One of my big goals prior to starting the PCT was to clear out the junk in my house, downsize, and simplify my belongings. Just before I was laid off, I was seriously considering buying a cargo van and building it out as a camper to live a more minimalist lifestyle. Then, I decided to hike the PCT, and I can’t think of anything more minimal than thru hiking with what I know now. I don’t want to own anything. I don’t want STUFF anymore.
I decided to have a “yard sale” at my house, indoors and with wine and snacks for my women’s hiking group as a PCT fundraiser of sorts. Declutter, make some extra money, have a fun time, and make sure my things can continue their lives in a new home – win win win win. In the process, I’ve been sorting through literally every single item in my house. I have so much older outdoor gear because before I got really sick, I was always extremely active and athletic. I could never let go of that, or give up hope that I would do those things again someday. By keeping all those things, I think I was desperately trying to hold onto myself, rather than holding on to old surfing or snowboarding gear itself.
I’ve also been clearing out all of my braces, posture correctors, spine supports, cervical pillows, physical therapy bands, balance boards and various contraptions I acquired over the last 6 years. They feel so foreign to me now, but at one point, served an incredibly important purpose. None of those objects were what healed me, and some, I probably never needed in the first place, but they all represented hope that I would get better, tiny moments of my days spent actively trying to heal myself so that I could feel like an athlete again, so that I could be an athlete again. Those are the reminders of my constant searching for answers that led me to moving 3,000 miles across the country, and eventually to my physical therapist.
Next week is my very last PT appointment with one of the most talented physical therapists I possibly ever could have been lucky enough to work with. When I walked into that office the first time, I had trouble walking up and down stairs without looking directly at my feet so as to not become disoriented as to where my body was in space, I couldn’t lift my head up without holding it in my hands, I had all kinds of balance and vision issues, debilitating migraines, and pain – unrelenting pain, everywhere, all the time.
At my very first appointment, my PT told me that she knew exactly what was wrong with me and how to fix me. She called me a “textbook case” of hypermobility and dysautonomia, so much so that she wanted to use me as a case study for a presentation. I cried on the way home, half overjoyed to be a “textbook” anything after having been a medical mystery for decades, and half not believing that I could be cured, terrified of getting my hopes up.
But here I am, 4 years later about to go hike the PCT. My very last PT appointment is next week, and I will say goodbye, just as I’m saying goodbye to all these pieces of running, snowboarding, skiing, surfing, and swimming gear – ready to go to their new homes, and as I am ready to go to mine.
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