I've got to keep on moving

 Hey Friends!

Have you watched the documentary about the olympic ski racer, Lindsey Vonn, called "The Climb"? It documents Lindsey's recovery and rehabilitation after 2 major knee injuries and her return to sport. It's really inspirational and provides a lot of insight about the physical, mental, and emotional challenges of rehabilitation after injury. 

Now I'm by no means an Olympic athlete - although I was Miss PA Highland Dancer in1985 and a silver medalist at the YBC National Bowling Championship in 1991 😜- but when I watched this documentary a few years ago, I was absolutely glued to the TV, captivated by Lindsey's experience.   Lindsey's rehab was so intense and grueling, and I could relate to how defeating and mentally exhausting recovery can be. 

I'm now 4 weeks post surgery #13 and doing pretty okay-ish. Every week since my surgery I've been able to step up my physiotherapy and can feel myself slowly gaining strength and confidence. I've managed to wean off of Gabapentin (the brain fogger med), so that's one huge goal accomplished! It occurred to me the other day during my pool water walking that my rehabilitation and the state of my mind during recovery has significantly shifted since my first few surgeries. 

The very first knee surgery (about 10 years ago) was meant to be a simple meniscus repair. Once my Ortho got a look inside my knee and realized that I had this disease, Osteochondritis Dissecans, he had to completely change gears mid-surgery and perform micro fracture surgery on my knee. The surgeons drilled holes into my bone to stimulate cartilage growth (I was wide awake for that one, by the way, but was drugged to the point of oblivion), and I was told post surgery that my 3 week recovery was now a 4-6 month recovery. 

I listened to my surgeon explain the severity of the situation. I had a rare cartilage disease. I would never be the same. I heard the words but didn't fully process them and I absolutely refused to accept them. I was provided with a physio protocol for recovery and vowed to "beat" every single goal in that booklet. 

I was insufferable. I cringe now when I think about how I threw myself head-first into that recovery. Although I followed all the rules (no weight bearing for 6 weeks), as soon as I was given the go ahead to begin therapy, I made it my mission to surpass every benchmark. I attempted to convince my surgeon that the recovery bar needed to be raised because I was a superior patient who overachieved in all areas. If anyone asked how recovery was going, I would boast about how awesome I was doing, and demonstrate party tricks on my crutches (no lie). When my surgeon suggested that I might not be strong enough to wakesurf, I sent him video of myself wakesurfing with my crutch, eventually tossing the crutch away. That video was a giant "eff you and eff this disease." (I'm still sorry about that).  Like I said...insufferable. In my mind I was an ideal patient - motivated and determined. But in reality, I was trying to win a game that was impossible to win. 

Haha! Remember that time I covered my knee brace in "motivational" sayings? No? Me neither. 🙈

In retrospect, I was completely in denial about my diagnosis. I was going to be normal, despite this stupid disease that I apparently had. That first surgery, by the way, failed. I'm not saying it was a "me" problem, but my stubborn, "I will be victorious" attitude did not promote success. 

Well...thank the Lord things have changed. The biggest thing that I have learned to accept over the years is that my body and I are on the same team. When I said things like, "I'm going to beat this!" I was implying that I was in a fight or a competition against my body. This was a terrible mindset and I spent so much of my time angry and resentful that my body dared to defy me in this manner. Like it or not, this body belongs to me and I've learned to be kinder and more patient with it. After all, we are literally in this together.

Secondly, I've learned that these physio benchmarks are simply guidelines. I don't focus so much on imposed timelines. If I'm not off the crutches in 3 weeks, I no longer lay in the dark listening to Linkin Park, sobbing, "In the end, it doesn't even matter." (True story 😞). Although I still require reminders, I do realize that the guidelines don't take into consideration the fact that my knees have endured 13 surgeries. They have been through a lot! So my squat might be more of a "dip" at the moment, but that's just where my knees are at this point in time. And I am perfectly okay-ish with that! 

Finally, my mindset about recovery has flipped a complete 180. Rehabilitation used to be a roller coaster of high highs and super low lows. I would play "Rage Against the Machine" and lunge until my knees would shake and then fall into a heap on the floor and cry for hours when I was still 10 degrees off my target. The pressures that I placed on myself were insane - and I'm not an Olympic athlete - it's not like I had a major competition looming! Yikes.  Today I ride the bike while listening to "Break my Stride" by Matthew Wilder, and focus on moving forward slowly and purposefully. I quietly celebrate my accomplishments and try...yes try...to not get frustrated when recovery is not a neat linear path. 

I'm not going to pretend like it's all roses and butterflies. I'm relieved that I'm not that super intense, angry rehabilitation patient any more; however, I still feel frustrated and anxious with my recovery. 

I worry that I will require a walking aide for the rest of my life. Prior to this surgery, I was using a crutch or both crutches for about 2 months. I'm still using 1 crutch for longer distances, but I have anxiety about walking independently again. Many years ago I used a cane for a few months. There was something about that cane that signaled "permanent handicap" to me, and although I would never judge anyone else for using a cane, that cane really messed with my mental and emotional state. I try not to contemplate the what ifs, but in all honesty, I worry that I might eventually enter "cane territory" again. 

I know that I'm not training for an Olympic event, but I now see the purpose of my rehabilitation as training for life. I want to work a full day of school without pain meds. I want to sit down with my students and not worry about standing back up. I want to take short walks on the beach. I want to go to a friend's house and not fret about climbing stairs. I want to feel confident that I can walk to a table in a restaurant and not fall down. This is why I faithfully participate in my physiotherapy every single day. 

Evan described something called "Game Theory" that he often discusses with his business clients. There are two types of games: a finite game and an infinite game. A finite game has a distinct beginning and end. Someone wins and someone loses. In an infinite game the purpose is to keep the game going. You only drop out of the game due to lack of will or resources. No one wins and no one loses. Your goal is to simply stay in the game - to keep the game going. After almost 10 years since my diagnosis, I have (thankfully) learned that I cannot "win" this game. My goal is to play the infinite game. And I'm doing a pretty okay-ish job at it right now ;) In the words of Matthew Wilder, "I've got to keep on moving." 

Cheers Friends!