So here we are a full year after my ACL reconstruction and medial meniscectomy. 

I had grand plans to write this post at exactly 4 weeks post-op, but that didn't happen because I'm lazy. Well, not really, I'm feeling pressed for time at times, because it takes me longer to do everything now and I'm having to prioritize and schedule my day down to almost the minute so that I can get everything done that I'd like to get done, and that wasn't writing this post - until now.

Or as I wanted to call this post - SQUATS, SQUATS, SQUATS!

So last week, I shared how my first 8 days went. You can find the post {HERE}. I will say that this week was much better in both terms of my recovery and how I spent my days. I really am not one to lay around and do nothing. It drives me crazy which, in turn, drives my family crazy. I can't not do things. True, I've been making great progress on my colorful cow, but there's only so much cross-stitch that I can do before I go all blurry-eyed. Pulling out the computer is ok, but I really need to be active. I miss my endorphins! Luckily, these last 6 days have found me actually working up a sweat while doing my daily PT exercises.

So my last update was right after my first PT visit since then I've had 2 more visits and they've added more exercises to my repertoire! Squee!

First things first, however, Thursday was my first day doing my exercises at home. It was painful for everyone in the house. However, before I woke the hubs so we could do the exercises, I went downstairs and made myself coffee, well two cups of coffee. By myself! Who knew that making yourself a morning cup of coffee would be so liberating? After enjoying both cups of coffee, I went back upstairs to get the real work done. I decided that I wouldn't eat breakfast until my exercises were done. We went through the exercises the way that my PT told me to do. Hubs was super awesome and did his spotter job admirably. The leg lifts were difficult, the knee bends were agonizing, but the quad sets weren't bad until the kids asked my right leg wasn't doing as much as the left leg. It's working children! You just can't see it. The left leg doesn't have to work as hard. There were definitely tears involved. There wasn't pain, but the effort and the newness of moving the leg took its toll. I don't know if I mentioned in my last post, but the ice therapy machine that I got is worth at least 4 times it's water-weight in gold. The ice machine after my exercises is one of my favorite parts of the day.

Friday was day 2 of PT and my therapist was on vacation, so I had a substitute therapist. She was quite nice and competent if a little hesitant to adjust my brace. I was disappointed that my brace wasn't adjusted, but there was improvement during my leg lifts and the addition of side leg lifts was fun. She barely had to help me get my heel off the table during both exercises, which was exciting because that is what I struggled with during those same exercises on Wednesday and Thursday. Also, I discovered that I can walk down the stairs without my crutch. I'm still holding onto the railing, but I managed those stairs by myself!

So I woke up early both Thursday and Friday but didn't think much of it. Then it happened again on Saturday. I mean I didn't have an alarm set, but 6:14 came and my eyeballs were open. Weird, but maybe my internal clock was just resetting itself, but this is 3 days in a row where I've awoken between 6:12 and 6:14. It's just curious. So anyways, I'm awake which means coffee! I walked all the way downstairs, made my coffee, and then enjoyed it without touching my crutch once! Woot! That was pretty amazing. The house woke up fairly early, and we got my exercises done. I didn't need help with any of the leg lifts, and the hubs was duly impressed. It was nice to show off a bit. Afterward, the hubs went downstairs to start working on the garage, and I had the Big Guy bring up the new shower shelves so I could get them built. Building those shelves was a little job, but it was big for me.

Sunday found me waking up early again, and as has become my habit, I wander downstairs for coffee and me-time. The early morning routine has become one of my favorite moments. Its just me, usually, and I can get myself prepped for the day. I write in my journal and organize my bullet journal. I work on little crafts with Baby Girl. I sip my coffee and just enjoy myself. We pick up Small Fry from camp, and then after we get home he gets to see how much I've improved. He's a pretty good cheerleader. We then moved me out of our bedroom and back down into the family room. No more convalescing in the bedroom! The afternoon found me going to my parents' house and visiting with them and my grandparents. It was a lovely day.

