Happy Birthday, Dear Fake ACL! Happy Birthday to You!

Today is a banner day. It marks one year since my ACL reconstruction surgery! That’s right – a portion of my patellar tendon, accompanied by two screws, has been serving as the new ACL in my left knee for an entire 365 days now.

Wow – can you believe the passage of time?

As I look back, I want to focus on The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, because there has been plenty of all that over this past year. But don’t worry; these won’t be comprehensive lists – just some major themes! Let’s start with…

THE GOOD:

1. My attitude. Referring to my overall attitude, of course, because there have been quite a few times it would NOT fall under the “GOOD” category (keep reading and you’ll see). But overall, my attitude has reflected the gratitude I’ve felt for the progress I’ve made, the abilities I’ve regained, the people I’ve met, and the ways God has worked in me.

A good attitude always helps!

2. The people. I have met SO MANY incredible people and made SO MANY great connections. My (now-former) PT crew has been and still is so special to me. I very likely would not have crossed paths with them had it not been for my injury.

I’m not sure if I’m allowed to post pics of my former PT crew, but I can post this meme I made that expresses how much I miss the Game Ready ice/compression therapy machine.

3. The support. Man, I have an army! Countless people have supported me in innumerable ways, from visiting me and praying for me to bringing me food and driving me places to good-naturedly teasing me about my abilities (or lack thereof) to just checking in every now and then. I could not have done this without my friends and family – and even random strangers! (Shout-out to the random lady at the Koser Jewelers^TM Tennis Challenge last August who was going to get herself food from the concession stand, saw me lounging in the bleachers with my crutches and knee brace, and asked me unprompted if I wanted her to get me anything for dinner so I didn’t have to navigate the bleachers more often than necessary!)

My dad is a very important member of my support crew…

…and so is my mom!

4. The progress. I went from being able to do so many athletic things (pre-injury) to being limited to walking/stationary bike/weightlifting (post-injury, pre-op) to being able to do NOTHING (immediately post-op) to slowly regaining all sorts of abilities. It was exciting when I regained the ability to do something small, like tie my shoe or put my sock on, and it was beyond thrilling when I remastered a bigger skill, like walking unassisted, fully pedaling a stationary bike, running, and jumping. Seeing myself get faster and faster as I got cleared to run was mind-blowing, too! I went from walking a 35-minute mile last fall to running a 7:11 mile this spring – so cool.

Celebrating what was at the time a post-op mile PR in May

OK, now to take a dive. Over the course of my recovery, I’ve tried to focus on and showcase the positive, but the frustrations are very real and very plentiful. So buckle up for The Bad and The Ugly.

THE BAD:

1. Progress feels so slow. Fully pedaling a stationary bike? Yeah, that was the result of WEEKS of partial pedal rotations because my range of motion initially wouldn’t allow a full rotation. That’s just one example, of course. But overall, the recovery process has been a lot of hard work, often with minimal results to show for it. (Yes, occasionally there are BIG results, but you really have to work for them.) Of course, ACL recovery is 9-12 months on average, and studies show that healing continues even up to 2 years. So slow progress is expected – but that doesn’t mean it’s fun.

Putting in some quad work at sports PT – my face, although blurry, says it all

2. Not knowing what’s normal. Over the course of my recovery, there have been multiple instances where I’ve thought something – an odd sensation, pain, stiffness, etc. – was just par for the course, only to realize after weeks of silently dealing with it that it’s not normal and I should have mentioned it sooner.

Cool pic (after some cupping a few months ago) showing the difference in blood flow on both sides of the scar. The pain in the front of my knee is something that I wish I’d recognized earlier as being potentially abnormal.

3. The pain. My knee hurts a good portion of the time. This is apparently not as it should be; I’m told it’s due to tendinosis at the donor site (patellar tendon area, front of the knee), which has been flaring up since last September/October, when I started being more mobile. Going up and down stairs hurts. Running hurts. Jumping/landing hurts. And it’s not getting better. Nothing has been helping it. Not even a cortisone shot provided any relief. That is, quite honestly, depressing, especially because I’ve been going above and beyond to do what’s been assigned to me in terms of my at-home PT programs.

The Game Ready! Part of the reason I loved this so much when I was at NovaCare was that my knee was pretty sore most of the time due to the tendinosis. The Game Ready made it feel so much better at the end of my sessions!

4. Regression. I had been running, shooting jumpshots, working on layups, etc., albeit with pain (read #3 above) – and my sports PT recently placed me on a hiatus from all those things in an attempt to get the tendinosis to calm down while we focused on beefing up my quad in order to take some of the strain off the patellar tendon region. This hiatus is probably not actual regression, but more of a “two steps forward, one step back” kind of thing – or like how soccer players sometimes have to kick the ball backward in order to advance it in another area. (Did I just use a soccer analogy? Ugh…) However, I’m wrapping up my fourth week of the hiatus, and although my quad is getting stronger, the pain in my patellar region is still the same. I don’t mind the hiatus from these activities – as long as I see improvement. But since I’m not seeing any advancement, figuratively kicking the ball backward seems absolutely pointless and fruitless thus far. Regardless, whenever I am cleared to resume these activities, I’ll be starting from scratch – which means that all the months of work I had put into these activities before the hiatus (especially when it comes to running) will have been for nothing.

