i ruined my physical life for 10 months hoping to improve the next 40 years of it by
having my knee reconstructed. but when it rains, it pours, and the rest of my life fell
apart too. these are the continuing memoirs of an arduous physical journey punctuated by
moments of crisis and joy.
November
November 4, 1998- Day 1 
while trying a new kick in tae kwondo class, not to be confused with tae bo (but
feel free to buy it at amazon now), i felt the ominous pop i’ve felt only once
before- the last time i really hurt my knee. i fell down after that all-too-familiar
sensation, and heard the giggles of my classmates who thought i was simply clumsy. then
the uncomfortable silence as everyone realized i was hurt. my instructor’s face told
me he was concerned. i came home to ice it and frantically hoped that i haven’t torn
my acl completely. if i have torn it this time, it feels surprisingly good after only a
few hours. i’ll just have to wait and see. shit, things were going really well in my
life too. just when i start to have a good time, things go awry. i’m plagued by
memories of my partial acl tear 12 years ago. if 6 months of rehab and 1 year with a limp
completely ruined my junior year of high school, just think what it could do to me now.
November 24- a very unsuccessful 15 minutes of skiing at copper mountain.
dancing and drinking that evening before alex goes to new york for thanksgiving. the pain
and looseness in my knee convinces me that i’ve broken my acl.
December
December 3- my primary care physician refers me to an orthopedic surgeon. worry.
December 6- start to research acl reconstruction and think about what i would
need to do to prepare for it. worry. rehash old memories of my last stint with knee rehab.
get the impression that the road to recovery is long and painful, although the long-term
outcome can be great. try and convince myself that maybe surgery wouldn’t be so bad.
December 10- surgeon’s diagnosis: completely torn acl. i cry on
the ride back from his office knowing that recovery is going to be awful, but so would
changing my lifestyle to accommodate my fucked up knee. i hate surgery and am terrified.
i’m touched by alex’s show of support but am reluctant to accept it. i’ll
take some time to research it and make an informed decision.
December 16- decide that i’m going to have surgery. start planning and
preparing for mild disability- have a feeling i’m going to need all the help i can
get. some friends enthusiastically volunteer to help me with whatever i need, others
don’t return my calls or e-mails. mom and dad are at the ready to do whatever i need,
as is alex. i’m lucky to have friends and family.
December 18- have one of the funniest nights i've had since my injury at a
christmas party. you can actually read all about this night.
December 24- spend the holidays with my parents. my knee is starting to bother
me more and more, although i still have full range of motion and no real swelling. walking
is still fine, but running and tae kwondo are out of the question. i spend christmas eve
laying on my parents’ couch with an ice pack on my knee and three advils in my blood.
December 29- pre-op appointment to make sure that i really do want and need the
surgery. sign papers giving my consent. i am terrified. i spend the rest of the afternoon
at work trying not to cry at my desk.
Dec. 31- the last hurrah before surgery. party in downtown denver and
crash someone's party. drink and laugh and sing until sunup. you can acutally read all about this night.
January
Jan 2- make final arrangements with the people helping me and buy enough food to
last me for the next three weeks. buy some comfortable, functional clothes and pajamas.
clean the house. freeze my gym membership. say goodbye to carefree recreation. say goodbye
to the dogs and write detailed instructions for all the people who are going to help me
care for them. i have no idea how to effectively prepare for the worst three months of my
life. alex is house and dog sitting until i return home. he’s agreed to stay with me
at my house and help me in whatever capacity i need until he goes away on business on the
15th.
Jan 5- knowing that i’m nervous about the next day, alex takes me to a nice
dinner and a movie. he is the man for me ;-).
