From Fall to 50k

I broke down at physical therapy this morning. Literal actual tears and even probably snot running down my face. The tears started with the dreaded knee hang.  All I have to do is lie on my back with my ankle propped on a foam roller and let my knee relax down.  It's literally the hardest thing I do in PT.  I've made it through the full five minutes ONCE without crying. Usually, once the exercise is over, I can move on to the next one and know that I don't have to do that again until next time. But today? Today it was like that was the exercise that opened the floodgates to all of the frustration and defeat that I've been feeling since January.   The frustration with needing help for what feels like absolutely everything.  For not being able to sleep in my own bed.  For the fact that this stupid knee brace will not stay in position for more than ten minutes at a time.  For the hours of work I put in every single day to show back up at PT and know ...

I'm officially two weeks post op.  And the last week had some of the wildest swings between high and low that I've had since my injury occurred back in January. Physical therapy has been both hard and rewarding.  From the first assessment appointment last Friday morning through two appointments this week, I haven't made it through a session yet without tears.  And mostly the tears are from frustration.  I've lost SO much of what I gained in my first round of PT.  But, Todd and Karen have been amazing - reminding me of where I started and helping me see how far I came in a short time.  I'll have so much to look back on when I finish my 50k next June!!! I also had my first post op appointment this week with the PA.   And she was amazing.  Alleviating so many of my fears, working with me to relax my leg, and being real about what's coming.  I was officially cleared to go weight bearing as tolerated on my repaired leg as long as my brace is ...

 It’s been a WEEK!! I knew rationally that recovery and healing would be a series of ups and downs - with no two days looking the same.  And that linear progress would be a ridiculous dream.  Rationally, I was totally correct. I tried my best to prepare for the irrationality and uncertainty of what was to come.  I set up a recovery area in our reading room - full on with comfy couch, medical table, and wire shelving to hold everything I thought I might want or need.  A whiteboard set up with all of my prescriptions, CPM goals, and ice times.  A wheelchair at the ready.  Way too big pants purchased to go over my newly repaired leg.  Oils to keep my mood elevated. An app to help me sleep .   When it comes to over preparing, I’m an expert. The first few days are mostly a blur of pain, pain meds, and sleep.  I know I watched a lot of TV - finishing out the last season of House and blazing through a new favorite show - Derry Girls.  Bu...

 Friday morning dawned bright and early.  My nerves had me up and in the shower even before the alarm sounded.   Everything I had worked so hard to visualize came to fruition.  Mike and I arrived at the hospital and were immediately sent upstairs for surgery check-in.  As expected, we waited a bit and then I was called back.  I was feeling much more calm than I had expected. I had a bevy of visitors while in preop - nurses for the IV, for the nerve block, and the anesthesiologist.  I’m sure there were more but I started to lose track quickly.  The IV was an incredibly easy process and once the “feel good” meds were pumping, I have little recollection of names, faces, or events.  I’m grateful for Mike’s calm demeanor at every single step of the journey. Eventually, my ortho came back to discuss the surgery and see if I had any last minute questions. Oddly enough for me, I didn’t have a single one. My bed was wheeled down to the O.R. and the an...

 All the things are READY. The machines - ice and CPM - are plugged in and ready to go. The ipad is plugged in with lots of shows and games ready to play. The meds are ready to be taken. The couch is ready to be slept on. The only thing not ready is me. Because I'm anxious.  Not for the surgery itself, but for the IV (because needles are scary) and for the recovery (because pain is scary). I'm working through my imagery, through my positive self talk, and through my massive amount of lists.  And it's helping. So is talking to friends, focusing on the fun, and finding so many things that I enjoy. And keeping all the things I want to be fully present for at the forefront of my mind: the eclipse on Monday, visits to Kent State with my daughter in April and June, and my daughter's high school graduation in May. Above it all, my mantra: I can do hard things.

Most people have nightmares about being chased... about falling... about public humiliation. Three days pre-op and I'm having nightmares about surgery.  To be expected, I'm sure. But I sort of assumed that my nightmares would be of the normal variety - waking up during surgery, a missing limb, operating on the wrong leg.. or even a doctor wielding a saw. The smiles are the scariest. That said, I have never been one for normal.  And my nightmare last night definitely showed the depth of my anxiety.   I dreamed that I was in the waiting room.  By myself.  Just... waiting.  Watching each person go ahead of me and not knowing what was going to happen next.  I just kept asking for Mike - and no one would help.  The anxiety in the dream was palpable - and all because I didn't know what was happening. I woke up just as my name was called. Our dreams help our subconscious to work through fears and anxieties that we don't work through during the day. ...