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| Morning of surgery. 38 days ago I was told to bike for 30 minutes. It felt good! |
Well it's been 38 days since my right foot has touched the ground and absorbed any sort of weight. I've been in crutches for the past 38 days, with 3 days left of complete non-weight bearing. This is of course assuming my doc gives me the all clear to start weaning, no reason he wouldn't, but this whole experience has been not normal. When I had the injury most people said my ACL was not torn. It was. Most people said I didn't have meniscus damage, but I did.
I learned the day before surgery from my doc that if I did have a large enough tear he would fix it and that would mean that I would be non-weight bearing for 6 weeks. I kind of felt like the wind got knocked out of me, because I had been preparing for a different recovery situation. I tried really hard to think positively and just tell myself not to worry because "worrying means you suffer twice." The next day was surgery, and when I came out all I really remember were 2 things. 1. The doc telling me that he fixed my ACL, my meniscus and my cartilage damage. So 6 weeks=no weight on the leg. But the surgery went "perfect." 2. The pain. It was like I didn't even have a nerve block. They had to try a couple of things before I finally had some relief. I could not quit crying, and I figured that was a combination of the yuck news and the pain. Luckily, I learned my lesson my last knee surgery and stayed on top of my meds and didn't have much pain at all after this.
I had no idea to range of emotions that I would go through during this rehab time, and I realized that I needed to document it now before I'm off and running again and forgetting that this all even happened.
ISOLATED: Not only could I not walk without crutches, but I haven't been able to drive. The weekends have been the hardest. I have gone to friends houses and had friends over, THANK GOODNESS. But still it has been so isolating and the snow/ice has made it worse. When it was nice, I was able to get myself outside and that felt better. The snow/ice has really kept me inside in fear of falling. I also have felt like I don't want to bitch about my current state, so even though I have reached out to people-it's hard to really reach out as much as I want to without sounding ridiculous. I recently got in touch with an old friend who has been in crutches about as long as I have, and that was so refreshing to talk with someone who knew exactly what I'd been going through.
CHALLENGING MY COPING SKILLS: For the past couple years I got into a rhythm of working out every day but Sunday. It was how I preferred to start my days and made everything so much more tolerable. I could stand the crying over a stolen pencil at work, I could tolerate the bickering between my kids at home. When my days were filled with suicide assessments, I could come home ok because my body had worked out and seemed to help process it. If it was a really hard day, I would go change my clothes and take a VERY long and very hot shower to let it all go. This injury has changed those coping skills for me. Getting dressed and undressed is a process. Working out is not what it used to be, because I'm so exhausted from crutching around all day that I couldn't even imagine trying to do anything other than my PT exercises (and even that is hard some days). AND showering...well that involved a bench and lots of "please baby jesus don't let me... fall when I scoot from the stepstool outside of the shower to the bench inside of the shower. OR when I decide to stand up for a second. Or when I think I should try to shave. OR when I get out of the shower and accidentally put my clothes too far from the stepstool OR when I go to get up and find out that there's some water on the ground and then I have to find the towel and pick it up." You get the drift. Showering isn't what it used to be.
MY ENERGY: I feel like EVERYTHING takes, on average, an extra 5 minutes, to do with crutches. From going to the bathroom, to making my eggs, to getting copies from the copier, or checking in with admin about a high risk situation, or packing up for the day. I feel like I use all my energy before 3pm and when I get home, I am a bump on a log. That's been hard. I feel like that is how I used to be before I started working out. The emotional toll would be so great that I couldn't be as present with the kids. I started working out and I did so much better. Well, these past 6 weeks has been exhausting. Russell has definitely seen the worst of me, probably because it's way easier to break down to your person than to break down to your colleagues/students. For this, I will be forever in debt to Russell.
I'M A DO-ER, NOT A BE-ER: I knew this was going to be a challenge for me. But I'm telling you....this has been hard. Real hard. My eyes are like hawk eyes-I see messes, I see creative opportunities, I see picture walls, I see creative uses for furniture, I see snowmen and women, I see opportunities for exercise and play and fun. BUT my only way to see these things through was with my hands and my legs working together. This was not much of an option. I have spent many hours in total with this feedback loop in my head: "Hey! That wall space over there would look really great with that painting on it. Where is that painting? Go get it. Oh wait.. you can't carry it? Could you put it in a bag? It's too big. Should you ask AJ? He's gone. What about Dempsey? She just helped me with something? Russ? He's been doing everything for the kids and you just had him carry your drink over. Nevermind. I'll do it WHEN. I. CAN.WALK AGAIN!" Whosoever idea it was for me to tear my ACL, move into a new house, and then have surgery so I can't really decorate has a wicked sense of humor. Dempsey continually has said, "Mom can (go swimming/play outside in the snow/go skiing/etc) when she doesn't have crutches anymore." It's true. And sad. And I sometimes can't stand how much I don't do, that I want to do with them.