Jan 6- surgery. mom and dad picked me up from my house and drove me to the
hospital. i walked into the hospital just fine at 9:00 a.m. knowing full well that i would
come out looking and feeling much worse. i signed some paperwork and waited in the nicely
furnished outpatient surgical waiting room. soon, it’s time for preparation, and i
meet susan, a very pleasant nurse from boston. susan ties my paper robe on me and remarks
about my "pretty underpants". i realize it is time to let go of all the modesty
and dignity that is wholly incongruent with hospitals and surgery. about an hour later, my
i.v. inserted, and the fact that it’s my left knee verified at least 7 times,
i’m wheeled into the operating room after a high five from dad and a worried look
from mom. 20 seconds later i’m asleep, and an hour and a half later, my surgery is
over. at 2:00 p.m., i wake up to the nurse telling me that i have a "gentleman
visitor bearing flowers" waiting for me. i smile as wide as an anesthetized person
can smile and i can’t wait to see alex. i’m wheeled into my recovery room with
my parents and alex in tow, and my leg is strapped into the continuous passive motion
(cpm) machine that will keep moving my leg from 0 to 30 degrees. i hated my roommate, who
had what seemed like her entire family with her the entire afternoon and early evening,
blabbing, blabbing, blabbing loudly and constantly through the thin curtain between us.
i felt fine that afternoon, better than i expected, although i can’t seem
to fully wake up. the anesthesia and post-surgical morphine left me in a welcome daze and
i drift off to sleep after only an hour of trying to stay awake. my parents and alex call
a few times that day and seem worried that i can’t wake up. the nurse isn’t
concerned, however, as my vitals are strong and steady. although i’m a little
nauseated, i am ready to eat some light food at about 4:00 p.m. at about 5:30, the
physical therapist comes to see if i’m able to get up and go to the bathroom using my
crutches. it was awful. somehow between sharp pain and waves of nausea, i made it from my
bed to the bathroom and back in 10 long minutes. i decided i wasn’t ready to leave
the hospital yet.
that evening i take a walk down the hall with my "pretty underpants"
exposed through my gaping paper nightgown. fight with the nurse to discharge me. listen to
the aid wheeling me out that he was on the stationary bicycle the day after his surgery.
ride to my parents house that night in silent, excruciating pain. i wish i would have
accepted the nurse’s last offer of morphine.
Jan 7- lay on the floor of my parent’s family room with my leg strapped
into the cpm. i am certain i have made a mistake by having surgery. i am sure i
cannot possibly feel any better in two short months. i don’t know how i’m going
to endure day after day of this, but try and act like i feel okay. my parents seem
worried. so am i. i finally resort to taking my pain medication at night.
Jan 8- another day on the floor watching tv, partitioned with fitful sleep. any
motion of my leg is painful and i spend 8 hours each day with it in continuous motion. i
am already behind on my range of motion. at unpredictable intervals, my leg jerks
involuntarily during sleep. any sudden movement, voluntary or involuntary, sends me to the
ceiling and i almost dread my naps.
Jan 9- a breakthrough day. take my first shower, awful as it was. walk more than
yesterday, though i cannot do even one leg-raise. i had no idea i was going to be this
disabled. i am now officially sorry i did this. i need help getting to the bathroom,
taking my showers, going to the refrigerator. yikes. i knew my leg would hurt, but it
seems my entire body has been weakened and traumatized by one hour of surgery. although
i’m probably not equipped to handle it, i want to go home.
Jan 10- homecoming prompted by lots of medication-induced nightmares and cabin
fever. my first walk in public assisted by crutches and brace. can only endure ambulation
for 20 minutes. i’m happy to see the dogs and vice versa i think. strapped into my
cpm and in more discomfort than usual due to my big day, the puppy has an accident in the
dining room and all i can do is helplessly watch from my new temporary bedroom on the
living room floor. there i was, laying on my twin mattress, squealing in vain, unable to
move quickly enough to scoop him up and put him out before he peed all over the place.
sally is in the basement doing her laundry, out of earshot and misses the whole thing. we
clean up the mess best we could. i felt so helpless.