6:12 and my eyeballs are open. Hello Monday. Why do I even bother setting an alarm at this point? I make my coffee, and spend some time with the Big Guy. We head to PT just before 8. I get to warm-up on the recumbent bike. I was supposed to be on there for 10 minutes, but somehow it ended up being 12. Oops. Not sorry. I also kept asking for resistance, because it was easy. The knee felt good and wasn't fighting the movements at all. My therapist was fussing at me for pushing more, but it was easy. She almost threw my protocol at me, well not really, but she did bring it over and told me we were following it and not going to deviate. She then told her assistant that I was going to have to be reigned in. I don't know which is worse in the world of PT, having a patient that doesn't want to do or having one that wants to do too much. Both probably have their own sets of headaches. After the time on the bike, I got to walk across the area to the barre. It was scary, and they had to fetch me a cane. Then we had to keep lengthening the cane because of tall people problems. I make it to the barre, and I didn't fall. I got to do mini squats, only bending the knees to about 30° and then it was on to calf raises. Love calf raises! So after that, it was onto wearing the brace again and all the leg lifts. We upped my reps to 30. I was working up a definite sweat during this visit, and it felt marvelous. The ice compression machine felt amazing. I took the kids to the pool and let them play for about 90 minutes. The heat took a toll on me, and after we got home I took a shower. My knee felt unstable in the shower after trying to pick the soap up off the floor. That was not very fun, so after I got out of the shower I laid on the couch and proceeded to take a nap.

Today has started just like the last 5 days. 6:12 and I'm awake. I take my time over my coffee this morning though. Baby Girl and I made a perler bead cupcake, and then I head back upstairs to do my exercises. The hubs was nervous for my exercises today because of the addition of the squats and lifts, but it was all good. The knee aches a bit today, probably from all the use and abuse and I've put it through, but it's not terrible.

SQUATS! SQUATS! SQUATS!

So overall week 2 has gone much better and I'm excited to see what the next week brings. I'm still working towards not sleeping with the brace on and being able to drive, but every day I see improvement so I am quite pleased with how everything is progressing.

Thanks so much for stopping by today!

Yesterday marked one week since my ACL/meniscus repair surgery and it has been a week.

It started off innocently enough, but then it got hard, went to ok, and finally ended on terribly wonderful. If you follow me on Instagram {HERE} then you'll have seen some of what my first week was like.

So the surgery went well, but coming out of anesthesia took ages, which seems to be the norm me, but it did prompt one of the recovery nurses to ask if I was still breathing. Yep, just want to go back to sleep, but I'm still here.

Getting home was a bit of a trial. The movement of the car plus the meds made me a bit car sick, which I don't know that I've ever suffered from. I do not like it.

Home from surgery.

Once home we settled me on the couch, and then I proceeded to flit between being awake and asleep for the next several hours. Getting up to go the bathroom was awful. The downstairs bathroom is not great for a person whose leg needs to stay fully extended. We made it through the day, and I hobbled my way upstairs at the end of the night.

The 2nd day was much the same, I was feeling quite accomplished at getting dressed and then heading downstairs. I even made it outside to watch the fireworks since it was the 4th of July. Getting upstairs was agonizing.

Watching the kids play with sparklers on the 4th.

The 3rd day was almost identical to the 2nd day. I enjoyed the time I spent with the kids, but getting up off the couch and into the bathroom was hellish. The trek up the stairs on the 3rd day was the worse one. I was exhausted and there were so many stairs.

Day 4 dawned and I decided to stay upstairs in my bedroom. The kids brought up my computer and cross stitch. The hubs brought up a TV, and while mentally it was the toughest day because I felt like my leg had won, it was really the best decision. Our bed is quite high off the floor and it makes it so much easier for me to get in and out of it. Our bathroom also has a nice half wall next to the toilet so it made a great handrail for me. I was really grumpy about my decision to stay in the bedroom, but it really was the best decision.

Wearing cute socks while locked in my Ivory Tower was my coping mechanism.

Days 5 - 7 were spent lounging in the bedroom. The kids played the switch, and I got an education in Splatoon 2 that I didn't know I needed. I caught up on computer stuff and made some great progress on my colorful cow cross stitch. I also ventured out to see my parents on Sunday and spent a lovely morning with them. Staying in my bedroom seemed like I was letting the injury win, but in reality, I think I allowed me to heal and rest more comfortably.

Hanging out with Momma!

Watching the men talk about building plans.