Doing one of the every-other-day walks I’m allowed to do during my running hiatus

Doing a return-to-running exercise at sports PT while on my hiatus. It’s frustrating to think of starting from scratch, but you have to do what you have to do…

THE UGLY:

1. Regret. Not about the injury itself; I’ve come to terms with that. It may seem strange, but I honestly don’t – and haven’t really – felt any sort of longing to go back and prevent it. However, since last fall, I’ve been feeling here and there like getting the surgery was a mistake. Or like maybe I should have gone with the quad tendon graft instead of the patellar tendon. But when I had these thoughts last fall, I was able to overcome them by saying to myself, “Self, you’re still so early in this process. Just wait until next spring/summer (2026), and you’ll see how far you’ve come and you’ll be glad you did this! You’ll be back to normal and without pain. It’ll be worth it – just wait and see!” HAHAHAHA, WELL. It is now next summer, and I am not back to normal, and I am still in pain a lot of the time. So those thoughts that the surgery was a mistake have been flaring up BIG TIME the last couple months, almost incessantly. The majority of the time (including the moment I initially drafted this sentence), I regret having this surgery, and I regret going with the patellar tendon graft. If I could go back and undo either of those things, I most likely would. There – I said it. It’s official.

I was too loopy here (freshly post-op) to have or not have feelings of regret. Those feelings developed what was probably a few weeks later.

I may regret the surgery most of the time, but I’d still say this pic almost makes the entire experience worth it. It’s one of my favorite pics of myself. So hilariously loopy!

2. Apathy. For the first portion of my recovery, I was really motivated to get back on the basketball court. But for the past few months, I haven’t had the desire to play. At all. Lately, I’ve realized that I don’t even care if I ever play again. It’s unthinkable that I would ever admit that, because basketball is my longest-lived athletic love. Maybe my apathy is rooted in fear that I’ll get injured again. Maybe it’s been so long since I’ve played that I forget the joy it can bring me. Maybe it’s something else. All I know is, if I’d been aware that this recovery process was going to suck the life out of me the way it has these past few months, I probably wouldn’t have bothered with the surgery. After all, the whole point of getting the surgery was to help me get back to doing all the athletic things – and if I don’t want to do them anymore, I shouldn’t have put my body through this trauma. I should have just strengthened my ACL-less knee through PT and focused on other physical activities, like walking and biking.

Still shot from a video from mid-May for a PT testimonial. In that testimonial, I shared that I couldn’t wait to get back on the court. I said it mostly because I felt like that was the obvious/expected thing to say; even as early as February, though, I was battling apathy about returning to playing basketball.

3. Wanting to give up. I’m really tired of being in pain when I do anything. (And yes, lately “anything” sometimes includes just sitting or trying to sleep.) I’m tired of doing like an hour of quad exercises every day and having them yield no positive results when it comes to pain relief. Every time I’m at sports PT, I fight the urge to quit. Since early June, every time I do my at-home exercises (which I do religiously – in my 16-ish months of PT, I have never skipped them, morning or evening), I battle with myself about quitting. I’ve had tough moments before, especially last fall, where I wanted to give up. But lately it’s been a ruthless and nonstop urge to just say, “Forget it. I’ll just live with the pain. Whatever.” And just be done – done driving 40 minutes to sports PT (and another 40 minutes back) twice a week, done losing sleep because I have to wake up early to do my at-home program, done trying to get my body to do exercises it’s bad at doing – just done. Maybe I will quit. Maybe I won’t. If I had to place a good-natured wager, my money would be on not quitting, because I hate giving up. But I really, really want to.

Practicing an exercise that kinda hurts my knee but is supposed to help it warm up

Does this look like the face of someone who wants to give up? No? Well, it is (sometimes)!

OK, enough of Debbie Downer; time for us to send her away. Let’s end by looking at some of the recent highlights of my progress. Because, even though I was in pain when most, if not all, of these took place, they’re still indicators that hope might be on the horizon somewhere and that I might have lots to look forward to.

THE HIGHLIGHTS:

1. Regaining my running legs. Before I was discharged from NovaCare, I told my (former) PTA that one part of recovery that I didn’t expect to love as much as I did was focusing on my mile time! The first time I ran a mile nonstop after my surgery was February 28, 2026; my time was 8:48 (faster than I’ve been in recent years). On May 5, I logged my first sub-8 mile with a 7:40. And on June 18, right before my running hiatus started, I notched a 7:11 – far from an Olympic-record time, of course, but I’m 95% sure it’s a PR for me, pre-op and post-op!
I’ve known for a while that my running form is, umm, not great and not efficient. Now that I’m working on a bit of return-to-running stuff at sports PT, I’m learning how to improve my running form, which will in theory help me get even faster. I’d love to get a sub-7. That had been my goal for the summer (before I knew the running hiatus was going to happen); now it’s just a goal for the near future, whenever I’m cleared to return to running.