Jan 11- decide that i’ll just keep sleeping in my living room for a few
weeks, as going upstairs is too much of a project when alex doesn’t spend the night.
showering and getting dressed in clean clothing consumes literally one whole brutal hour
so i only do it when i absolutely have to. and i hate that stupid shower chair, although i
couldn’t get by without it. i don’t know what’s worse, smelling unclean, or
going through the rigors of shower time.
Jan 16- first day back at the office. welcome the feel of getting back to work
and have a refreshed dedication to work. after coming home, i made a list of new
professional goals. feel like everything’s going to work out okay, even though
i’m still in quite a bit of pain. ready to kick butt.
Jan 18- first post-op appointment. thank god those creepy stitches are gone, but
i find out that awful numbness from knee to ankle will last for about a year. i am
woefully behind on range of motion. i’m not at 0-90 degrees, despite concerted and
painful efforts to get there. the tacks holding down my torn meniscus for the next 3
months will keep me from recovering as quickly as expected. i dread my first day of
physical therapy, but try to act natural. i hope i’ll be able to lose this ugly limp.
i tell the doctor how regretful i am of my choice. he looks concerned, but offers no
consolation besides his encouragement to get going on rehab.
Jan 20- first physical therapy appointment. my therapist, tina, is great. she
reminds me of an army nurse- stern after many years of hardening experience, but
she’s definitely in it to help people. tina seemed a little alarmed at all the
atrophy and unresponsiveness my muscles exhibited. she was gentle and careful in
determining my initial range of motion (10-80 degrees), understanding that the tacks
holding my medial meniscus intact were impeding my motion until they dissolved. "i
bet you didn’t think it would hurt this much, did you?" she commiserated after
listening to me groan after every minute movement. she confirmed my prediction that rehab
was going to be a real bitch. after my initial consultation with tina, i worked with dan,
the young, energetic pt aid who was cute as a button. dan was perfectly cut out for p.t.,
even though he often looked frustrated with the people he assisted every day. at the end
of our session, i am surprisingly tired, even though my exercises seemed light and simple
at the time. i only cried a little. later i accompany the rest of my co-workers to the
company attorney’s office sushi party. managing pain is much more exhausting than i
thought it would be. so far, i think i’m doing a good job of seeming as normal as
possible. this is my fullest, most normal day thus far. i need ice.
Jan 24- this is so awful.
Jan 27- get a lawyer to negotiate my severance if necessary. i decide to
start using my health club in addition to physical therapy in an attempt to speed up my
recovery. i start rehabbing every day and commit to doing a little more each day, even if
it’s just one minute on the bike longer than the day before. i’m frustrated by
my limited abilities and i’m afraid, but a little relieved to be getting away from
these people.
Jan 28- resign from my job. jesus, this could have happened a million other
ways, all of them better than this way. after the meeting, i got my stuff together to
leave for the day (of course). bill looked at me with feigned concern and asked me over
and over again if i was "okay". i kept telling him yes, i was fine, but he
insisted on accompanying me on my way down the infinitely long corridor to the front door
anyway. disparaging remarks removed.
bill kept following me and trying to talk to me in the parking lot with this
stupid look on his face. was he concerned that i was going to be that wrecked over
everything? i wanted to tell him not to flatter himself.
Jan 29- i think i just didn’t want to endure the pain of physical therapy
today. i could only make it to 75 degrees, much to tina’s disappointment. she
sternly, empathetically, and professionally tells me that this just isn’t good
enough. my window of opportunity for preventing the scar tissue from impairing my range of
motion is closing, and if i miss that opportunity, i’ll limp forever. it’s
the straw that breaks the camel’s back and i begin to cry right there in front of
everyone else doing their therapy. i can’t stop crying, and god, i hate crying in
front of people. it’s the worst. "sorry, tina" i kept saying, covering my
eyes with my hands, trying like hell to hold back my pathetic sobbing. but i just
couldn’t stop. she said she understood, that everyone else in that room had been
there too. she got me some ice for my knee and my forehead, a box of tissue, and
mercifully pulled the curtain around my table. after ten eternal minutes, i was able to
compose myself, but the rest of the session was pretty much a write-off. i made some
futile attempts at my exercises, but my overall performance was sorely lacking.
