ACL Surgery: Post-Op Day 5

Today was the first day that I ventured out of my apartment since surgery. After spending the last few days with my face pressed up against the window screen like my three cats, my mom came for a visit.

Albeit, the reasons for the visit were to bring my laundry and take me to a job interview. Either way, it was nice to be outside in the fresh air and sunshine. The job interview went well and my interviewers seemed impressed by my mobility on my crutches. Of course, I insisted on doing everything myself to prevent any sign of weakness showing in my interview or to my mom. (This might also explain the swollen foot.)

While the interview went well, it will be a couple of weeks before I hear either way whether or not I got the job. It is a good school district and competition is high for jobs. Of course, the highlight of the interview had to be me responding to their question of why they should hire me with: "Because I am fun." Of course about forty minutes into the interview, I was desparate for pain medicine and a bathroom. (I spent thirty minutes waiting in the lobby before the interview had begun.)

My mom who feels like she never sees me, insisted on lunch afterward, and we headed to Aladdin's to debrief over the interview. However, after a few hours outside on crutches and the cramped restraint of my metallic brace, my surgical staples were bothering me and I longed for the couch. I was probably not the best of company having eaten most of my lunch in silence.

What has surprised me about my ordeal is that while my surgery was neither complicated or lengthy, I still feel pretty wiped out. Last week I was running a 5K and feeling good, today I was sweating trying to make it up 3 flights of stairs on crutches. I also find myself worn out by company. I have been grateful that most friends have kept their recent visits somewhat brief. Even being social has been draining.

The fatigue I am experiencing, also drives home the need for rehabilitation therapy after any kind of surgical repair. It is obvious that despite my athleticism and willful stubbornness, the recovery process will be long and challenging. Any surgery exacts some sort of physical and sometimes mental measure from the patient. It also gives me a deeper respect for those people who have come through more serious and physically debilatating procedures. I am not sure I am as strong or as brave as I want to believe I am. However, I will soon have a chance to learn what kind of stuff I am made of. 

For tomorrow, the real challenge begins...physical therapy.

ACL Surgery: Post-Op Day 3

If yesterday's challenge was my allergic reaction to the Oxycodone, then today's challenge has been my swollen foot. I realize this is singular, since my left foot is normal but my root foot looks like it belongs to Andre the Giant. The swelling is probably a combination of surgery and trying to walk around too much (without crutches). I have now resorted to icing my ankle as well as my knee. 

While I can say I moved from the couch to the bed and back again several times in an attempt to get comfortable, I did manage to have a productive day. I will also say that FitBits do not work well when you are on crutches. According to my FitBit I have gone 4,257 steps today while hobbling along on crutches in my apartment. I think it's pity steps.

My mom helped me get new pain medicine today to replace the Oxycodone that made me feel like I had poison ivy all over my body. I also set-up a job interview for Wednesday, and my first therapy session for Thursday. Which means I am going to feel like Jessica Tandy the rest of the week from the movie, Driving Miss Daisy. Except I am not a cute, white-haired old lady.

My sisters have also been checking up on me regularly, which has been nice. However, they seem to wait and do it once my pain meds have kicked in. Thus my text conversations looks like this:

Sister: How are you feeling?

Me: I am okay. (Original message: I amf oklsay) 

Sister: You take off the bandages yet?

Me: Yes. (Original message before 5 minutes of editing: Yggesd)

Sister: Did you try the kimchi yet that I made?

Me: It was good. (Fell asleep for 5 minutes after writing this original message: Fhgoofd)

In other words, I am like a drunk three year old trying to type something that resembles sense on my Smartphone. To which, if you have texted me during the height of my narcotic induced stupor, I apologize. It feels like I am moving through maple syrup.

But today, was a small victory, because the bandages came off, despite the fact that my knee looks like a Van Gogh with the reds, purples, violets, and fuschia. And according to my sister who has had ACL surgery, the fun really starts with therapy.

ACL Surgery: Post-Op Day 2

So, today my post is definitely a lot less cheerful. This would also be due to the fact that the femoral block is now gone and I am having an allergic reaction to the Oxycodone. Thus, I have to forgo any strong pain medicine until the doctor calls me back on Monday. 

Today, my ankle on my right knee is about the size of Kansas and the mobility of yesterday is replaced with a snail's pace as everything hurts. The worst is finding a position comfortable enough to sleep in, where my leg doesn't feel like it's being snapped off. This is also compounded by the fact that my oldest cat, Stitch, sees my pain and wants to cuddle. Of course, he doesn't understand that 16 pounds of pressure doesn't feel good on a post-surgical knee.