On the homestretch of the Red Rose Run 5-miler in early June

Enjoying my time as a Girls on the Run running buddy in mid-May! (My awesome running buddy is on my left – not visible.)

2. First place in a race! No, not overall. But I did get first place in my age group in the first post-op 5K I ran, which was in early May! I logged a 25:52 – again, far from Olympic levels, but definitely my fastest time in years. And I got a cool prize, and I had a really fun (and partially unexpected) cheering section!

Heading toward the finish line

On the podium! (The second-place finisher was MIA.)

3. Constant PRs. It seemed like every week I ran, I was getting faster. And that was true for every distance! It didn’t matter if I had slept poorly the night before or if my legs felt like jelly from the previous day’s PT session; I kept finding ways to dig deep and improve on my previous running effort. One highlight was the 7:11 mile I ran in mid-June. Another was running a 40:51 on a 5-mile route I’ve been using for years; I don’t remember the last time I ran a sub-41 on a 5-mile route!

Celebrating my 40:51 finish of my 5-mile route in late May!

Shocked by my 7:11 mile time!

4. Layups. When I started working on layups a couple months ago, I was stiff and uncertain, and the layups looked clunky and disjointed. But after just a few times on the court, the layups were looking a lot smoother, a lot more fluid. I was jumping higher, landing with more confidence. So even though I’ll likely be starting somewhat from scratch with layups when I’m cleared to return to them (assuming I want to return to them when the time comes), I should be able to see progress pretty quickly.

Working on fluidity, catching air, and landing in mid-May

5. Random abilities. As I’ve gotten stronger and more fit, I’ve started finding that I can do things that previously were difficult or impossible. For example, I can do like 7 consecutive chin-ups now – maybe more (it’s been a while since I’ve tried my max). And at the end of May, I went to a local fitness trail, which has a pole that I have never been able to climb (I had tried for years, but not recently). I decided to film my end-of-May attempt to see how high I could get in order to gauge my progress for future attempts. Well, I scaled that thing on the first try with NO difficulty! I was shocked!

Scaling a pole? No problem, apparently!

6. Rediscovering a childhood pastime. From about ages 8 to 15, I spent the vast majority of each summer riding my bike around my neighborhood. As an adult, I haven’t biked very much, although I have enjoyed renting bikes on vacation. Now that I’m physically capable of riding a bike, some new-ish friends (both of whom are into biking) encouraged me to get back in the game. I bought a used bike recently, and I have been having so much fun taking it out for some spins, both solo and with friends. Thankfully, my current running/jumping hiatus does not extend to biking!

7. Mud run! OK, so it was actually more like a mud walk because I was on a running hiatus at the time. But I got the medical OK to do a Mudgirl obstacle/mud event with my sister in the middle of July, which was awesome! I was able to complete all the obstacles that my sports PT had given me the OK to do – and as it turned out, I was even able to safely do small portions of the two obstacles I’d been advised to skip! My sis was great – always looking out for me and making sure I was doing OK as we took on each obstacle. It was so fun to experiment with the obstacles and find that I could navigate them, even with a knee that’s still in the middle of the healing process.

If this post has seemed like a roller coaster, then great! That means I have done my job in clearly communicating the wild ride that can be ACL recovery! There are regular ups, there are regular downs, there are the highest of the highs and the lowest of the lows. There are encouraging times; there are frustrating times; there are blah times. There are moments you think you’ve got this, there are moments you think you can’t do this anymore – and there are moments you grit your teeth and say that even if you can’t do this anymore, YOU WILL.

And I guess I WILL. Even on days I don’t want to. Even on days this hurts (ahem, every day so far). Even on days I wish I hadn’t had this surgery. I’ll keep on keeping on. And maybe *next* spring or *next* summer, I’ll be able to look back, see how far I’ve come, and realize that it has all been worth it.

Happy first birthday, fake ACL! May it be the first of many!

Imposter ACL deserves birthday crumb cake!

A co-worker gave me this balloon as part of a spontaneous, tongue-in-cheek celebration for my fake ACL recently, and I attached it to my leg accordingly!

A Farewell to PT: The End of an Era

It feels so bizarre to say this, but after 14 months, I have graduated from physical therapy at NovaCare! My last day there was May 29.

I spent four months at NovaCare leading up to my ACL reconstruction surgery, working hard to strengthen my left knee (and my attitude and my mental composition) before going under the knife. The NovaCare crew then led me through 10 months of post-op work, during which my new ACL and I learned to walk, pedal, run, and gain confidence in some return-to-sports skills.

When I think back to my first-ever PT appointment, in early April 2025, I almost don’t recognize myself – physically or emotionally. To put it nicely, when I walked through the doors of NovaCare for the first time, I did NOT want to be there. I would have preferred to have been, I don’t know, getting a root canal or an appendectomy. Paying a massive car repair bill. Getting food poisoning. Hitting my thumb with a hammer. Experiencing finals week in college – all eight finals weeks in college simultaneously.