although i didn’t tell alex the details, i did tell him that i had a
particularly trying day of therapy and that i was feeling a little blue. he immediately
countered by getting his friends together to (literally) carry me around boulder in a
successful attempt at lifting my spirits. this must be exactly what having real friends is
like.
Jan 30- alex meets me at winter park for dinner and my first soak in a hot tub
since surgery. i look emaciated and grotesque and decide to start avoiding my reflection
on my way out of the shower. i come down with a cold the next day on my way home and am so
exhausted that i have to pull over on the highway and sleep in the park n’ ride for
an hour. i spend the whole next day in bed.
February
Feb. 2- go into the office to take stock of what’s mine in the office and
in the company. write some final e-mails and prepare for departure.
Feb. 3- come down with another cold that keeps me knocked out in bed for 3 whole
days. this one is a doosey. i start to worry about my health. wonder if i’m anemic.
wonder if i have the flu. wonder if i’ll ever feel truly good again. wonder if doctor
kevorkian ever makes it to colorado.
Feb. 5- clean out my office and sit at my desk for the last time.
Feb. 10- find my last 15 percocet chewed up by the puppy. thank god the
puppy’s okay. i don’t bother to order a refill.
Feb 14- valentine’s day. alex treats me to dinner and surprises me at the
end of the evening with flowers. my mom loves alex.
Feb 15- feeling almost completely well after my cold. buy a computer and decide
to start working on all those projects i’ve always wanted to work on. start feeling a
little bit more normal every day. each physical therapy session gets better and less
painful. start to enjoy seeing dan and tina each week.
Feb. 18- my parents surprise me by buying me a beautiful desk. i set up my home
office.
Feb 19- sign final papers and collect money from my ex-colleagues. i’m
free!!!
March
March 1- see another therapist besides tina while she is on vacation. therapist
is unimpressed with my progress and doesn’t mind telling me so. has nothing but
disdain for my current abilities, a bummer since tina, dan and i had been so pleased with
how i had been coming along. i tried to explain to her that the tacks stuck in my meniscus
would add to my rehab time, but she didn’t seem to be listening. i sit in my car in
the therapy parking lot afterward, and cry in frustration. i hate this. my mom and dad
stop by my house later to help me get my garage organized for a garage sale. they seem so
happy to help me, and whenever they come over, they usually do much more than they
intended. today they did some shopping for me before they came over, and my mom vacuumed
those pesky stairs that are constantly dripping with dog hair. my dad worked on my garden
for a bit after working in the garage and then treated us all to dairy queen. they always
know how to make me feel better.
March 5- begin celebrating alex’s birthday. debauchery and late night
hooliganism followed by only a few hours of sleep.
March 6- continue celebrating alex’s birthday with bloodies and guiness at
8:30 a.m. follow with more debauchery and late night hooliganism.
March 7- finish celebrating alex’s birthday with a quiet (and hung over)
dinner and a lame attempt at chocolate cake.
March 8- come down with another small cold, but it’s pretty minor. even so,
i start to wonder if dr. kevorkian is listed in the phone book.
March 10- insured physical therapy runs out. my last appointment. i’ve come
a long way. my range of motion is now 0-135, not quite normal, but it’s a start. the
rest is now completely up to me. my leg actually resembles a leg instead of a grapefruit
between two twigs for the first time today. everyone wishes me luck. although i’ll
miss tina, dan, and the rest of the gang there, i won’t miss the $20/week in
co-payments.
