Happy Monday
And I live to tell the tale!
If you read my blog from the start you know how I got here for those of who do not, let me catch you up.
It was the second to last day of our week long stay and the husband and I were out on the slopes with a friend. We started early in the morning and ate breakfast in the dark while our friend's wife slept (she pretending not to be pregnant but we knew) and it felt like we were about to embark on some big adventure.
The morning was glorious! We skied diamonds, double diamonds and, by midmorning, we stopped to warm up and get a new game plan. It was getting warmer and the crazies started to crowd the trails, so the good skiing was coming to an end. Off to one of our favorite areas we went. It is usually “crazy” free and the snow was getting soft. As I came down the trail called Rime, I caught an edge. From what I remember, I flew through the air (the husband has a different version although similar).
I remember flying, I remember being air born, I remember feeling a "pop" in my knee and you just know.
Doogie Howser and Marcus Welby took excellent care of me at the clinic on the mountain and confirmed my assumption. They made me walk out of the clinic with a brace (they said it didn’t actually brace anything but made me remember to walk properly).
I had surgery on January 14 (it was supposed to be on Jan 11 but that is a story for another time). They used the patella tendon to repair the ACL. This type of ACL repair limits the possible rejection of donor parts and ultimately a stronger knee although a longer recovery.
I went through months of physical therapy. Of course it was January and I do believe we had record snow fall. I would get myself to PT via taxi (a block and a half ride). Standing on the freezing cold corners waiting for a cabby to have the mercy and pick up the handicapped person is a scary time. Picture this, I have a leg brace that has my leg locked out at zero and I am not allowed to bend it unless in PT. I'm on crutches and the ground is snow and ice covered.
There were many days that I had to fight for a cab. Imagine people who would jump in front of an obviously injured woman hobbling slowly toward a cab (I know, again, another time). At home, there were 4 hours on CPM machine a day that would bend my knee as much as it could to break up the scar tissue.
Home alone, I cried (a lot). Not feeling sorry for myself but out of pure frustration of not being able to do things for myself.
Eventually, progress was made. The week before my wedding, I was allowed out of the brace. I will say now, this was even scarier because with the brace everyone knew I was broken. Without it I had to stand on my own two feet and fend for myself on the city streets.
I got married, went back to work, went on my honeymoon and, in August of this year, I was cleared by my surgeon to begin running again.
This past weekend the husband and I went to our home in VT to kick off our ski season. I had no idea it would be that hard. I have sustained many injuries in my sports activities. None of them have required surgery. To say I was scared isn't accurate; I am not sure what the emotions is just yet but bear with me. Perhaps we will figure out by the end.
The plan was: get to the top and take the green to bottom. The husband dropped me off with the equipment and went to park the car. I stood in my ski boots waiting (very painful walking for the first time ski boots because they force you to bend your knee). My skis (yes, those skis) were beside me and thoughts about the last time I had them on my feet filled my head. I cried. I stood in the cold and watched all the skiers and riders approaching with anticipation while tears rolled down my cheeks. I too wished for a great day on the mountain. I wanted to go that badly but not sure my body was going to work (at least the way I thought it would). The husband got me and changed the plan (oh no!). He suggested a flatter area (phew). We walked (and I cried). I procrastinated to put my skis on (and cried) and watched him put on his skis (and cried). Finally the skis were on my feet and started down the small hill. This hill is flatter than the learner hill (and I cried).
I relied on my technique and the quad muscles that I have worked so hard to get back after surgery. They atrophied almost immediately after surgery. I gained a little confidence knowing that my technique remained and moved a little faster. There were no diamonds or double diamonds this day but the achievement was great. I did the thing that I was most afraid to do and that was to go back something that hurt me.
I know I will face additional challenges as we go through the season and probably some pain and definitely some swelling, but I did it (and yes, I am still crying)!
Happy Monday!
Laura