I was sure that PT could not help me – so sure, in fact, that toward the beginning of that initial eval, I infamously remarked to my physical therapist, “Just so you know, this will be a waste of your time and mine.”

To Brittany’s credit, she took my snide remark like a champ and reassured me that she would do whatever it took to help get me back to athletics. I internally rolled my eyes (at least, I hope it was internal). And I rolled my eyes (again, I hope internally) when she said my injury was presenting as ACL. Nobody else had theorized that, so I knew she was 100% WRONG…

…until an MRI a few weeks later confirmed it actually was my ACL! Poor little ligament had gone out with a bang, quite literally. After I was finished swallowing my heaping portion of humble pie, my perspective on PT started to shift. It was dawning on me that if Brittany could pinpoint my ACL as the problem before any other medical personnel did, she might also have the tools to see me through the recovery process. PT might not be a waste of my time after all.

I gave this most prestigious award to Brittany after my surgery.

After that realization, I latched on to PT with everything I had. I was determined to do what it took to recover well from my ACL reconstruction surgery, meaning that I was going to stay at PT as long as I was truly benefiting from it.

And that chapter in my life has ended, effective just over two weeks ago. At my most recent re-eval, two weeks prior to my final PT session, Brittany and I talked about the timing of my impending discharge from PT. We agreed at that point that I had gotten the maximum benefit out of my PT program there, and we should turn the page on my time at NovaCare.

It’s bittersweet to have said goodbye to this place. On the one hand, graduating from NovaCare means my knee is well on its way along the road to healing. But on the other hand, it means I’m not crossing paths with the NovaCare crew at PT anymore, which I miss quite a bit. (I hope they’ll miss me too, but considering all the weird foods I’ve made them try and all the shenanigans I’ve engaged in over the past 14 months, they might be glad to see me go…)

Waiting at PT suuuuuper early one morning for some good-natured shenanigans

Before I was discharged, I added my name to the “Meet the Team” board (which was being updated, so nobody else was listed).

When I dragged myself through the doors of NovaCare basically kicking and screaming in April 2025, I never would have guessed the impact this place would have on me. Thanks to Brittany, Shannon, Taylor, and Jess, my view of physical therapy has done a 180. I transformed from thinking that physical therapy couldn’t help anyone (let alone me) to knowing that PT at NovaCare has played an invaluable role in my healing. The staff capably helped my knee regain its function and get stronger as I returned to normal life activities. But their support wasn’t just physical; they also helped me carry the mental and emotional load that inevitably comes with surgery and recovery. They rejoiced with me when I reached milestones, and they supported and encouraged me when I was struggling. There’s no way I could have come this far without them.

Let’s be honest: I could go on and on about NovaCare, PT in general, and everyone I worked with at PT. But instead, I’ll wrap this up by giving a few shout-outs:

-the NMES: I hated this thing! It hurt, it was uncomfortable, it filled me with dread – but it worked. It helped my once-pitiful left quad muscle return to what it was meant to be.

-the daily cat calendar: Located at the front desk, this calendar offers jokes, facts, funny observations, and more about felines. Right up my alley! Checking that calendar was one of the first things I did when I arrived before each session, and of course I had to flip through to see what I missed on days I wasn’t there.

So cute.

-NovaCare’s whiteboards: Every week, one of the boards featured a new inspirational quote. The quotes were often just what I needed to hear; one standout from last fall said, “An injury is just a pause, not the end.” And one of the shenanigans I engaged in almost weekly was adding something to that week’s quote, usually some sort of anti-Eagles jab or something about the Game Ready.
Another board featured a question/survey of the week, everything from whether you’d rather walk around all day in wet socks or with a pebble in your shoe to whether you prefer basketball or ice hockey to whether you’d rather go to the moon or to the deepest part of the ocean.

Little jab at the Eagles’ game manager, Jalen Hurts

I *love* this one.

Subtracting the Eagles from the equation

I added “Game Ready” as the border

-the Game Ready: Before Brittany hooked me up to this the very first time, she called it a “fan favorite.” It took me all of about 10 seconds to understand why! A machine that pumps icy-cold water through a mat that compresses as it’s wrapped around your compromised limb?! Yes, please! I had the pleasure of spending some quality time with the Game Ready at the end of almost every PT session, and I may or may not have jokingly tried to abscond with it a few times. It has changed my life!

In my happy place! We took this pic for my testimonial, which was shared at a regional NovaCare management meeting.

So, so nice. This was on my last day, so it was the last quality time I spent with the Game Ready! 😦

-PT pals: One of the most underrated parts of PT is your PT friends – other patients you tend to cross paths with regularly because your schedules align. You chat it up, cheer each other on, and have a blast – but then you never see them again. Maybe your schedule changed or theirs did, or maybe they got discharged, or whatever. But HUGE shout-out to Amanda, Dave, Connor, Andy, Ben, Tracy, Chris, and anyone else I may have missed! Y’all will probably never read this, but I wish you all the absolute best in your post-PT lives!

