Not Just Another Day

I have injured myself too many too many times to keep track of since the end of April. The first fall ended in surgery and there have been other falls leading up to the this latest one.

It is a perfect storm of sorts: my bones and body is weak from anorexia and my injured knees are not stable thus I am prone to falls.

This last fall was bad. I fell off the porch as my bad knee gave out and sent me air borne missing four steps on the porch and landing in a heap on the pavement.

There were two knee injuries, a thumb injury and a wrist injury.

That was like a three weeks ago. Since then I have seen the doctors and now have a walker, yes a walker to get around and need subsequent surgeries.

Today is my first appointment with the surgeon who will be operating on one of my knees first. It was considered my good leg as I had never had surgery or injured before. Not like my other leg that has undergone two reconstructions and 13 scopes over the years.

I haven’t met this doctor before, he is an addition to the “team.” He was recommended to me by another orthopedic surgeon who said this new doctor was the only one who did a particular surgery on my OTHER knee. I know it is a mess, confusing, and I am a walking, or gimping train wreck.

Today I believe we review an already reviewed MRI showing damage, and I believe the first surgery date will be set today to finally get things moving along.

I am nervous about what my body requires surgically to get to well or at least to better. I always said I would never let anyone operate on my “good” knee. Funny or not so funny how things change. I am in so much pain with this leg, I would be ecstatic if they told me surgery was tomorrow. At least I would know relief is coming soon.  I have tons of pain pills and I can’t take them as they don’t agree with me. The pain my body feels is starting to feel like Chinese water torture. Everyday it hurts a little bit more, because it needs to be fixed: 2 knee surgeries including my bad knee reconstructed and a thumb reconstruction. I see the hand doctor on September 7, 2016.

As you might guess this process is going to take time…..I can’t have both knees post-op at the same time, and well I need my thumb damaged as it is, to help keep me upright with the walker. As I write this I could probably cry-but I am almost numb to my situation.

Like I said the perfect storm: weak body all over from anorexia and now injured joints my body needs well to keep me upright and mobile.

I laugh because when I first hurt my knee the end of April, I had surgery and the doctor told me I probably couldn’t run and do road races anymore. I cried and begged him to do everything he could so I could run again. His attitude was it was pretty good that I would be able to walk and possibly hike again.  Today I think about my injuries and the prospect of waking and it is so fucking far away. I would kill just to be able to walk and move my so active body that is backing up on me without the intense physical exercise I am used to putting it through.

Wow you never know. Thought my world was crashing and burning because I might not run, now relegated to a walker outside the house and crutches inside the house.

It sucks even more because with the necessity of the walker certain activities are out of reach. This is Labor Day weekend and my daughter, Bella, wants to be either surfing at the beach or at the waterpark. I can’t really go watch her surf because I can’t get the walker through the sand, and I am completely useless at the waterpark. So not only am I personally challenged, I am challenged to be able to do things with my daughter, friends and family.

I know what you are thinking-there are people who can’t walk and are even more confined than I. Some of these people it is on a permanent basis. So what’s my fucking deal, right? I feel the same self -loathing as you probably do for me. How dare I complain, how dare I feel bad for myself. I know, I get it, but it is what it is.

So today is not just another day. I am meeting a new surgeon with new ideas, who will receive me in his own way. I have to remind them as I approach forty I WAS a division 1 full-scholarship basketball player. I WAS a competitive road racer. I am not done. My first surgeon, a nice guy, made me feel like he just wanted to put me out to pasture. I  pray he hasn’t gotten in the head of this new doctor, and left the same impression.

I seriously want the next available surgery slot damn it! I want to start fixing so my body can start healing. I pray today is positive I have no idea about this surgeon except he is the only one who can do my patellar ligament reconstruction on my bad knee. I might decide to live with my fucked up thumb. It has been reconstructed twice, requires pins sticking out of me and it isn’t on my left hand which is great because I am left-handed. I want to get to the gym.

I try to do the calendar math but I don’t know what this first surgery entails in terms of immobilization and recovery. I know with the reconstruction I am in the hospital for 4 days and then sent to an in-patient rehab facility for two weeks before returning home. I don’t know if walking is something they have you do right away. With my last ACL reconstruction 13 years ago, I woke up with my leg attached to a passive-motion machine to get and keep the joint moving. I have no idea about the kind of reconstruction I need now.

So today is a game changer or is at least potentially. I either get an aggressive surgeon (that is what I want and need)  or I get another surgeon like the one I have been dealing with who wants to put me out to pasture.

I am ready to fight for myself and my ability at 40 to still run or at least race  walk and hike mountains. I will not take the heading out to pasture lying down. Feisty? How about a little sunshine with a lot of hurricane today?

Nobody else but me can advocate for my way back to well. Nobody but me has everything to lose or gain. I am prepared to just take the bad ass attitude and march in there at 1:20 pm today and blow this doctor to pieces before he gets the chance to diminish me and my lifestyle and my body.

Not sure yet. Thus far I haven’t put up a fight and thus far I have been going from bad to worse with surgery after weeks of physical therapy. Cut now, I am ready, and fix my freaking good knee so I can get my bad knee reconstructed and I guess fuck the thumb reconstruction! It will only interfere with working out and I will get a High-Tec brace made on site from the brace shop. Other than that I should be good to go.

So I got my game plan. Fix the fucking good knee STAT, see the hand doctor and tell him I don’t want it fixed. However that goes will be fine. I know the hand surgeon as he has dealt with compound fractures on both my hands one year apart. I can handle him. I am in a brace as it is and I will go to blessed Occupational therapy to get my hand back to wherever we can get it.

Today is NOT just another day and my appointment is just NOT another appointment. I need to grab the bull by the horns and stick up for myself. I refuse to rot for one more second. Done. Pansy-assed game with my body over! If this doctor gives me shit I go to Boston where all but my last two surgeries have been done and where a body like mine belongs. I am no fucking joke!