Day 8 or Post-Op Day - I couldn't sleep. I was like a kid at Christmas. I couldn't wait to unwrap my leg and see the damage. I must've woken up 3 or 4 times, and each time it was a fight to get back to sleep. Finally, it was actually time to wake up and get ready. We still made it to my doc appointment 20 minutes before my scheduled time, and then my doc ended up running 20 minutes late. ARGH!

I'm finally called back and the nurse tells me they're gonna take x-rays, but first, we're taking off my bandages! I was still like a kid at Christmas. I was so excited that I was sweating. Seriously the sweat yesterday was bad. I mean I know I'm a sweater, but stress sweat is awful. So she opens up my brace and cuts off my bandages. It's not as bad as I would have thought. The knee is understandably tender, and there wasn't much bruising. So she helps me put my brace back on, and its time to hobble down to x-ray. Laying on the x-ray table is the best thing so far about this whole thing. Being able to lay down on my side! It's wonderful! The tech tells me that most people don't like to lay on their side after surgery. So the x-rays get taken and we're back to the room. The doc comes in and reviews how the surgery went. He goes over the pictures from the procedure and answers my questions. I had no idea that 1) it was even possible that what remained of my ACL scarred itself to my PCL or that 2) it was quite common. We also rehashed that there is some arthritis in my knee cap, but not much. The outside meniscus is quite healthy, but he had to remove a largish chunk from the other. I will say that the meniscii (meniscuses?) look like white fish flesh. There was a surprising lack of blood in the pictures. We reviewed the x-rays and I got to see all the hardware that was installed. 2 screws and a clip. One of the screws will turn to bone in about 2 years, but the doc kept calling them wood screws and now I can't get that out of my head.

What's up evil face?

The doc then examined my leg. We debated whether or not my leg was stained or bruised. We talked about my aches and pains and whether I needed more Percocet (I did not get another scrip, went a step-down because I hate taking narcotics). Also talked about my PT visit the next day, and then onto checking the ligaments. That was not fun, but he said it all felt good. He also told me that I didn't need my crutches anymore. I got very excited about that until I realized what that actually meant. He said that at my PT visit they'd unlock my brace and that until I could raise my leg more easily I would continue to have to wear the stupid thing while sleeping. Oh! Yea, so trying to lift my leg without my brace was the most difficult thing. I was more focused and determined than I have been in a long time on that single exercise and I managed 4". I was proud of myself, but at the same time disappointed that it wasn't enough. That's the next goal. The nurse came back in and put on steri-strips and told me showering was allowed, but I couldn't scrub that leg until the strips came off. So then I was done with the visit and it was time to go home. I "walked" out, using two crutches and applying as much weight as I felt comfortable with on the leg. By the time I got home, I was down to one crutch. I was done with those damn crutches. I almost forgot I am not a crier. I don't cry, but when I got into that car after the doc's visit that was the first thing I did. I burst into tears and I couldn't tell you why, but I felt better after the fact. 

I didn't realize what a toll the day would take on me, but it came down to taking a shower or taking a nap. The nap won. I don't know if it should've because when I did take a shower after my nap those clothes were rank! Ugh. I'm so sorry if I actually stank that bad while out. On my way up the stairs, the hubs says he found my bruise and why the back of my knee has ached so much. 

Yep, that would do it.

 After the gloriousness of my nap, taking a shower was a very daunting thing to do, but it got done, and unfortunately, it was not as miraculous as I wanted it to be. I mean, it felt good being clean, but I was exhausted again. Mostly emotionally exhausted, but exhausted nonetheless. Cue more tears and my Big Guy is the one who held me and calmed me down. Thankfully the rest of the day was more lowkey.

Day 9 or PT Day 1 - I slept much better last night, but I'm still awake at 5am. It is not Christmas! Luckily, my PT appointment is much earlier in the day than my doc appointment so that was good. I got myself ready and actually ate breakfast downstairs. That was a nice change, and then it was time to dash after another short cryfest. We get to the office with plenty of time to spare. The hubs tells me that while he's waiting for me, he's going to meal plan. Is there any question as to why I love him? He's been amazing this whole week. So I hobble back to the PT area of the office, where I meet my therapist. She's a nice lady who is almost as tall as me, and we're wearing the same Brooks' sneaks. I instantly like her.

