Two weeks update

"The only way out is through" Robert Frost 

I have screws in my bones. That was a revelation on day 10. I mean, I read the description of a procedure prior surgery, I knew what it meant "drill a tunnel in your tibia, and your femur and pull a new graft tendon through, then secure with screws". Still, my mind shut down that information. All that time, as my lower leg was bruised and achy, especially at night, and the pain localized somewhere deep within the bones, I kept wondering "WHY". Until it hit. They drilled my bones. Like, you know, woodwork. Took a drill to my poor leg and made a tunnel inside. I felt so sorry for myself that evening.

But, the works continues. I was progressing rather well. I did my little things. Lots and lots of PT, with days moving more into Pilates territory. So many leg lifts (without a knee lag pretty quick!) and little circles, for 30 min at a time, left leg with and without a brace (the brace is like an extra weight of 3 lbs), and right leg with 10 lbs ankle weights. Band work with adduction and extension and all the movements. Figured might as well get strong in all small supporting muscles, was never much into Pilates, but man, those exercises actually make you feel it! I "ride" my stationary bike at home with one leg for 40 min (I started with 15, so that's progress). The basement set up for a home gym is a total life and sanity saver, as I've been doing upper body, core workouts since day 3 (the problem at first was to actually get myself to the basements on the steep narrow steps of a 100 year olde house, but I learned). 

I went to the gym on day 9 for the first time, adjusting all my crutch hobbling around all kinds of machines, on the first time just trying different things. I can do some things on the right leg, I can do dead lifts, I can do upper body. Made me feel normal. I walk outside on crutches, pushing off the handles, what makes my hands go numb, and that's my limiting factor of this one-leg hopping, but I make it regularly for 2 miles around the streets (and one went even full 3 miles, though the armpits definitely developed callus, and the hands were tingling after for quite some time). On day 10 I drove myself for the first time, and that was exciting, even if weird. I have to keep my left leg fully locked in extension, and the seat pushed all the way back. Yet I am short, and my right leg is barely reaching the pedals (and my hands have a hard time towards the wheel). I slide my right butt forward, put a yoga block under my left foot to elevate the leg slightly, and in this crooked position can drive, but only on our sleepy local streets. No way I am getting on any highways, and luckily, I never have to. Independence! I drove myself to work to say hi, and to PT appointment, and to the supermarket...

I walked to visit my yoga studio, and they extended my class package - people are so nice. The Winter Series local races transferred my 4-race registration to the next year, thank you very much, something to look forward to. I decided to not do February 18 "walk a race in Moab", but sticking with St George in March, and hoping to get to Moab on the last weekend of March instead of that February (which originally was January - thank you Mad Moose for working with me on all my dates changes).

Larry caught a few nice days here, and played a few rounds of 9-hole games, finishing up with shooting 36. All his hard work is paying off, and by summer we're both hoping that he can join the Amateur league. That's where the local gurus on the course push him towards. I walked once to see him practicing on the driving range as part of my 2 mile "adventures". :)

On the second full weekend, which was day 9 (after the gym) Larry drove me on a backcountry roads of Colorado, and we stopped to have lunch in a tiny dot on a map Guffey - just a few houses and a bakery. My braced up leg and crutches always start conversations, and just like that, from an extreme introvert who never talks to anyone, I am a chatty superstar, answering questions, smiling, and accepting well wishes. I can't say I hate it. Life is that boring:)

I finished my first full knitting project since getting a surgery - I knit a skirt. As my sister says, every woman has to have a skirt on her closet. I have a knit dress (two - a winter and a summer one), but no skirts at all. Maybe with this new development in my life and less mountain exploring, I'll get to go to a nice place from time to time, like a museum or theater. I used to love this, but I no longer live in Moscow - or NYC for that matter. I read 4 books - 3 from the library, and one of the gifts mailed (not the mother-in-law's yet, my co-worker sent me 3 other). I also received a wonderful gift of more yarn from a friend back in Austin (who now lives in Massachusetts). Thank you.

