Dimming the muscle switch

With the arrival of 2016, and with it the continued realization that time passes faster and faster every year, it makes me reflect back on the goals and objectives that I set for my recovery last year, to the unfinished goals that I will carry over into the new year and to new objectives I will set for my continued path of spinal cord injury recovery.

I can confidently say that my body has changed significantly in the past year. In the last couple of weeks especially, I’ve been doing a lot more work in standing positions and my trainer has challenged me and in turn pushed the limits of the Pilates equipment (which have probably never been used for some of the exercises we do…) by coming up with novel ways of strengthening my current abilities and building off of those to challenge my body to find the next steps of function.

As a result, my endurance to stay standing – while much less than I would like – is noticeably better than it was even a month or so ago. I’ll share a video below to show one of the recent exercises I’ve been working on and one that went from needing a lot of assistance a couple of months ago, to now being able to control everything relatively smoothly on my own.

So where do I go from here?

One of my main goals for 2016 will be what I’m calling “dimming the switch.” I use the analogy of a light switch because it applies quite well to what I’m referring to.

Right now, the engagement that I get to the muscles of my lower body generally works like a light switch, meaning when I turn a certain set of muscles on or perform a particular movement, those muscles are on 100%, working hard, contracting strongly. When I decide to change positions or turn off, everything just kinda releases all at once. So I’m stuck with a light switch; on or off; 0 or 100%, with not much control of the in between.

For example, in the video above, if I were to try to bend my knees or do that same exercise in a light squat (which I must admit would be rather challenging for anyone), I would crumple to the ground, unable to dim that switch and maintain control of my stance. I either have to stay with legs locked straight or I get nothing at all.

You see where I’m going with this right?

The dimmer switch is essential to any kind of functional movement that I’m working to regain. I have to be able to control some muscles at 50 or 70% and not just 100%. Not only that, but I also have to relearn and retrain myself on how to differentiate one side of the body from the other. In other words, if I’m going to be able to successfully take steps, my left leg must be able to bear weight and be at 80 or 90 or 100% contraction while the right leg is lifted in the air and taking a step. It utterly blows my mind to think about how a healthy body and spinal cord can so naturally manage a movement pattern like walking that may seem simple, but is actually startlingly complex as it’s a consistent dimming up and down of different muscles at all times.

Like so much of what I have understood since my injury, our bodies and our movements are incredible and should not be taken for granted. It’s easy to underestimate just how much is involved with a seemingly simple set of movements, until you’re faced with an entirely different body that doesn’t react the same way.

So I will dedicate 2016 to finding that dimmer switch and being able to control my lower body movements more fluidly and effortlessly.

The proof and the pudding for Visualization

A few days ago, news came out of a research study from UC Irvine of a man using his thoughts to move his legs and walk by circumventing his damaged spinal cord. He was five years post Spinal Cord Injury, with no motor or sensory function below his level of injury and was able to train his brain and body to relearn how to walk. The process didn’t involve an implant or surgery but instead used an electroencephalogram (EEG) system that sent his brain signals directly to electrodes attached to his legs.

Although he was the only subject in the study, thus proving that the results must be replicated many times for them to have a more significant impact, this is still an incredibly exciting breakthrough. I recently wrote a post about my thoughts on cures for SCI and while I have no doubt that scientists will continue to explore this method and improve upon it, for me the most interesting element of the study, and the most relevant, was one of the more subtle points.

“He first underwent mental training to reactivate the brain areas responsible for controlling movements involved in walking. The researchers placed an EEG cap on his head to read his brainwaves, and he trained to control an avatar in a virtual reality setting.” (CBS News)

In other words, he had to visualize moving his legs and walking in order to establish that pattern of brain signals and then, just like strengthening a muscle by lifting weights or exercising, he had to continuously exercise that visualization pattern and strengthen the connection between the thought and the movement he wanted to achieve.

I’ve written at length about my frustrations with the inconsistency and shortcomings of the medical establishment when it comes to Spinal Cord Injury, but one thing that I did consistently hear from almost every medical practitioner was the importance of visualization as an essential element in one’s recovery. Everyone said this to me. “If you can’t move that part of your body, then think about it. Try to move it as much as you can. Keep sending those signals.”

As a result, so much of my recovery efforts are based on combining my intent and effort to send the signal of movement from my brain to a part of my body and then achieving that movement either with the support of equipment or a person and most often both. Even when I swim, I’ve established the habit of constantly thinking about kicking my legs and propelling myself forward using my lower body, even if I have difficulty doing so on my own.

But how do I know if my efforts to visualize and send brain signals are actually accomplishing anything? Is it possible to measure visualization skills in any way?

In my belief, those breakthroughs of progress that I’ve achieved must be somewhat attributed to the  diligent effort to visualize and constantly try to tap into the mental aspect of my training as much as the physical. While it’s impossible to say that X amount of this one accomplishment is due to visualization I did on certain specific days, I think the bottom line is that the mental exercise can and does lead to physical results, as evidenced by this research.

