“How’s your recovery going?” I get this question a lot, and it's kind of a loaded question. In the second or two I take to respond (or more if if someone asks through a text message), I quickly ask myself a few questions: Are they sincerely interested or just being polite? Do they want to hear the whole answer or just the highlights? If I share the whole answer, will it make me feel better or worse after sharing.



That might seem silly, but I understand the importance of maintaining the right mental attitude. It's just as important, if not more important, than the supplements I'm using, therapies I'm getting, the diet I'm eating, or the workout program I'm following.



That's why I'm dedicating a whole blog post to playing the mental game of injury rehab and recovery.



I thought it might be helpful to outline the guidelines I've established to make sure I avoid developing a pessimistic, doubtful, lazy, complacent, or victimhood mindset.



Not surprisingly, these guidelines have a place in other pursuit's beyond a swift and complete recovery from injuries and ailments.



Oh, and if you haven't already, be sure to read my first two blog posts about my broken neck and spinal cord injury:




I Broke My Neck, Part 1: Injuries, Surgery, and Recovery Challenges



I Broke My Neck Part 2: What I’m Doing to Recover And Why




You can also find numerous updates of the day-to-day recovery process on my Facebook timeline, starting on July 30, 2022.



I will never seek or accept sympathy.



This is more of a rule than a guideline for me, and it’s a rule I’ve tried to live by for years, not just after going head first over my handlebars on my mountain bike.



Sympathy is defined as a feeling of pity or sorrow for the distress of another; commiseration.



Getting sympathy from others does nothing to keep me focused on the tough, uncomfortable, sometimes painful process of rehabbing my nervous, muscular, and skeletal systems.



Instead, getting sympathy leads to self-pity. 



If someone else pities me or feels sorrow for my current state of being, I will undoubtedly feel pity or sorrow for myself. That won’t help me remain optimistic. It’ll do the opposite. It’ll lead me to look at the world through the eyes of a pessimistic victim.



That’s bad for me but also bad for the person I’m interacting with.



Why would I want to infect his or her mind with pity or sorrow? If I’m not dead, God’s not through with me yet. 



You can’t be a light for others, much less yourself, when you’re consumed by the darkness of self-pity, pessimism, or victimhood.



Of course, people may express sympathy, especially those who care most. You just have to do your best to ignore it.



I must surround myself with encouragers, not doubters or downers



If you’ve followed the posts and stories Vanessa has shared over the past five weeks, you know I dismiss those who doubt my abilities, or those who think they know my body better than I do.



That started the morning after my surgery when I was supposed to stay in bed for a few days. I wanted to stand even though the nurses said I shouldn’t. I knew that I could. They doubted me. To emphasize my point, I stood on each leg, one at a time, and balanced, and then did a half squat on each leg.



Early on in my recovery, it was easy to keep doing what I knew I needed to, despite having people tell me I shouldn’t or couldn’t.



But the ability to ignore critics, doubters, or downers only lasts so long.



It’s part of why I wanted to get out of the hospital immediately. I didn’t want doctors and nurses telling me what I was capable of based on their standard of care documents.



I’ve also been cautious about interacting with others who would tell me to slow down, follow the doctor’s guidelines, or spend more time resting. Surrounding myself with such people could lead me to trust their “advice” instead of listening to my intuition.



I’d still be lifting soup cans and limiting my squats to the...