The visit was difficult but rewarding. She worked my knee and we got it bent to 70* which was not painful, but it was so tight and uncomfortable. I had to close my eyes during some of the exercises, because she told me I was fighting her, which I didn't know I was doing and didn't mean to do, but I figure if I can't see what she's doing and then work solely by feel then maybe it'd go better. The trick worked and I did loosen up while she continued to flex my knee and make it work. She had me go through a series of exercises and then we finished up with ice, compression, and these little electrode things. By the end of the session, I was in a bit of pain, but not to bad. She wasn't going to unlock my brace, but in the end, decided that 10* was enough flexion. She also taught me how to correctly hobble on my one brace. She told me that I wasn't walking great and maybe I should be on both crutches. Well that wasn't going to happen so I tried to "walk" better, and apparently changed my gait and she was quite happy with it. She also adjusted my crutch so that it was better suited to me. Then it was over. I get to go through this happy hell 3 times a week for 6 weeks. Once we get back in the car, cue more tears. These might've been triggered by a little bit of pain, a little bit of emotion, and a little bit over whatever is left.  I did end up taking another half a Percocet today. The pain from the work this morning was just too much. I'm not really happy about it but I also need to be realistic.

So there's my week and a day. I go back to PT on Friday, and on my off days, I have my exercises to work on. Thanks so much for stopping by today.

21 days. 504 hours. 30,240 minutes. All of them equal to the same thing - the day of my ACL reconstruction and meniscectomy surgery. Fun times, I tell ya.

So how did I get here? Well, it took a lot of hard work, some slightly stupid decisions, and then some not so good advice, finally I had to listen to my gut. People listen to your guts! There's a reason it's called a gut instinct.

If you follow me on Instagram or have been a follower of this blog, then you know that in mid-April I dislocated my kneecap. 10 days before I was supposed to run my 13th half marathon down in Nashville. I may have blogged about the annoyance of dealing with this injury a few some a lot.

A few days ago, I told everyone about the severity of my injury. It was a shock when I got the news. So here I am now, trying to get projects done and organize myself for some serious downtime, but first I'd like to share just what happened.

So it all started with cross-training and doing some rounds of jumping squats and high knees. These are not exercises I'm new to. I know better than to jump on the jumping squats. I usually modify. I go up onto my toes and then back down, because I know I have bad knees. Well, my enthusiasm at such a good workout was rewarded with the aforementioned kneecap dislocation. Not my first dislocation, so I knew the drill. Stay off of it. Take it easy. I talked to the orthopedist that the ER recommended and he agreed with my assessment of what I should do. He did say that the half was probably out of the question, but that the 5k was doable.

So I ran the 5k in Nashville with my sister and reinjured the knee, you can read about it {HERE}. I saw the doc the day after I got home from Nashville, and told him what had happened during the 5k. He didn't seem overly concerned, and I went back home and continued to baby, but not baby, the knee. I mention to my husband one day that the knee doesn't feel right, like the muscles aren't in the right spot or something, but figured it was probably just swelling and inflammation.

Then May 12 struck. I was 2 miles into a 3-mile easy run, coming down a hill and turning onto the road that leads back to my neighborhood, and I had to stop running. My leg came down and it felt like I had no kneecap. It felt like my thigh bone had just smacked off the top of my shin bone, and it hurt like the freaking devil. I stopped running immediately, and caught my breath and fought off tears. There may have been some yelling/grunting/snorting there too. I gingerly try to put weight on the leg, and the knee was not having any of that. I do some light stretching and test the knee a few minutes later, and still no dice. The knee was hurting a lot, and I was pissed. I was angry at myself, I was angry at my knee, and I was mostly angry that I was still dealing with this damn forsaken injury. Not to mention I was still a mile from my house. I call my friend and she comes and rescues me. So she stopped getting ready for her planned thing at her house to come rescue me. She's the best type of friend.

I call my doc and he's able to see me that Monday, and I tell him what happened this time. He says this time that no running, and to rest it. He'll see me back in a month. I tried asking him for specific exercises I should be doing, but again I get the generic answer of you should just do quad exercises, and focus on the medial quad a bit. While that is slightly more helpful than your other answer, I'm still not happy. My follow-up would be June 11. The next day after almost falling down my stairs again, I call the orthopedist office that helped my mom when she broke and dislocated her elbow. They're able to see me on May 30.

