El Yogui Biónico: Historia de una fractura

Desde entonces, han pasado dos semanas en casa. Ni un día sin recordar que **la paciencia** es parte de la sanación. Esta vez, acompañado por mi novia, que me ha cuidado muchísimo. Pero no siempre fue así: >Durante el primer mes, cuando todavía estaba con el yeso, ella estaba en Venezuela por temas familiares. Así que me tocó a mí arreglármelas solo: comprar comida (una de las cosas mas difíciles con muleta), dar clases con yeso, volver a casa a veces en taxi y otras veces en tren y todavía después de un largo día sacar a pasear a nuestra perrita todos los días para que hiciera sus necesidades porque la hermosa no hace dentro de la casa (así le enseñamos), caminando como podía con las muletas por todo el barrio/urbanización. Ahora que ella (mi novia) está de vuelta, ha sido un gran alivio. La últimas semanas empecé a retomar clases, todavía sin poder apoyar el pie, con los puntos todavía y usando muletas, pero adaptando la práctica y enseñanza de yoga a mis posibilidades actuales. He podido darme cuenta de algo importante: que **siempre hay formas de seguir**, aunque las condiciones no sean las ideales. Enseñar y practicar sentado, dando instrucciones muy claras para hacerme entender sin la posibilidad de mostrar posturas. Y en cuanto a mi práctica personal, adaptando mi secuencia de práctica de yoga en todos los aspectos para las posibilidades que tengo, porque considero importante que el movimiento es fundamental para evitar dolores, rigidez y lesiones en otras partes del cuerpo. Sin ponerme de pie, pero aplicando todo el conocimiento que tengo de tantos años enseñando. Entre todo esto, mis pensamientos han sido un ir y venir de **motivación y aprendizaje**. **A veces creemos que la vida nos frena, cuando en realidad nos da la oportunidad de mirar las cosas con otros ojos.** He tenido que recordarme que todo es temporal, que el dolor pasa, que incluso las fracturas sanan. Y que mientras tanto, puedo agradecer: por el equipo médico, por mi pareja, por mi práctica de yoga y meditación, que sin dudas me han sostenido en la buena actitud que he tenido estos días. Lo que me llevo de todo esto es un recordatorio potente: nunca rendirse, seguir adelante incluso en la adversidad, y confiar en que mantener una actitud positiva marca la diferencia. Creo que es uno de los aprendizajes más valiosos que me quedan, y que pienso quedarme para siempre. ---  --- ##### ENGLISH On Saturday, September 30th, at 9 p.m., it turned out to be a day I won’t easily forget. I was playing a “friendly” soccer match, hahaha, and there were just seconds left before the end — the last play. Everything seemed routine until, in a collision with the goalkeeper, I took a hit that, although I didn’t realize it at the time, was about to change the following weeks for me. Although at the moment of impact it hurt like hell and I screamed a lot, a few seconds later the pain eased. In fact, I remember that while I was screaming so much, I told myself in my head: >You’re screaming too much, breathe, and the pain will pass. And that’s literally what happened. The curious thing is that soon after, I really didn’t feel that pain anymore — nor that “unbearable” sensation we usually associate with a fracture. That’s why my mind played the classic trick on me: “It’s probably just a sprain.” So for the first five days, I kept walking as if nothing had happened — just with a bandage, using ice and arnica. No boot, and definitely no strict rest. In fact, I even went to teach my yoga classes from Monday to Friday as if nothing was wrong. Yes, there was pain, but nothing that seemed unusual for what I thought was a simple sprain. Until my cousin, who’s a doctor, saw the huge bruise and said something like: “That’s not a simple sprain, that looks like a fibula fracture. You need to go to the ER.” And that’s when I realized I was probably fooling myself. Five days after the injury, I ended up in the emergency room. And yes, it turned out to be a fracture. I remember that the moment I saw the X-ray (the same one on the cover), I immediately started to feel the sensation of the bone breaking. It was as if, by not truly seeing what had happened, I hadn’t felt the real pain — but the moment I became aware of it, it appeared (it was more like tingling or numbness than pain). That made me realize, very tangibly, the mind’s power to suppress, repress, and later suggest pain once you’re told something happened. But that wasn’t all: because of where the fracture was, even though I saw it as small, the traumatologist immediately told me surgery was necessary. Hahaha — I went from walking as if nothing was wrong to being diagnosed for surgery within seconds, with a wave of fear taking over as I realized everything that being “fractured” actually meant (when just minutes earlier I had gone to the ER only to check the bruise). That’s when another part of the story began: the race against time. I was told I needed surgery soon; otherwise, the bone would heal incorrectly and cause serious problems later. Getting an appointment with the specialist, permissions, pre-op tests… everything kept getting delayed. So much that I spent 30 days in a cast without being able to have surgery (the limit). And with a displaced fracture, that’s terrible — because the bone starts to fuse the wrong way, and that’s when plates and screws become necessary to fix the displacement before it heals incorrectly. Finally, on Tuesday, October 30th, at 6 p.m., I entered the operating room. The surgery lasted only 45 minutes. No pain, and the medical team was amazing. I came out with a plate and six screws — and a new stage ahead: recovery. Since then, two weeks have passed at home. Not a single day without remembering that patience is part of healing. This time, I’ve been cared for by my girlfriend, who’s been amazing. But it wasn’t always like that: During the first month, when I still had the cast on, she was in Venezuela for family matters. So I had to manage everything on my own: grocery shopping (one of the hardest things on crutches), teaching yoga with a cast, getting home sometimes by taxi, other times by train, and even after a long day, taking our dog out for walks every single day because our lovely girl doesn’t do her business inside the house (that’s how we trained her) — walking as best as I could through the neighborhood with crutches. Now that she’s back, it’s been a huge relief. In recent weeks, I’ve started teaching again, still unable to put weight on my foot, still with stitches, using crutches — but adapting my yoga teaching and practice to my current possibilities. I’ve realized something important: there’s always a way to keep going, even when the circumstances aren’t ideal. Teaching and practicing while seated, giving very clear verbal instructions to make myself understood without demonstrating the poses. And in my personal practice, I’ve been adapting my yoga sequence in every possible way to what my body allows, because I consider movement essential to avoid pain, stiffness, and new injuries elsewhere. Not standing up, but applying all the knowledge I’ve gained over years of teaching. Through all of this, my thoughts have gone back and forth between motivation and learning. Sometimes we think life is stopping us, when in reality it’s giving us a chance to see things through different eyes. I’ve had to remind myself that everything is temporary, that pain passes, that even fractures heal. And in the meantime, I can be grateful — for the medical team, for my partner, for my yoga and meditation practice, which have undoubtedly kept me in good spirits throughout these days. What I take from all this is a powerful reminder: never give up, keep going even through adversity, and trust that maintaining a positive attitude makes all the difference. I think that’s one of the most valuable lessons I’ll carry with me — and one I plan to keep forever. ------