ASKING FOR HELP GETS REALLY OLD: Like really old. AND I also feel like I have 9 million instances in a day where having some help would be really nice, but at the end of the day I'm not helpless and I just really have to choose my battles. At work my buddies have been so wonderful and don't even ask me anymore. They open my door, turn on my lights, take my lunch to the fridge, warm my food, etc. At home, Russell helps with my eggs, opens/closes doors before/after me, gets me dessert at night, asks me what I need every night, and the list goes on. I get that feeling of no longer wanting to ask for help because you feel like you do it all the time, but you are still so tired and could really use the help.
IT'S BEEN SAD: I actually get a little teary writing this, but honestly it's the truth. This has been the hardest thing that I have physically went through ever. It's challenged my body image, it's challenged my pride, it's challenged my invisibleness, it's challenged my patience, it's challenged my belief system in why things happen, it's challenged my fears. I've totally grieved missing out on my kids learning to ski at the mountain. I've grieved losing (though temporarily) all the hard work that I've put into strengthening my body. I've grieved not being able to do the things I want to do with my friends. I've been kept inside and at home more than normal, and that's been sad. As we get ready to go to the beach this weekend to celebrate my Grandpa's birthday-I grieve that I won't be able to run in the sand, or play in the ocean, and jump in the pool. One of my greatest faults is I have FOMO. Fear of missing out. It's one of my biggest faults, and at the same time one of things that makes me me. I totally have this appreciation for life and I want to DO IT ALL. As Ryker once said, "I want to do all the things." Well, I've been halted. AND it's hard to miss out.
FEAR: These injuries this past year have really questioned my thinking. I'm going to be super real, real quick. I used to think if I stayed active, that I could literally keep Huntington's Disease away from me. I convinced myself that by working out and challenging myself, it could not get to me. Now I'm not saying that I don't believe in this, but the fault of this argument is that I feel tied to working out and the fear if I don't is strong. So not only have I not been working out, but my body has been disabled.. Though it is temporary, it is very hard not to be instantly put back into a young girl who watched her mom get more and more disabled and be insanely fearful that it might happen to her.
The fear has also been at times paralyzing. The past 6 weeks I have been in preservation mode...meaning I knew that my knee was healing and that I could not hurt it or else it could impede healing. It's REALLY hard to be on crutches and have that thought constantly. DO NOT FALL. DO NOT FALL. DO NOT PUT PRESSURE ON FOOT. It's like every movement counts. Talk about taking moving for granted. One more reason that I'm been insanely detailed on this post-because I never want to forget this feeling. As I move to the next phase of being weight bearing and starting to push my knee, I have to push away the fear demons. Fear of injuring it again. Fear of not being able to run again. Fear of not wanting to ski, but wanting to ski. Fear of hiccups along the way. Fear that I've lost my grit/my Megan/my thing that makes me/me.
Russ and I have had some deep conversations...two of which stand out to me. I have been a pretty confident/independent person, but throughout this time I have wavered. I didn't like that I had become a gooey mess, but I also had to come to terms that I was in fact a broken individual that needed some extra love. Russ luckily heard what I said and admitted it was hard to see me that way. TELL me about it. It's been hard to realize the reality of my feelings and status. Luckily this piece of it lasted the first 3 weeks and has been so much better this last half as I have adapted to crutch life. The other thing we talked about was the fear of skiing. Since this incident happened with skis, and even when I snowboarded the winter mountain has been intimidating to me, I have had lots of discussions of getting back out there. Russ told me that I just need to snowboard, and forget skiing. He said, "You can't do this again." And that is where I think he is wrong. Because as much as I want to just snowboard because I don't want to put skis on me again, I can't live in fear of this injury happening again. If I live like that, I'll just be pedaling my bike in my basement for the rest of my life. Even though it would be devastating if this happened again, I will survive. I did it once, and can do it again. I will not let fear win. I will also not push myself to fast. Slow and steady will win this race.
Through it all, I've had some really important moments. I have learned to say yes to the kids for a video game or board game, instead of cleaning or finding something else to "do". I have realized how many awesome people I have in my life that are willing to help with anything, all I have to do is ask. My parents and parents in law have been here for me at the drop of a hat, and that is something I will be forever grateful for. Even though I'm sad and gooey, I have truly done a really good job of getting through and going about my life. My PT is just as much a therapist as she is a PT, and I am very grateful to her. I have proven to myself that I can not workout for many days in a row, and still be okay. I can have a bigger butt and it's ok. I can look at working out differently-because holy crap crutching is hard, and these little PT exercises make a huge difference in the long run. I can learn new things-like guitar, and mail merge, and how to play Super Smash Bros. I have learned how much my kids can help me out, and how as a family this has bonded us in a totally different way than ever before. I have witnessed how much Russell steps up, and does what he needs to for me and the family. And of course I've learned it's okay to not be ok. And how I can do hard things.
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| Dempsey drew this for me the day after my surgery. She knew I was uncomfortable. |
So if I already lost you, that's ok. This ode is for me to remember, and read often. It's for when I'm back doing my mountain things, and I want to remember where I came from. It's when I'm injured because if I want to do adventurous things, no doubt I will be injured, and I will need to remember I can push through and get even stronger in more than one way. It's for all the things.
3 more days. Counting/not counting.
Love,
Meg