Between May 12 and May 30, my knee continues to act up. Always when moving in a downward motion, usually on the stairs or stepping down out of our house. It happened so often that Baby Girl became a pro at running and getting my brace or ice and bringing it to me. She also got really good at barking orders to her brothers, because while their shouts of, "Mom!" were cute, they're not helpful in the least. It's to the point that my knee is causing me stress and anxiety.

May 30 finally comes and I'm seen by the new doc. I'm nervous and anxious, but he's very nice and listens to my concerns. He says that he wouldn't have done anything differently than what my other doc did the first visit, but now that I'm continuing to have issues, and nothing showed up on the x-ray then he's going to write orders for an MRI. He also talks a bit about what's going to happen if what he thinks the MRI is going to show and how he'd like to move forward. So the MRI is scheduled for June 5, and my follow-up June 21. It was far out, but even my doc is allowed a vacay.

I walked away from this appointment much calmer and happy that I'd been listened to. The doc was nice, and a runner, but he also listened. Really listened to me. I was not a whiny patient who was complaining that her knee hurt. I was someone who's knee was starting to impede her life, and that was not something he wanted me to have to live with.

June 5th could not get here soon enough. I was excited. I've never had an MRI, but the opportunity to lay completely still uninterrupted seemed like heaven. I know I'm weird. I have 3 kids, even with the noise of the MRI machine, it was still more peaceful and calm than on a typical day at my house. I fully enjoyed the 30 minutes the machine took. So the tech at the MRI place told me that the report would take about 3 days and that they'd send it over to my doc. I had also requested a copy of my MRI images. I wanted to see what was going on in there, even if I didn't know what the heck I was looking at.

I got a phone call at 11:30 the same day, and its the new doc's office. The doctor would like me to come into the office tomorrow even though I have an appointment already scheduled. You know this has to be good news. The nurse tells me I have a torn ACL and meniscus. I have a what now? So we set the appointment for the next day, and I hop onto my computer to actually look at those MRI images. I managed to find my femur, tibia, and patella!

At the new doc's office the next morning, I get the fun news that my ACL is ruptured and the meniscus won't heal on its own. He opens up the MRI images and starts explaining the parts of my knee. The good parts, and the slightly deformed parts (the patella), and the not so good bits. The tibia has a good size bruise on it, there's swelling (duh), and the medial meniscus looks like its shredded on the one end. Then he gets to the PCL and he says that it looks good, and then he moves the cursor to an area kind of in the middle of the knee and moving diagonally and says this is where my ACL should be. Should be? Excuse me? Where is it? Well, that would be the rupture. You can see a little bit of the ACL at the tibia and then there's nothing. The doc needs to do a meniscectomy, and I have 3 choices for the ACL. He does tell me that PT is an option, but it really boils down to whether I want one surgery or two. I will take one surgery, thank you very much. Like any good person in this day and age, after they'd given me the news yesterday, I hopped on old Dr. Google to see what I could be dealing with, so the options the doc gave me for my options were not surprising. I ended up deciding that a hamstring allograft would be my best option for reconstructing my ACL.

Now the surgery is 3 weeks away, I got fitted for my brace today and got to bring home my ice therapy machine. I'm excited and scared. I'm excited for finally being able to move forward. I'm also worried about the giant step backward this is sending me, but I will come back, and I will resume running. My goals are just going to be different. I might never hit a 2:30 half marathon, but at this point, I'll be happy to be running a half again or even at all.

That's not to say that I don't love all the biking I've been doing, but it's just not the same. Coasting down the hills, while so much fun, just isn't the same as running down them. Not to mention, that I think getting up those hills might be worse on the bike than it is running.

I also don't want to diminish what I've still be able to do while dealing with this. I should have probably been doing some seated exercises, but hey, I've got 3 weeks, and some time to spare. Those seated exercises are going to get some run-throughs.

I'm also trying not to panic about all the rest of the projects I want to get done before surgery. I'm trying to keep the list manageable, but its been really, REALLY, REALLY, difficult. Just ask my poor husband. He's been trying to gently remind me to keep it in the pragmatic area.

So there it is. My journey is about to take a big detour and I'm going to really find out what I'm made of.  Thanks for stopping by today.