Saturday, December 5, 2020

Meg Knees 2.0



Well last Friday was the year anniversary of the day that I tore my ACL.  MY GOSH it's been a year.  If one would have told me that I would have 2 knee surgeries and rehab my body the entire year, and that would only be a small part of the drama of 2020--I'm not quite sure what I would have said.

BUT seriously.  WHAT a year!!!!!!!!!!!!  I calculated that by the time this year is over, I will have attended physical therapy 65 times since I injured by knee!  65 times!  That's crazy.  Did you know that insurance only covers 60 sessions of PT in a year.   Yeah, me either.  And truly the insurance lady and I laughed because we thought that number was ridiculous and that I didn't have 60+, and then I counted.

65. 

So first I had surgery and then I needed crutches.
Then I could kind of walk.  And I mostly PT'd my left leg (not the ACL one).
Then I started focusing on the ACL leg and PT'd a ton.  Lots of strengthening and balance and range of motion.
Then I focused on my left knee pain that hadn't let up and learned some cool Jedi mind tricks for pain, resulting in a SEVERE reduction/almost non-existent daily dose of ibuprofen that I had been accustomed to. 
Followed by trying to run again, many months after I thought I'd be able to run.
Then slowly slowly slowy continued with PT, even when I thought I might be done.
Then going to ortho doc to be told...you aren't JUMPING or cutting.  You aren't doing anything you should be doing.  I didn't not appreciate that comment, and I let him know that. BUT when I thought I was done with PT, I was just getting started.
TO going to a new PT-to be treated like an Olympian and be challenged mentally and physically EVERY.SINGLE.WEEK.  So much so that I have to call my parents and explain how bad I got my ass handed to me, every single week, because I'm afraid no one else would listen to me anymore.

I am weeks away from being released from PT.  Weeks away from being released from having to see my ortho surgeon.  I spoke to the nice insurance lady at my Orthopedic Center and I told her..."No offense, but I don't really want to see you all ever again."  She said, "Likewise."  So that's cool that the feelings are mutual.

But seriously.  2020.  I just can't get over what a freaking year it has been for me personally, and then for the world.  I recently started working with a trainer (virtually) and I'm pretty sure that I'm approaching the strongest that I've ever been.  I have worked so darn hard both at PT and with my training, and sometimes I'm physically exhausted with it all.

I keep thinking that I'm almost done.  Almost done with these stupid BFR machine exercises I'm doing in PT.  I'm almost done getting nervous before PT because I know that it's going to push me physically and even more mentally.  I'm almost done JUMPING 20 times in a row, just to take a break and do it again.  I'm almost DONE working out in a mask at PT.  I'm almost done feeling like the tin man every time I get out of the car after a long car ride.  I'm almost done questioning a twinge that I feel.  

I still remember trying to take my first steps with Russell and the doctor.  I was so weirded out, and it wasn't natural.  AND now...now I'm box jumping.  I'm cutting.  I'm balancing on a bosu.  I'm one leg jumping.  I'm considering actually snowboarding this year, so I can enjoy the mountain with my family.  I'm doing things that felt like I would never get to do, if you asked me a year ago.  

When I think about this past year-I guess two words that pop up for me are proud and grateful.  I'm really proud of myself.  It wasn't always pretty, but I do think that I really did everything I could to make this the best possible experience it could be.  I worked my butt off doing the exercises I was supposed to do, I remained positive and hopeful.  I focused on what I could do and tried to avoid being too bummed with what I couldn't do.  And grateful.  I'm so grateful for Russell, who stood by my side through it all.  He handled the home, while I spent those 65 hours at physical therapy.  He listened to my woes.  I'm thankful for my family and friends....and my kids.  Especially my kids who dealt with a Mom that was less able than she wanted to be.

I recently started getting back to playing tag.  Doctors orders.  I can't say I'm 100%, but I'm playing and trying!  I completed a 30 minute run without any pain!  Soon I'll join my family on the mountain!  Russ and I will be backpacking next Summer.  I will continue to get stronger!  And maybe...I'll get some tattoo to honor my story.  I'm NO doubt a more humbled, empathetic soul for going through this.  And even though I wished it didn't happen, I'm grateful at how much this has opened my eyes to really appreciating every.single.thing.

Love,
Mom

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