-the staff: I cannot say enough about these awesome people! Brittany, Shannon, Taylor, and Jess have been nothing short of incredible as they helped my knee return to form with its new ACL, as have the various students who’ve worked with me, Lexi, Jordan, and Tasha. And the past and present crew members who have manned the front desk, including Mary and Diane, have been friendly and welcoming and fun! Everyone at NovaCare has changed my life in such a positive way, and I’m going to miss them.

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Now that my time at NovaCare is over, what’s next for me? Well, I’m not quite released into the wild just yet, so to speak. Next up for me, as recommended by my surgeon, is a strength and conditioning program, which will help me regain more confidence in my knee as I target additional sports-related skills. (I have a few sessions under my belt at this point.)

It’s been phenomenal to see how far I’ve come, and it’ll be amazing to see how far I go. Thank you so much for everything, NovaCare – I love you!

My ACL Injury: A Year in Review

I’ve been told I have a great memory. One of the ways that’s evident is the way I remember dates.

Exactly one year ago from yesterday, my life changed; February 13, 2025, was the day I tore my ACL. And yesterday, February 13, 2026, was the day I ran on my own for the first time after being cleared by my doctor! YAHOO! Based on a running plan from my PT, I alternated running for two minutes and walking for two minutes until I reached a mile, which I was told should be my limit to start off. It felt so great to be out there! And this morning I went for another mile (with intervals) with Candace, my longtime running buddy!

In some ways, I can’t believe it’s been a whole year since my injury; it seems like yesterday. But in other ways, I can’t believe it’s only been a year; it seems like ages ago. So much has happened since then! Here’s a quick timeline (all but two of the dates are from memory):

This has been a wild year. So many setbacks, so much grit, so many comebacks and victories, and so much I’ve learned about myself along the way. I’m so blessed by how far I’ve come, and I know that will spur me onward as I head toward the finish line of this season of my life.

The Game Ready – my FAVORITE.

Cool pattern on my leg left by the Game Ready

It’s hard to do my step-downs at home sometimes when I have feline company…

Braving some winter-affected surfaces after a basketball game. A few months ago, I would not have been willing to try walking on this!

Showing off my new running sneakers!

My first run!

Thrilled with how my first run went!

Second run – with Candace this time!

First run (run/walk) on the left; second run (run/walk) on the right. Check out how much faster that second one is!

Embracing Hope – Six Months of ACL Post-Op Fun

It’s hard to believe it’s been six months since my surgery (July 25, 2025) – and almost a year since my injury (I see you, February 13, 2025, coming down the pike!). In that time, I’ve grown in a number of ways. In finding/maintaining/regaining balance. In patience. In staying the course even when things absolutely stink or when progress seems to stall. In compassion and understanding (in some ways, haha). In looking on the bright side (an absolute must!). In feeling HOPE that this journey to recovery from this ACL tear won’t be forever.

I started off the new year on the right foot – literally. This was easy to do since my surgically repaired leg is my left one!

Hope is a funny thing. Sometimes it appears when you expect it to, and other times it pops up completely randomly. There are times I’ll be living my life – sitting at work, for example, or driving my car – and I’ll just feel a surge of excitement in my spirit. At first I don’t know why, but then I realize: It’s hope, most likely. There’s hope on the horizon, and there’s hope here and now!

At this point in my recovery, I’m looking ahead more than I’m looking back. I’m anticipating what’s to come. A few months ago, I never would have thought I’d ever be able to say that; I was looking back so frequently. Sure, I still laugh sometimes at the funny things I said while waking up after my surgery, and I think back on occasion to how difficult certain tasks were for me at first. But for the most part, I’m anticipating my next…steps. (Pun intended. I’m so sorry; I couldn’t help it.)

And my next steps in recovery will be RUNNING. Technically, I’m already doing some of that at PT; it was a really nice surprise when I showed up for my session a few weeks ago and was told that I was going to start running that very day. It was light running – I was instructed to give it about 60% effort – but it felt SO good! (It was so meaningful to me that I cried some happy tears in the car on the way home afterward!)

[Quick side note: In my six months of ACL recovery, there have been four physical achievements that have meant the most to me:
1. Straight leg raises (achieved 8/4/25): It took me about a week of doing these with heavy assistance at PT to build the quad strength to do them myself. My PTA and I were so excited when I finally did them unassisted for the first time!
2. Walking without crutches, still in the knee brace (achieved 8/24/25): I started being weaned off crutches at PT on 8/22/25, and then I worked SO HARD at it over the weekend until I finally took my first steps two days later. When I started walking, I didn’t want to stop!
3. Full pedal rotations on the stationary bike (achieved 10/2/25): I’d been doing partial rotations – all that my limited range of motion would allow – for about a month and a half, but I could tell that my range of motion was improving and I was getting close to full rotations. When I finally did it, I was elated and ended up continuing the session on my stationary bike at home for a total of 30 minutes (instead of my initially intended 10 minutes)!
4. Running (achieved 1/5/26): After my re-eval at PT on 1/2, my PT told me running was in the near future, but I thought I was maybe two weeks away. Instead, when I arrived at PT on 1/5, she told me that this was the day! I gave a victory fist pump to the PT as I started running, and I held my emotions in check for the rest of the session until I got in my car to go home after. That was a special moment for sure.]