Tomorrow, is the day I am supposed to remove the bandages from surgery and take a look behind curtain #1. The reality of actually being sliced into will be hard to ignore once the steri-strips and incisions are revealed in all of their glory. I am also hoping that being able to put the ice pack on top of the actual incisions will help with the pain and swelling tomorrow. 

I am already tired of the ACL brace and crutches, and it is only Day 2. And today, I lacked the courage to do any rehab exercises other than squeezing my quads. I have a feeling like any road, there is going to be some ups and downs in this journey. 

ACL surgery: Post-Op Day 1

Well if I am posting, the good news is I survived my surgery yesterday. I will admit that going into the surgery, I was nervous and frightened. Any surgery that requires anesthesia always runs the risk of complications, not to mention post-op challenges of possible tissue rejection or clotting and infection.

I have to say that nothing takes the place of quality patient care. While perhaps, I am premature in giving a review for the staff at the Health & Wellness center in Montrose, their professionalism and humor went a long way in reducing my fears. The pre-op nurse was all smiles and the anesthesiologist came in and introduced himself as "Dan" before informing me that I would be receiving the "top shelf" medicine. My orthopedic surgeon came in and marked my knee with a smiley face, and spent time with me to discuss the surgery and the femoral block I would be receiving. We also talked about our cats (his wife and him also rescue cats).

Once I was wheeled into the operating room, it was hard not feeling like I was either in the movie, Dead Man Walking, or being somewhat Christ-like as I was strapped to the table with my arms outstretched. As they prepared the arthroscope and my doctor played with cadaver tissue like kneading dough, they made conversation with me and laughed about my Anatomy students asking me to request the "pirate" option for surgery (a wood leg instead of ACL reconstruction). In fact, the surgery team decided to provide an alternative option to the wood leg as they began speaking in pirate accents, and informed me that I would be walking the plank. Of course this light banter, had an ulterior motive. As my anesthesiologist was talking about changing his Facebook page to "pirate" he injected the anesthesia into my IV. Thus, rather than the anxious lead up to being put under, instead I heard laughter from what appeared to be great team camaraderie as I fell asleep.

I woke up about an hour later in recovery to yet another cheerful nurse who offered me a virgin cranberry and vodka. Unlike the anesthesia which left me extremely loopy after wisdom teeth (I was 16), I awake feeling fully alert and was able to dress myself without assistance. By the time my mom and sister walked into recovery, I was sitting in a chair with my second "cocktail" and ready to go. 

While the femoral block lasted all of yesterday, requiring me only to take a couple of Alleve. I decided to take my Oxycodone before bed since the block would be wearing off by the next day. (I try and avoid taking any narcotic/opiate due to my family history of addiction unless necessary). 

While there is some pain today as my block has worn off, it is manageable and I am able to get around well with crutches and putting some weight on my repaired knee. It is odd knowing that yesterday I could run up and down hallways, climb stairs, and carry several bags of groceries up three flights. Or the fact that last week I played football, went line dancing, and ran a 5K, to having a leg today which feels and acts like jello. (Getting up the stairs was the biggest challenge yesterday, but I managed it pretty well).

Since I haven't had to rely on my Oxycodone today, I decided to reward my good patient behavior with a beer as I work on my quad squeezes and leg lifts. And I took a shower (although I was told not to for 3 days) by wrapping my bandages in a garbage bag. Of course getting into and out of the shower is not easy with no leg strength in my guiding knee. I am almost feel head first into the wall as my knee gave out with no brace on. However warm water and soap goes a long way in making you feel decent again.

On Monday, I will schedule my first physical therapy appointments as I begin my 6-8 month rehabilitation. In the meantime, I have been blessed and extremely grateful for the countless texts, phone calls, e-mails, and prayers from family, friends, and students alike. While it may be nice to have a man in my life for the heavy lifting, I would not trade the support I have in my life for any man right now. (If you are reading this, chances are, you are one of those people I owe my thanks to. You have no idea the extent of my gratitude for your friendships and endless support.) While I may not have a man, I am certainly not lacking in love. I feel stronger because of the strength in my life. 

Stronger

Today, like many thousands of Americans, I watched as the 118th Boston Marathon welcomed 23,000 runners to Boston. This year, the event represented much more than running. The race represented for many: strength, resilience, perseverance, overcoming adversity, and most importantly...peace. Today, we watched as runners of all ages, races, religions, and experience levels spoke as a single entity, that we would never let hatred keep us from finishing the race. It was in many ways, awe inspiring and emotional.

