clearance in Denver on the 11th looms, then with my PCP the following week in Taos, and I can feel the nerves whispering — hoping my right hip looks as strong on the scans (and through the surgical PA’s eyes as he watches me walk) as it feels inside my body.
Even the busiest week can end in stillness and candles.
Continue regular weekly appointments with Taos providers as able
11/9-13ish: Denver
11/11: Post Op R Hip / Surgery Clearance for L Hip with PAO Team
11/11: Post Op R Hip / Surgery Pre Op for L Hip with Arthroscopy Team
11/20-23: P in LA
11/26: Telemed with Co Springs Facial Reconstructive Surgeon to discuss the possibility of a perforated septum repair surgery
12/4-20ish: Denver
12/8: L Hip Arthroscopy in Boulder
12/11: L Hip PAO Pre Op
12/15: L Hip PAO - inpatient at Swedish in Denver (1-2 night hospital stay)
TBD: return to run, impact, and higher intensity exercise