Anyway, my doctor said that the next time I see him, which will be in mid-February, he’s going to give me a program that I can implement on my own time to work myself back into running. That means that, in a few short weeks, I’ll be able to run in little bits and pieces. Outside. On my own.

I.

Can’t.

Wait.

But I’m going to! So when my spirit randomly surges when I’m in the middle of some regular and/or mundane things, I know it’s because I’m looking beyond the mundane things and anticipating the exciting things to come in the next few weeks. I’m excited to be able to start running outside again. I’m excited to see how the hamstring strength of my involved leg measures up to that of my good leg. I’m excited that my single-leg hops are getting better – so much better, in fact, that the new PT quietly and genuinely remarked to the PTA the other day, “I love seeing progress.” I’m excited about the possibility that I might be able to do some non-contact drills at basketball practice. I’m excited to (I hope) run a 17 with my basketball team by the end of the season – at my own more leisurely pace, of course.

I’m greatly anticipating these things, and it’s this anticipation for these milestones that helps me have the patience I need to wait to do them. If I’m not patient, I’ll rush right into them before I’m physically ready, risking a setback. But if I’m all patience, with no anticipation, I won’t attack recovery with as much gusto, which will hinder my recovery. Make sense?

The perfect blend of anticipation and patience is key to my recovery. And right now, in this moment, I think I’ve found it. (Sure, things will probably become unbalanced again, but part of growing as a human is being able to figure out how to regain that balance.)

As part of that blend of anticipation and patience as I await my clearance to start running outdoors, I ordered myself some new running sneakers the other day. I’ve needed them for quite a while, but obviously it didn’t make sense for me to launch a bunch of money at new sneakers when I wouldn’t be able to make the best use of them. But now that I’m (I hope) just a few weeks away from running, I decided it was time to treat myself!

I intended to purchase the sneakers outright, but the store didn’t have my size in stock (my feet are large-ish), so they ordered them for me.

These are on their way to me!

Purchasing these sneakers was the anticipatory part of the process. The patience part? That’ll be NOT using them for running until I’m cleared! (I will wear them for PT in the meantime, just so I can break them in a bit, of course.)

These sneakers are more than just some accessories to throw on my feet. They’re a symbol of recovery. Of progress. Of freedom from the limitations I’ve had this past year. Of embracing that this injury has been (to quote inspirational material posted at PT a few months ago) “just a pause, not the end.” They’re a symbol of HOPE.

Sunrise on a walk a few weeks back

After surgery on 7/25/25 (left) and celebrating my post-surgery six-monthiversary by enjoying the snow from the porch today, 1/25/26 (right)

The “Kneed” To Choose Gratitude

As each year wraps up, I, like many people, take the opportunity to think back on the previous 365 days – the good, the bad, the ugly. But when it came time to tie a bow on 2025, I found myself being even more reflective than usual.

This past year has, overall, been brutal in just about every phase of life. Health issues (mine and others’), temporary and permanent losses, financial hits, and a range of other challenges made 2025 not exactly my favorite. (And the fact that my car’s alternator died the day before New Year’s Eve really was a fitting way to cap off the year.)

If you’ve been following along with my posts lately, you’ll know that the BIG, BAD THING that happened this past year was tearing my ACL in my left knee. I didn’t expect to enter 2025 with my two natural ACLs and leave with only one (the other being replaced with part of my patellar tendon). Brief recap: I injured my knee in February, but I didn’t get it checked until April. I got the answer (torn ACL) in May, and then I had ACL reconstruction surgery in late July and have been working on my recovery since then.

There are so many things that could have gone so much better this year, but I still have so much to be grateful for. And so, even though it’s difficult sometimes, I aim to choose gratitude. I need – “kneed,” if you will – to choose it.

For example, last spring, when the MRI said I had torn my ACL, my doctor wasn’t quite on board with that result yet. I initially felt frustrated, but I (eventually) chose to be grateful that he wanted to take steps (haha) to make sure of the injury, rather than just cutting my knee open right away. The time it took for him to get on board gave me additional weeks to strengthen my knee at physical therapy and get in better shape prior to surgery, which has been helpful in the overall recovery process.

And when I feel frustrated that it seems like my progress has plateaued, I can look back at my Baby’s First journal (in which I track my knee-related improvements, both small and large). This reminds me of how far I’ve come physically in the past few months – even the past few weeks.

Gratitude really is a conscious choice sometimes, rather than a natural response. But the more I consciously choose it, the more it should become a natural response.