While the days tick down to my surgery. I find myself anxious. I have never been a good patient, and more importantly the fear of going under the knife, worries me. While the risk is minimal, there is always risk. The knowledge that I will be knowingly putting myself through a lot of pain, so that I can come out stronger than before, is also a little disconcerting. Why does healing, always require so much pain?

But watching the faces of the runners today, crossing the finish line, I realize that my own battles, while significant in my mind, are insignificant compared to what others have endured this past year. Runners and spectators who have lost limbs, suffer from shrapnel wounds, and permanent hearing loss. For some, their pain will never be over. The damage was too significant. For others, while they walk/run with no physical wounds, they are still suffering the emotional scars from PTSD. I find it hard to complain too much, about what is coming up for me, while watching what transpired today.

After talking with the physical therapist today about my treatment plans for rehab after surgery, there is a good chance that if everything goes well, I will be back to competitive form by October. Of course I felt a little goofy "practicing" using crutches and learning how to wrestle with the various seat belt straps of my ACL brace. The athlete in me itches for the challenge of what rehab will entail, the klutz in me is already nervous. However, t
he perfectionist in me wants to use the opportunity to be even stronger than before. In many ways, this feels like an opportunity. I hope I have the courage to face it.

I hope to be stronger.

Happy Easter

Happy Easter. Someday, when school is finished, I will get to enjoy holidays again. In the meantime, homemade triple very crisp and Great Lakes beer makes up for a quiet night at home (alone). 

Setbacks and Future Implications

As the poet Robert Burns once said in the poem, To A Mouse: "The best laid schemes o' mice an' men, often go awry". This has certainly been the theme of my life, the past couple of weeks.

A couple of weeks ago, I got hit from behind in what has always been known as my "bad" knee during a touch football game. Going with my instinct, that this problematic knee should really be re-examined after another MCL sprain, I made an appointment with an orthopedic doctor. My instinct turned out to be correct, and after a quick MRI, it has been revealed that my ACL is torn as well as my lateral meniscus. In fact according to the orthopedic knee specialist, I probably have not known what "normal" has felt like on that knee in years.

The knee injury that I suffered in 2008 playing indoor soccer, was probably the injury that resulted in the initial tear. Unfortunately, I had a bad doctor in North Carolina who blew me off as a female athlete and I did not fight for a second opinion even though I went down in the game with a twist and "pop" that is often indicative of a ligament tear (non-contact ACL injuries are the most common injury in female athletes). Since then, my ACL has been tearing away from my tibia, and continues to weaken under the pressure, pivoting, and movement of playing sports (I have a complete subacute-chronic ACL tear).

While, the thought of surgery scares me and the fact that rehabilitation for an allograft reconstruction of the ACL will have a recover of 6-8 months, the idea of having to give up an active lifestyle permanently scares me more. When the doctor asked me if I wanted to still play sports, I didn't hesitate to say yes. In fact, a week ago over the phone my mother said, "Well maybe you just have to give up playing all these sports". The idea of given up something that has defined who I am for most of my life, brought me to tears. I chokingly responded, "I am too young at 33 to give up what has made me the happiest in my life".
 
And it is true. While I no longer win trophies, and I am certainly in the back of the pack in races, the joy of being able to call myself an athlete is a large part of how I identify myself to others. Bruised shins, stinky running shoes, multiple sticks of deodorant and body glide, endless pairs of mismatched socks, athletic apparel over dresses in my closet, finisher medals, various athletic equipment in my car trunk, and a myriad of coaching experiences; defines who I am. I would not be the same person without a life involving sports.

I said a few weeks ago, that part of my motivation to get into shape, would be to focus on helping motivate and encourage my friends in their own pursuits towards a happy and active life. It seems God is making sure I will follow through on that statement. Having this surgery means that I will not able to participate in any sort of athletic event for the next 6-8 months. Meaning my first race of the season (White Hot 5K), will also be my last race of the season.

But as much as this is a setback, it also has a lot of promise. The future implication of this surgery is that my leg and knee will be stronger than ever before. That I might be able to actually run without pain, and that I can participate in my favorite sports without feeling like my knee will give out or snap in half. It also means that with my rehabilitation program I will have an opportunity to focus and train hard on getting back into physical shape. That there will be no excuses and no procrastination.

So while I had planned to post about my training this summer, and my races. Instead, I ask that you walk with me through my journey of recovery as I will be blogging about coming back from a setback, and preparing myself to be a better (and stronger) athlete in 2015.