March 12- follow up appointment with my surgeon. behind the curve, but doing
well, considering the meniscal repairs. he encourages me to keep sticking with an
aggressive work out schedule and reminds me that if there are guys in the nba with this
surgery, there’s no reason i shouldn’t try skiing again next year if i want to.
i found it ironic that the patients that have the most pain and take the longest to
recover from this kind of surgery are tall, thin women. that’s me. i’m feeling
better about my recovery now and he asks me if i’m still sorry. i say i’m not
sorry anymore, but i don’t really mean it.
March 13- take a 2 mile walk near senitas in boulder. a new high.
March 17- st. patrick’s day debauchery. spend the day and night with
friends.
March 18- tired from staying up all night, the whole day a write-off. a new low.
March 20- walk four miles in boulder. feels good, but i sure am tired when
finished.
March 21- i spend a nice day with the dogs. notice that not only have i gained
back my 10 pounds, but i’ve probably put a few more on. my belly actually looks a
little round.
March 26- go to moab with alex and jeff. spend two days camping, hiking
and having a good time. drive a stick shift for the first time since surgery. i feel good
and enjoyed the limited amount of "hiking" i was able to do while alex and jeff
rode their bikes. for the first time since the surgery, i feel genuinely relaxed and
happy. wish i could stay another day or two.
March 29- clear-headed and focused after camping, decide to publish my
experiences. think about titles, and how long it will take me to transcribe and then
layout everything. i decide that i don’t care how long it takes, this seems a
worthwhile project.
March 30- alex takes the dogs and me to boulder, where we take a beautiful
moonlit walk up senitas. the full moon was so bright, we didn’t even need lights. the
dogs had a great time and it was good for me to get out and get some fresh air. on the way
back down the path, however, i started to become frustrated with the aggravating limp that
still lingers. i’ve worked hard, and still, this freaking limp is making me
crazy! he reminds me that we are on a beautiful nature walk in the moonlight.
he’s right. i’m exhausted and a little uncomfortable after the walk and barely
make it back home conscious. i fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.
April
April 1- the cold and rain don’t seem to bother my knee much. although
dreary and rainy, i enjoy the spring day.
April 2- after an all night spring snowstorm, i take the dogs out for their
walk. they enjoy themselves, playing in the snow and i wish like hell i could run along
with them. my frustration grows a little every day. i’m going to have to learn to be
more patient with my recovery. not easy, since it seemingly effects everything else in
life. absolutely everything.
April 3- am pleased at my commitment to my daily workouts consisting of biking
for 40 minutes and 15 minutes of stairmaster. i begin to think i’m making some real
progress.
April 10- am very proud of my workouts. am actually starting to notice a
difference.
April 12- enjoy some birthday debauchery with friends. disappointment about not
being able to go dancing, etc.
April 13- try to take the day off for my birthday, but find myself working most
of the day.
April 15- spend most of the day in boulder walking/hiking. spend the evening
with friends, one of whom has had knee surgery 2 years ago. he’s doing very well and
i wonder if i’ll ever recover as well as he has.
April 21- prepare for a trip to new york where
i’ll meet alex’s family. exited and nervous. i wonder what delights/horrors
await.
April 22- arrive in new york, where i proceed to have a
wonderful three days, despite alex’s father referring to me as
"unemployed". travelling was not too bad and the damp weather did little to
bother my joints. went for a short hike and was a little disappointed to experience the
same fitness level as alex’s niece who is three years old. i limp and both my knees
complain the whole trip home on the 24th.
April 26- follow up appointment with my surgeon. he’s completely
underwhelmed by my progress and urges me to keep working on my knee. my repaired knee is
now drastically behind the curve, despite all my grueling attempts at rehab. i am down in
the dumps the rest of the day and night. feel like quitting my workouts, which obviously
aren’t working anyway.