So, as part of continuing to choose gratitude, here are a few things I’m thankful for about 2025 (not an exhaustive list):

1. A great family vacation in Ocean City, NJ, in June: This was our first extended family vacation, and we all had such a great time overall. Although my knee prevented me from doing ALL the things I would normally do on vacation, I did hit my three major (adjusted) goals:
-go under the water in the ocean. I wasn’t allowed to body surf or boogie board or go into very deep/rough water, etc., and I had to be careful on the sand. But I was able to go in the ocean deep enough to fully submerge myself. Win!
-walk to both ends of the 2.5-mile boardwalk. On a normal beach vacation, I would walk the entire length of the boardwalk and back (totaling about 5 miles) in one go, and I would do it multiple times per day. But this time around, I couldn’t overdo it with my knee, so my goal was to walk from a midpoint on the boardwalk to one end and back one day and to walk from that midpoint to the other end and back another day. And I did!
-walk the Causeway. This is a scenic sequence of bridges totaling about 2 miles one way (4 miles in all). I hadn’t walked that far in one go since I injured my knee, but I felt like I could give it a try, especially after my other vacation walks had gone so well. And one morning, my Seastar (sister) and I did it, and it was amazing!

Walking the Causeway

Walking the Causeway some more

Day 1 of walking half of the boardwalk and back

Day 2 of walking half of the boardwalk and back

Doing some PT exercises with my nephew

2. Hurricane relief in North Carolina in July: Before I injured my knee, I had signed on to go with a group from my church to work with Adventures in Missions for a week over the summer. When I learned the extent of my knee injury, one of my first thoughts was whether I could still go on the trip. Thankfully, my doctor and physical therapist both gave me the go-ahead, with certain restrictions (no ladders, no rooftop work, etc.). And the trip was incredible; even though I did come back with gnarly poison ivy, I got to bless others and be blessed in return. Plus, I still found time to do my PT exercises every morning and every evening, and I was able to do a short, non-strenuous hike to see a gorgeous sunrise!

Scenic sunrise!

Workin’ hard or hardly workin’…

Our group!

Doing PT exercises in the (relatively clean) bathroom trailer on base

A tough pair on night watch on base

See? I told you this poison ivy was gnarly!

3. My medical team (!!): My doctor is knowledgeable and careful, and my physical therapy team – wow, I just can’t say enough about them. From my primary PT to the other PTs and PTAs on staff to the various students, everyone is friendly, funny, knowledgeable, and invested in my recovery. I legitimately look forward to physical therapy, which is a complete 180 from where my attitude was when I started PT last spring. (At the time, I grumpily told my primary PT, whom I had just met, “This will be a waste of your time and mine.” How wrong I was!) I’m getting stronger and more confident and physically better thanks to PT. Leaving PT at some point in 2026 will be bittersweet for sure!

The perspective on this photo is a bit skewed, but what’s not skewed is my perspective on PT!

4. Ice/compression therapy: As I was nearing the end of one of my early PT visits last spring, I was introduced to the Game Ready, which my PT called “a fan favorite.” I was skeptical at first, but it took all of like 3 seconds for me to see why people love this thing. It’s icy cold, and it compresses around the injured/recovering body part, and that combination is phenomenal. It’s a great way to wrap up my PT sessions! Various friends advised me to get a similar (but less-expensive) device for home, and I did; it has been worth EVERY penny. If you ever get knee surgery, procure one of these machines if you can. (I went with the Polar Active Ice 3.0, but there are a bunch of other options out there too.)

Enjoying my ice therapy machine at home by the light of my Christmas tree

5. Friends and family: Honestly, the support I’ve received from people I love has blown me away! I’ve had people pray for me, visit with me, bring me food, ask about my knee, and be super understanding when I’ve had to change plans or not show up to things due to knee issues or the weather, etc. A co-worker (not even a supervisor!) organized multiple cards to be sent to me while I was off work after my surgery. People have gotten me flowers. My neighbors brought me my mail for weeks and scooped my cats’ litter! I could go on and on about all the ways I’ve been blessed. I couldn’t have made it this far in recovery without you all.

Dad accompanying me on a walk a few months ago

Enjoying some ice cream with Mom

Tim Tams from friends!

Good friends at a Christmas market

Never underestimate the power of a cat to heal you…

…and sometimes bewilder you.

6. Improved fitness: When I was weighed during a visit to the knee doctor last spring, I was waaaaaay too close to a number I didn’t want to see. I knew my knee and I would benefit if I focused on my health, so that’s what I did. I’ve been eating more protein and healthy fats, and I’ve cut out a lot of (not all!) added sugar. I’ve exercised in the few ways I can; although I haven’t been able to run or play basketball (yet), I have made a point to regularly do the few things I can do, like walk, lift weights, and ride a stationary bike. These efforts have led me to lose 35-ish pounds so far! Knee aside, I feel so much better than I did last winter/spring.

7. Overall progress: Sure, I could get caught up on the fact that I’m not able to run yet. OR I could bask in my abilities to do things like:
-walk (which at one low point I dramatically thought I’d never be able to do without a brace, and now I’m walking a mile in about 15 minutes on a good knee day)
-ride a stationary bike with full pedal rotations (for many weeks I was only able to do partial rotations due to my knee’s then-limited range of motion)
-strength train (including things I initially couldn’t do due to my knee, like push-ups)
I even bought a Christmas tree, carried it up three flights of stairs, and set it up in its stand all by myself! Plus, I’m starting to do precursors to running at PT – like pogo jumps, forward/backward/lateral hops, single-leg hops, etc. – things that are prepping me for the next portion of my recovery.

