Hey friends,
Last we spoke I was on the "final countdown" to my 15th and last-ish knee surgery for ever-ish. I was dreaming about a life with two solid knees - booking an Easter vacation in Europe, looking to adopt a dog in the spring, and considering an online University course in February. For the first time in a long time, I began making plans.
Aside: When my Grandma used to tell stories that began jubilantly, we anticipated that the story would often end in tragedy: "They were such a nice little family in a nice little house and they had just a beautiful new baby...and then Bob was suddenly run over and killed by his combine."
(Can you sense the foreshadowing?)
Well...
Things didn't quite go the way that I had hoped. AT ALL.
Despite having Covid in early November, the Anesthesiologist cleared me for surgery a week prior, and I was healthy, and ready to go. Unfortunately my pre-op Covid PCR came back positive the day before my surgery and the new knee was canceled...about 12 hours before my surgery.
Our PCR tests on island provide us with specific numbers - cycle thresholds that indicate how much virus is actually in your system. The higher the number, the less "sick" you are. You need a number of 35 to be considered Covid-free. My number was 32.5. I was not contagious; however, the virus was still detectable in my body - nearly 3 weeks after I had been sick.
I pleaded with the Unit Clerk over the phone, "Please! I'm not even contagious. My mom flew in from Canada to look after me, I have no symptoms and anesthesiology cleared me! I just really Kneed this knee!"
No dice.
Oh my God, to say I was disappointed is an understatement.
I can't express just how upsetting it is to be completely and totally mentally, physically, and emotionally prepared for something only for it to dissipate with 2.5 Fu#$ing Covid threshold units. I had been "training" for this surgery for months. I was so ready to move on. I was so excited to start my new life.
There were tears - the kind of tears that make you choke because you can't really inhale anymore without sucking up your snot. You know those ones? Ugh. It was ugly.
Thank God my mom was here. She just held me while I cried and poor Ev looked on in disbelief (trying to figure out how to "fix" the problem, I'm sure).
Two days later I camped myself outside of my surgeon's office and waited patiently to plead my case.
My Ortho was also disappointed that my surgery was canceled, and explained that it was simply a checkbox item - I had failed to meet the pre-op requirements. No exceptions made. He offered to place me on cancelation list for a week, but warned that the OR schedule was very busy, and that after a week he was heading on holidays over the Christmas break.
I held out a tiny bit of hope that perhaps I could still get in for surgery prior to Christmas, which would only delay all my hopes and dreams by a week.
Like 16 year old Kirstie waiting for Jason Issel to call her back (he did.. eventually, and broke up with me), I waited on pins and needles, glued to my phone. Finally 5 days later, I received a call from a hospital number.
My hands shook with excitement as I frantically answered the phone (imagine being excited to get your knee chopped off?)
"Hello. This is the Cayman Islands Hospital calling with a short survey about your surgery experience last week."
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUU## right off.
Like salt in my massive gaping wound.
Spoiler alert...I did not get my Christmas miracle, I am obviously on the naughty list because Courtknee now has to wait until MARCH to get a new friend. That's THREE months away.
UGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH. It's all just so unbelievably disappointing.
In a fit of defiance, Courtknee blew up with this news (I had promised her a friend that she was no longer getting), and for the first time since my knee replacement, I began struggling with swelling, and stay puft marshmallow Courtknee could barely bend (she's a bit of a drama queen).
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So I was sad, swollen, and defeated.
My wonderful Mom let me be miserable for a few days, encouraging me to help her decorate the Christmas tree, bake some cookies, and watch Christmas movies. It was so comforting to have her here.
Once I processed the news and "accepted" my new reality, I tried to focus on just enjoying the time with mom during a really nice time of year on island. The Christmas breeze is blowing strong, the roundabouts are all decked out in blinking lights, and tropical holiday music plays in every store. Cayman is a beautiful place during the holidays, and it was really nice experiencing this with my mom (We also snuck in a decadent night at the Kimpton).
But...I find myself back in a place where I had hoped to never be in again.
I will be returning to work after the holidays with one good-ish knee and one knee that randomly locks and gives out on me. I will need to begin everyday with a strategy. How do I limit my number of steps? When can I take a pain-killer to ensure that I'm alert to see my students? How will I carry all my supplies to four different schools? What will I do if my knee locks up and I am unable to unlock it? In addition, I'm navigating physiotherapy challenges as progress with Courtknee is now limited by my broken knee. The right knee was ready and poised for retirement, so it's really not fair to her either. This was not the plan, dammit!
My dreams of touring Europe at Easter are over. The dog will have to wait. I will not be well enough to take write a university final exam in March. Everything has been pushed back and placed on hold - like the last 10 years of my life. I am well aware that this is really minor compared to what so many are going through right now. I will be fine. I know this. But I'm just so tired of being resilient. I feel so tired, and I think I'm going to feel sorry for myself for just a bit longer while I sit here wallowing in knee purgatory (currently with a pulled hamstring to add insult to injury...or injury to injury or whatever).
Mom left this week and I miss her already. She and Lenny put their plans to travel down to California on hold so that she could help with the surgery that never happened. She will do the same for me in March. She is such a good mom. I am very grateful.
Evan has wisely decided that a change of scenery will do me good, so he's booked us a flight to Miami on the 25th. Typically I plan all of our travels, but I just didn't have it in me, so he's in charge this time. I know that we are visiting his new Florida gym, I know that there is an RV involved (yes..an RV!), an NHL hockey game, and a stop in Savannah (Georgia, not Cayman). I'm not exactly sure what's happening, but I'm looking forward to getting a break from the island. I think it's really thoughtful of him to recognize that I need this right now. It's pretty great that people still love me even when I'm miserable and difficult to love these days.
Cheers, friends. Wishing you all a Merry Christmas!