April 27- still feeling blue. helpless and hopeless. pathetic. i’ll never
recover and i’ve never been more sorry about having surgery. what was i thinking?
what have i done? i think about scheduling an appointment with an acupuncturist…. i
can grasp at straws as well as the next guy. i fear that i will end up jobless, gimpy,
obese, and unloved for the rest of my life. god, i’m pathetic. i wish i still had
cable. my gym membership runs out in three days and it's going to be hard coughing up the
cash for the renewal.
April 29- get over feeling sorry for myself and renew my
membership at the gym. work out hard. feel like hell the rest of the
evening. i pour myself into my most comfortable chair and spend the entire evening
with an ice pack. end up sleeping on my couch all night instead of going upstairs to
bed. i think i've become a senior citizen and wonder if i can start asking for a
discount at restaurants like the black eyed pea.
April 30- another hard workout, but lighter than
yesterday's due to time restrictions. jesus, how do adults have time to get into
really great shape?
May
May 2- very hard workout followed by a short hike with alex
in boulder. feel like hell afterward and drive back home exhausted with headache,
nausea, and pain in both knees. go to bed at 9:30 pm and wake up at 8:00 am to find
the dog chewing my ice pack.
May 3- blech, i feel like going back to bed. i think
i'll spend the entire day working in my pajamas pretending i don't need to shower.
thank god i live alone. this is what happens to people without real jobs.
May 4- feel better and engage in another round of "the
joseph mengela workout" (not sure on the spelling here). is this working? i go
to bed at 9:50 pm and inaudibly mutter about how this knee is putting a damper on my
social life.
May 5- brutal workouts continue but my ice time and
exhaustion is decreasing with each session. i'm determined never again to see
disappointment in my surgeon's face. i celebrate my progress at the miss corona pageant. am feeling a little more like my old
self again.
May 6- another cold. jesus, this is ridiculous- four
colds in four months- must be some kind of record. i'm missing out on some fun
things tonight too, i can feel it.
May 7- feel a little better, although the entire day was very
unproductive.
May 9- spent a nice day at mom and dad's for mother's day.
mom made sure to pack alex and me full of food (and wine ;-)). am actually almost looking
forward to seeing how much more progress i can make at the gym this week.
May 11- uneventful workout. i'm realizing that it's very
difficult to motivate myself to voluntarily do something that i know is going to hurt.
May 12- i actually jogged today for about 10 minutes
on the treadmill! i wasn't quite brave enough to let go of the rails, but for the
first time in over six months, i timidly took to the task of some light jogging. i
felt like a goof, but i grinned the whole time.
May 16- realize that i am dropping the ball on my workouts.
i'm never going to get where i want to be with two days on five days off.
every time i think about going to the gym, i also think about a million other
things that i'd rather do, including, but not limited to: working on web sites, making
some money for a change, and root canal therapy.
June
June 1- workouts continue. range of motion, light
jogging, stairmaster, weights, range of motion is the routine. am spending much more
time walking and standing during the day than usual, with uncomfortable results in both
knees. i wonder when i'll feel normal again. only about three weeks
until my next follow up appointment with my surgeon.
June 5-
frustration,
frustration, frustration. that’s the feeling that has me hunched over the steering
wheel of my car and delays my driving home from the gym by 10 minutes after every session.
one should never spend five months making 4-5 visits per week to the gym or physical
therapy and then fume in the car afterwards.
i am certain that all this was unintended, and that this is not the experience
every patient has, but i think i have made a terrible error in judgement by having knee
surgery, and will just have to live with that.
my house needs cleaning, my laundry needs folding, my finger and toe nails need
painting, my skin needs fresh air and sunshine, the tire on my car is flat, my dogs need
exercise and attention, my bedding needs changing, my patio needs sweeping, my trash needs
emptying, my bank accounts are dwindling, my travel plans to italy are unraveling, my
business needs tending, the toyota needs washing, waxing, and vacuuming, my refrigerator
is empty, and every piece of clothing i own is wrinkled beyond even guy standards.
i’m a little overwhelmed right now.
