Published: July 30, 2009 12:39 pm      

Road to Recovery

David Lockhart

By: David Lockhart

Recovery can be evaluated and defined in many different ways. Moreover each varying level of one’s personal recovery is relative to his own experiences and challenges. Becoming complacent at any level of a recovery poses the risk of stopping further progress and subsequent setbacks could easily follow. Recuperating to the state you were in to begin with may not be sufficient to sustain a healthy lifestyle.

On Sept. 22, 1996, I was a fairly healthy 24-year-old, but at about 9:15 p.m. my life nearly ended. A car driven by a drunk driver struck me. As a result, I suffered multiple injuries. My jaws were broken with a dozen fractures, my nose, collarbone, ribs, and left leg — all broken. Upon arrival at the University of Tennessee Medical Center, I was given just three hours to live. However, through the grace of God and with shear determination I was able to begin a path to recovery that has proven miraculous.

At the time of the wreck, I weighed 180 pounds. However, after having my jaws surgically closed for 10 weeks, I dropped to 147 pounds. Spending six months in a wheel chair and then six more using a walker compounded my physical deterioration. As with any recovery, time itself is a major component of success, and as time went by I made gains and grew more and more confident. Upon reaching each milestone I would eagerly work toward achieving the next. Days passed by and as months became years, memories of pain and agony slowly faded and at some point I just became satisfied.

As contentment grew into carelessness, I ate just about anything. If I drove past a fast food restaurant with a sign reading, ”99¢” or ”2 for $2”, I would usually detour to a drive-thru for a well-deserved snack. After all, I’d had my teeth literally wired shut for those 10 weeks so in my mind I seemed deserving of never going without again. Sometimes I would pick up a large pizza after work and devour the whole thing while watching the evening news.

One day at work in February 2008, a co-worker commented that the top of my head appeared to be a shade of purple — he further suggested that I might need to see a doctor. Well, my doctor had retired so I began to ask around. One day, while visiting the blood-pressure machine at a pharmacy, I had a conversation with an older gentleman concerning health that led to his recommendation of his physician. Upon getting checked out, I found that my health was far from optimal. The doctor said I was about 50 pounds overweight, my HDL/LDL cholesterol levels were not good, and my blood pressure reading in his office prompted him to even consider admitting me for observation.

I left his office that day with a mixed set of feelings. On one hand, I was extremely disappointed that I had been so careless in maintaining both my health and diet. However, on the other hand, I was looking forward to the prospect of making improvements. I decided that I would stop drinking pop, boycott fried food, and use only fat free salad dressing. I changed over to skim milk and besides black coffee and unsweetened tea I only drank water.

In March 2008, I decided to join Baptist Family Fitness. Although I had reservations about “exposing” myself to the crowd at the gym, I pushed myself through the front door and signed up. The treadmill looked easy enough so I started walking a few days a week. After a couple of weeks I decided I would try the elliptical machine - after all, the folks I had seen exercising on them were always talking, smiling, and even some were reading magazines. Yes! The elliptical appeared to be just right for me.

My first day on the elliptical was my shortest workout ever.

After only four minutes, I was hunched over the arms of the machine in agony and disbelief. How had I gone wrong? Why in the world had I joined this lousy gym? I walked out that day with no intention of returning. If it would not have been for the encouragement of a long-time friend, I wouldn’t have gone back into the fitness center again, but after talking with him and learning that he too was a member, I decided to stick it out for a while longer.

I had heard descriptions of a “second-wind” but never actually believed it existed. Man was I wrong! One day somewhere into my fourth month, by which time I was warming up on the treadmill and finishing on the elliptical, I had been exercising for about 30 minutes, I felt it. My breathing slowed, I became relaxed, and I just felt great.

Each time I visited the doctor for a follow-up, I always showed weight loss and improvement in both blood pressure and cholesterol. Today I no longer take any prescription medications, and I feel better than I ever remember feeling in my life. Currently I weigh 180 pounds and I have started weight training along with my cardio workout.

Looking back, I see how it happened. I was a victim who took on the victim mentality with all it had to offer. I had the pity of others, the reassurance that since my recovery was complete I could just kick back and take it easy. And, most devastating of all — I’d become complacent.

Through complacency, my recovery changed into a sort of re-victimization. Maybe recovering all of those lost meals wasn’t such a good idea after all. It seems that too much mozzarella cheese, garlic butter bread and fried anything just aren’t very good rewards to present to oneself — regardless of how enjoyable it is enjoying victim status and receiving victim treatment.

Today, thanks to determination, commitment and my faith in God, I’m not a victim any longer.