Furthermore, neuroplasticity (the all important yet still not widely accepted concept that the brain and nervous system is not hard wired and can rewire and repair itself) gets a big boost from this research. The old school, outdated way of thinking about the neurological system would say that any damage to the system is permanent and irreparable. But if a guy can go five years after his injury, and in a manner of a few weeks visualize and retrain those parts of the brain responsible for sending signals to his lower body, and then find a way to move those muscles and walk by skipping over the damaged part of his spinal cord, then I don’t think there’s any question that neuroplasticity is real and should finally become acknowledged and taught in the medical textbooks.

I’m happy to see this story confirm the importance and success of visualization and hope that it can lead to further developments and more progressive ways of treating SCI and neurological conditions.

Another toe wiggle (finally)

If you’ve been following my recovery and reading my blog for a while, you may remember the post I wrote about waking up one morning and being able to wiggle my pinky toe with full control. This happened six months after my injury and at the time, I thought it heralded the process of most every muscle in my body slowly but consistently coming back under my full control. I was wrong…

In the two and a half years since, I have worked harder towards my recovery than anything else in my life. My day to day life was, and is still, 100% focused on recovery and on working towards my all important goal of getting back on my feet and walking. But despite all of that hard work, I didn’t regain function the way I was expecting. It was more than a little disheartening to regain full control of a body part, expect it to continue, and then tick off the days and weeks that went by without any further recovery of function. I’ve obviously made a huge amount of progress since then, which I don’t want to discount, but there was something so satisfying about regaining absolute control of any body part in my lower body that I didn’t experience since then… until now.

It seems that the pinky toe wanted a friend, that it became lonely and wanted a companion to dance along with it on my right foot. We’ve all been in that situation at a party, work event, or gathering where we don’t know anyone, where we long for companionship, where we hit the apex of desperation for someone, just anyone, to come along and give us a reprieve from our isolation. (Ok I admit that’s a little over dramatic but just humor me…).

Well the wait is over for my pinky toe.

A couple of weeks ago, I noticed something different in my right foot and when I looked down, I saw the second toe, the Co-Captain of the toes (yes that’s a Seinfeld reference, enjoy), wanting to join the movement train. Unlike the pinky though, moving the second toe was very subtle at first. I had to try really hard to make it move. But once that pathway of communication to the toe was open, all I had to do was hammer it over and over and over. And everyday after that, it became stronger to the point where now I have 95% control of it.

Ok so you may be thinking, “What is so important about a toe? How does that help with the goal of walking?” Well the answer is simple. If all of my recovery was supposed to stop after one or two years, like the doctors predicted, then the fact that I’ve regained control of any part of my lower body confirms how bogus that thinking is. More importantly, it shows that a new communication pathway has been established from my brain, that a signal that previously couldn’t get through is now able to make its way to its destination. And if that’s possible, three years after my injury, then anything is possible from here on out. New pathways can be established, new muscles can be innervated, new movements can occur and the hope of regaining more function is very much alive.

It may just be a toe but it’s a validation, however small, that everything I’m working on is leading to results, and that more recovery is going to come.

Update from Maui

I’ve had the incredible opportunity to come back to Maui and work with Alejandra and her staff and share her amazing perspective and approach to my recovery. I’m a little over halfway through my time here and I must admit I’ve been pretty unplugged from everything and everyone, but I finally have the time, motivation and videos/photos to give a quick update.

As a quick reminder, Alejandra has created her own unique form of therapy she calls Neurokinetic Pilates which utilizes the concept of Neuroplasticity (the belief that the brain and nervous system can repair and rewire damaged connections as a result of injury, illness, etc.) and the understanding of the lines of fascia (the tissue that surrounds and connects all of our muscles) to perform exercises and movements that mostly use Pilates principles and equipment. (I wrote a couple of posts about my last experience with her from a few months ago, if you want to reference, the links are here and here).

This time around, it was right back to work immediately after arrival from the airport. Alejandra is incredibly focused, highly motivated, and does not like to waste one second of  our time which are qualities that I share and a few of the many reasons I like working with her so much. We had barely finished greeting each other before we were back at it, analyzing what had gotten stronger with me, what was still weak and what needed to be done during my time here.

So far, the main emphasis has been on connecting and strengthening muscles that will assist me with standing and starting to take steps. Alejandra refers to these muscles as “sleepy” as they haven’t been used much and need to be reawakened. Her skill lies in the ability to come up with exercises that find that precise body position that I need to be in (and there is very little margin for error in terms of my positioning) in order to engage those muscles. If my positioning is ever so slightly off, then the ability to connect that muscle is lost. Once we’ve woken up those sleepy muscles, then it’s just a matter of strengthening that connection by repetition.

The main muscles we’ve been working on are my glutes and hamstrings – and to a lesser extent my calves – as these are the muscles that will allow me to bend my knee from standing, lift my hip and take a step. The following video/photos show some of the exercises we’ve done everyday to connect these muscles:

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Before I sign off, I have to mention Grant Korgan who has been an inspiration for me since I first got injured and was the one who told me about Alejandra and how much she had helped him with his recovery from SCI. I’ve mentioned and linked to him a few times on my blog but now I’ve had the great fortune to spend some time with him and his wife Shawna out here. Big shoutout to them, from Ale le le waterfalls on the east side of Maui.

Ale le le falls