I do want to highlight one person though. As I said, I am not naïve, and acuteness of my injury and subsequent surgery had worn out on friends and family. Life moved on, as it should. I get occasional "how are you". Kristin Jossi is a friend who goes way back to Oregon, yet not one who pops to mind to call "best buddy". Her humanity and heart shined through many times for me though. She was the one who took me to the trailhead of CT in 2018. Miraculously, by chance, she was the one who picked me up in Durango when I finished, and helped me realize the magnitude of my hike. She doesn't reach out, yet if I do, she responds without hesitation and fully in. She's a PT, but more importantly, she's a friend who stepped in. Many times a day she was/is the one I reach to, for questions, comfort, confirmation. I can't even begin to explain how much her involvement meant to me, not as a professional, not only as one, but as a human. All the while she, as all of us, has her own shit to deal with. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

Larry and I have been discussing making a go at a little garden in the backyard, on a couple of raised beds. Larry is the Green Thumb in the family, and wanted it for a long time, but it was actually my sudden push, even prior the accident, that had it going. Now that I am not through-hiking CT for 2 weeks in July, nor frolic in the mountains in general, to train and have fun, for long stretches of hours and days, it opens up more time for me to truly care for this project. With that, and for a number of other reasons, the old apple tree in our yard got cut. In fact, this apple tree is much older than the house itself, as there was an orchard here, before the neighborhood began to be built. It was a part of the history, ours one of the very few still left. Yet, it was really unmaintained, produced very small and not many apples, the damn squirrels and worms ate it before apples fell, and on top of it the tree got some kind of a disease last summer. Now, the absence of it provides space and sunshine for the raised beds - and for our new Maple tree planted last Fall right across.

We keep getting snow and snappy cold weather, what makes it difficult to "crutch around" on icy sidewalks, but it's winter. And, we always need snow. I love my quiet mornings at 4 am.

 2 weeks post-op I had my appointment with the ortho doc. He was impressed, but absolutely not surprised, at my progress. While there was one evening when I Googled way too many negative results as a surgery outcome in terms of full return to various sports, he encouraged and said that he never had any doubt that I will make a full comeback. That was so nice to hear. In fact (after he took stitches off), he released me to start trying to put 20% weight on my left leg while on crutches. Small steps, progressing over the next 4 weeks before the next check-in to full weight bearing. 

Technically speaking, that'd be 6 weeks post-op, yet I am pleased that I can at least begin the process at 2 weeks.

As I mentioned in a previous post full of medical hoopla, the ACL reconstruction has a patient use crutches 2 weeks and full-on weight at 4 weeks. The meniscus part is the tricky delay when one is supposed to be non-weight bearing for 6 weeks. Doc said my meniscus was straight-forward fix, and my muscle tone surrounding the knee is incredibly strong, so I can slowly get on a weaning progression. Little victories. And I can shower without a garbage bag around my leg 😂

“You are what you do repeatedly every day. If excellence is something you’re striving for, then it’s not an accident. It’s a habit.”

— Greg Plitt

So I keep doing my things. Lots and lots of them. Hoping it'll accumulate and lead to that excellence. I had a new PT appointment, and this guy was absolutely great, with manual work on all the right points, great suggestions, and taught me how to walk using one crutch only. Not for outside yet, but I'm allowed to practice at home. Wow, that felt scry in the first steps, but liberating after 5 minutes!

Tomorrow will be our first outing to the ski resort. I might post more pictures and description on Sunday evening. Of course, my season pass is a bust (I never buy insurance on that), so Larry will just have to ski up his pass to make me feel slightly better about the "wasted" money. Plus, I actually love sitting next to the mountain. It'd be good. I am not an envious person, and I hope he can enjoy skiing, even if by himself, while I read and knit in the building.

P.s. This has been a wonderful weekend. Truly an opportunity to look deeper into my soul. Maybe be this whole thing is really God's telling me to slow down, breathe, recharge for more beginnings. To stop churning the wheel. To be out of the comfort zone, for real - not push harder, but stop smack in my tracks, and then keep moving with greater appreciation of all that mattered before - and all the new things I can learn to appreciate as I meet them on my way. To recovery, yes, back to full health and participating in the mountain life, but as on a spiral, like a spring, compressed down, and released. On this morning's crutch walk, I felt blessed and grateful. Not a hint of sadness or being upset, or anxiety over the uncertainty and the length of the road ahead. Those will be, of course, a part of the journey, just as will tears, hard work, boredom of mundane daily tasks, both in real life and in returning to function. For right now, I can't not to share these overwhelming thoughts. 🙏

"Real toughness is experiencing discomfort or distress, leaning in, paying attention, and creating space to take thoughtful actions. It's navigating discomfort to make the best decisions you can." Steve Magness, "Do hard things"