and it’s taking every ounce of will power within me NOT to crawl into my
bed for the next two days and eat strawberry pop tarts while curled up into a fetal
position. no, i will not do that.
so i walk with a slight limp and one of my legs is markedly smaller than its
mate. and i cannot straighten my scarred leg to exactly match the other. so what? so what
if i cannot comfortably run, jog, or even walk briskly. no sir, i cannot hop on my
surgically enhanced limb. and absolutely, under no circumstances, can i participate in a
racquetball match, ultimate frisbee game, or blue light special sale at k-mart and expect
to triumph. no way. i have made a mistake, i think. i blame myself.
no, it’s not cancer. and i will probably never have arthritis as a result
of repairing that tiny little ligament that spanned my knee joint and the two meniscus
membranes that coddle it. but my life has changed. the things i consider physically
possible have changed. my perspectives have changed. i’ve changed.
and believing in the power of change gives me a little hope, actually. hope that
all this will change and i can be the same kind of active gal that i once was. someday,
maybe, my knee will NOT complain through my entire workout; my knee will NOT buckle under
my weight first thing in the morning; my knee will NOT keep me from doing all the things i
used to do and the new things that i would like to try. things really do change, and
that’s why i won’t hide under the covers of my bed today, laying on sharp
crumbles of pop tarts. i won’t do it.
everything changes, even the things that seem innately permanent. buildings
crumble, people grow old and die, even continents drift apart and together across the
earth’s great expanse. nature abhorrs a vacuum (my living room carpet will tell you
that so do i). and so maybe there’s a chance that i won’t feel like this for the
rest of my life, or even for the rest of the afternoon. maybe over time, i will forget all
this drama and will write about something else for a while. like how alex has annoyed me
today, or my dogs, or how alex has annoyed my dogs today. we’ll see what happens.
June 18- an okay follow-up appointment with my
surgeon. it's the five-month mark and by now, it's no secret that i'm sorely behind
on recovering the muscles that have gone to hell after the trauma of surgery.
when my doctor asked me how i was doing today, i told him
exactly how i felt: "i have made a terrible mistake in having surgery."
he looked empathetic and a little pained, like he had heard or felt this before,
and then he said something that made sense. something that i will probably
understand once i gain the distance from all this that time affords. he explained to me
that recovery is different for everyone and that i'll be fine with some more hard work.
the graft acting as my new ligament is strong and the knee joint very firm. the
problem is my muscles. i'm having an unbearable time convincing my quads to wake from
slumber. i always have had trouble building muscle there (and everywhere else, for
that matter).
there's no reason i shouldn't start to ski this winter, and
the pain and swelling i experience is normal for someone with two meniscus repairs.
my recovery is simply a harder road to hoe than it is for most- sometimes that
happens.
i'm fully familiar with being the late bloomer, and this is
just one more development that will take longer than it takes the average patient. or,
perhaps he was just concerned about a lawsuit. no, i'm not a cynic- why do you ask?
June 24- a startling development: numbness in my toes.
only the toes on the operated appendage too. in a moment of mild worry, i called my
surgeon's office and left a message.
June 25- numbness persists and worsens. toes are now
constantly tingly and a bit numb all day. still no call from my surgeon.
June 26- great triumph!! the
numbness is gone today, and i took my very first off-road mountain bike ride in evergreen.
it was great, and i did much better than i expected. had some soreness in the
kneecap at first, but it dissipated about 3/4 through the ride.
i went alone and picked a very easy trail so that i wouldn't
disappoint myself if i had to quit right away. no pressure and no expectations, i
told myself. just a nice, easy, enjoyable ride through the mountains. what a
great day!
it's amazing what sunshine, wildflowers and mountain
air can do to lift the spirits.
