One month ago, I was heading into surgery, going to bed with healing thoughts on my mind, knowing that the cutting, slicing, suturing and autografting would result in a new beginning. Yes, the ski season was over, yes the recovery was going to be long, but if I could just get past the surgery I would nail the recovery!
It’s gone by quickly, the first 24 hours being the most painful, then each day a bit better. Bigger milestones hit day 3 & 4, each day a roller coaster of highs and lows. Then I became more mobile, with PT sessions at Panorama as well as home exercises, and the noticeable progress was incredibly encouraging. Every day was a bit stronger, my knee was a bit better.
After a full week post surgery I had ditched the crutches (I was PUMPED about that!) and was on the road to walking normally. A full month before surgery, my gate was completely thrown due to the injury, and I couldn’t fully straighten my leg, so I couldn’t wait to get my normal strut back. Little did I know that would be one of the major setbacks.
Day 13 and I was still off a bit. Mike filmed me to prove it.
On Day 16, I had several PT appointments under my belt and I had even started pedaling a bit. At this point, the lack of physical activity had gotten under my skin a bit, so I ordered a trainer for my bike. This was exciting! And painful as hell!
Then the progress stopped. Halted. Ceased to exist. My gate was still F’ed. My knee still ached and felt really uncomfortable. I still couldn’t fully straighten. I was trying to take it easy, but still do my exercises 3 times a day….and nada.
After 3 full weeks, I was able to leave the big brace behind, so that was something. And I tried to be perky and grateful for all of the wonderful things in my life. A work conference came to Denver, and it was just the distraction I needed to remind me of all the good.
And today I had my one-month. And the Surgeon confirmed my fears. My knee was a bit inflamed, I’m at 3 (straight) and 120 (bent) and he told me to back off activity, take the next MONTH to get to 125. To stop biking. To not swim. I shouldn’t walk for long distances (an hour would be too long). To take it easier.
Going into my appointment I could envision him clearing me to swim, telling me I could increase the PT, really pick up the momentum with the leg exercises (more squats, biking, walking). I thought I was actually behind in that category, so could almost hear him telling me I needed to push it.
The air left the room as these words were uttered. I felt as though someone had punched me in the chest. My throat got hot and I had to choke back the tears as I uttered, “I didn’t think I could be doing less.”
I couldn’t be more embarrassed of my devastation, knowing I am so blessed in so many areas (most of the areas!) in my life. As I drove home, swallowing the urge to cry, I kept reminding myself of all the goodness, the so, so, so much goodness in my life. And then my mind wonders back….it’s been a hard, one-month post op day.
Tomorrow’s another day!