July
July 7- much like my torturously late pubescence, it seems
that things (with my knee) have changed overnight. i've always been a late bloomer.
my leg suddenly feels strong and competent, and i can actually hop on it without much
worry or pain. wow! i don't know what happened, but i'm glad about the vast
improvement, to say the least.
my workouts have become much less painful, and it's as if i
can see the pinpoint of light at the end of the tunnel. at the risk of speaking too
soon, i think things are looking up.
some of the intermittent numbness is present, but i'm not too
worried about it. no call back from my surgeon on this. good thing i wasn't
calling him about my knee falling off, as my psycho stalker
ex-boyfriend cursed upon me 5 months ago.
July 11- i enjoy a three hour mountain bike ride with a group
of beginner women. wow! my knee feels great, and although i am completely
physically exhausted by the end of the ride, i am thrilled to be back in the saddle again.
we biked many miles in boulder with chatting and some instruction from our guide
throughout. i haven't felt this normal since last fall. i led the pack for almost
the whole ride, and received many kudos for my skill.
i sleep for the rest of the afternoon and enjoy a barbecue
with alex and friends in the evening. what a great day.
July 25- i enjoy another three hour ride with two other women
in boulder. one begins to refer to me as her "mentor" until i take a
digger riding through a field of mud much too fast. although i'm tired when
finished, i'm much more functional than after my last big ride. i've now been
mountain biking a whole hanful of times this summer. a new high!
July 30- feeling much stronger, although i still limp around
in the morning and after long workouts. i continue to feel aggrivated during and after
workouts, and realize that rehab is as mentally challenging as it is physically. i
decide to try golf.
August
August 7- an epic 4 hour hike in the mountians above
nederland. quite an accomplishment i think, although i spend my evening icing my
knee and choking down advil.
August 18- an okay check up appointment with my surgeon.
he now calls me one of his "flunkies", and points out my lack of progress
to the young medical student under his tutilage. we discussed my stunning inability
to develop muscle (i already knew that), then i was asked to perform the hop test, which
measures the strength of the good leg to the repaired one.
my repaired leg has only 30% of the strength of its mate. the
average patient's leg usually is 80% by now. i refuse to let it ruin my day and get
on with my business. i told my doctor i have always been a late bloomer.
although i'm sure he's a competent technician, this isn't the
first time i've noticed that my surgeon's bedside manner is the pits.
September
September 18- rehab continues and life goes on. intermittant
pain, stiffness, and an overall lack of strength and competance remain, however. i feel
like giving up. my motivation is at an all-time low, and my activity level shows it.
i've only been on my bike a hanfull of times this year, and getting out there to
exercise virtually takes an act of congress. i don't know how physically challenged
people do it. i guess they just do it.
September 30- while trying (unsuccessfully) to make an
apointment with my surgeon four times, i decide that i'm not going back for more
checkups... what's the point? we all know what the result will be: "your muscle
development sucks, you failed the hop test again, you have to keep working out."
screw it. i'll just berate myself for free next month.
October
October 24- for the first time since surgery, i'm able to
bend my knee all the way- until my heel stops at my butt. 135 degrees in 10 months.
although i will not ski this winter, i will not participate in a tae kwondo competition
this winter, and i will not feel like my old self for a while, i will celebrate this
tiny little victory.
October 25- seeing as how i'm just going to go on about the
business of living an everyday life and forget the rigors of traditional rehab, i'm ending
the acl chronicles. i've learned volumes in the past 10 months. besides, getting
engaged has me more excited than rehabing this limp noodle i call a leg!
with my gym membership expired (again), and the winter
coming, all kinds of things could happen with my knee, my physique, and my health in
general. i feel like giving up every day. and sometimes i do give up, if only
for a day or two (or three).
i hope that what others say is true: that this too shall
pass; that in a few years i won't remember or care about all this; that things change and
improve with time; that it will heal. i hope they're right. this thing has changed my
life.
New in 2002!! The ACL Chronicles Part II Weblog: A Continuation.
More knee talk, less complaining.