Fastest average pace on my stationary bike yet! (Post-surgery, that is)

I carried my Christmas tree up three flights of stairs and set it up all by myself – way to go, knee!

Fun with quad stretches – check out that range of motion (approx. 150 degrees)!

Heading to my EMG (nerve study) a few weeks ago while keeping my head and hands warm, as instructed…

My baby steps on some freshly fallen snow

8. My functional brace: I got fitted for a functional brace a couple weeks ago and was able to pick it up on Christmas Eve; what a great Christmas present! When I’m eventually cleared to do some non-contact exercise outside of PT (like jogging on a road/track), I’ll have the option to wear this brace for a while. I learned that apparently, a lot of people are unhappy when they see it because, despite being called a functional brace (which implies that it’ll be sleek), it’s pretty clunky! So, yes, I could be bummed that it’s clunky – or I could look at it as the next step toward full recovery and be excited for the freedom and security it’s going to bring me! I’m choosing the latter.

Clunky, but…

…I’m grateful for it!

9. Timing: Sometimes things happen, and they’re just lousy – but, when all is said and done, we can look back and realize that they could have been so much lousier (or maybe just not as good) if the timing had been different. For example…if I had gone to the doctor right away after injuring my knee in February, I wouldn’t have gotten connected with the woman who ended up becoming my primary physical therapist because of her schedule at that time. But because I didn’t go to the doctor (and subsequently physical therapy) until April, I happened to be put on her schedule, and she has been such a blessing, as has the rest of her team!
And take the very recent issue with my car’s alternator as another example. Sure, it’s not great that the alternator decided to die on me. BUT it didn’t die until I was practically at work! This issue could have reared its ugly head while I was much farther from work or, worse, on a busy road. I could be dismayed by the ensuing car bill, but I’m choosing to be thankful that this happened the way it did!

Choosing joy and gratitude…

…on a recent offseason trip to Ocean City, MD

10. God: I’ll be honest in sharing with y’all that I’ve let Him know on more than one occasion recently that I wish He’d worked in different ways this year. I’d rather not have torn my ACL, gotten surgery, and been walking (haha) this long path to recovery. I’d rather not have to watch loved ones navigate their own health issues or deal with losses and grief. I’d rather not have certain stresses in my life. I’d love for some key things in my life to be drastically different. But even through it all, He’s been good. He’s been gracious. He’s been steadfast. He’s been understanding. He’s been patient. He’s been loving. He’s been trying to mold me into His image. He’s been there for me, even when I’ve been upset with Him and with the way certain things have been going. So even when I don’t understand why things are the way they are, I have to choose to trust and to be grateful.

As I wave goodbye to this past super weird, completely bizarre year, I believe 2026 is going to hold some exciting things for me: a return to athletic activities, some trips, greater health/fitness, a renewed focus on God and His goodness, and probably some other things that aren’t fully fleshed out yet.

But through it all – the good, the bad, and the ugly – I will continue to aim to choose gratitude. And when 2026 concludes, no matter what the year ends up holding, I hope I’ll be able to say I’ve done just that.

Meandering Through the Lights: My First Post-Surgery 5K

“Hey, Brittany,” I said to my PT toward the end of one of my mid-November physical therapy sessions. I was lying on one of the tables with my leg propped up, happily connected to the Game Ready (ice/compression therapy machine). “What are the chances I could walk a 5K between now and the end of December?”

See, I’ve done at least one official timed athletic event each year since 2011. Because I tore my ACL in mid-February and then had surgery in late July, I hadn’t been able to do any timed events this year, and I knew time was waning. That said, I didn’t want to risk my long-term health/recovery simply to keep this streak going.

Brittany paused for only a split second before responding. “Yeah, that’s fine,” she said as my heart leaped. “I don’t have a problem with that as long as it’s on even ground.”

No worries there, I assured her; it would definitely be a road race. And I knew that, no matter what 5K I chose, I wanted someone with me to share the experience. So I asked my mom!

Mom and I have done so many athletic events together over the years, from our first-ever 5K in September 2011 to her first half marathon (my second) to a free half marathon in Connecticut, which ended up being really expensive once all the travel (and ice cream) costs were factored in. When I asked her if she would accompany me on my first post-surgery 5K, she quickly said yes!

As I researched local 5K races, one stood out: the Dashing Through the Lights 5K. This annual race starts at 10 p.m. on a Friday in mid-December and takes participants through a festive area illuminated with 1 million Christmas lights. Bingo!

We registered, and before we knew it, race day arrived!

December 12 was a chilly night, with temperatures in the 20s. If I was going to be running a race in those temperatures, I’d know how to dress. But as I got myself decked out in festive garb, I wasn’t exactly sure how to array myself since I was going to be walking the entire thing and therefore would not be warming up as much or as quickly. So I just made sure to layer up.

Ah, yes – walking the entire thing. Under normal circumstances, I would be dismayed at the thought. But under the special circumstances of coming back from an ACL reconstruction, I was thrilled to know that, barring a catastrophe, I would be crossing a finish line later that night. I even jokingly dubbed the race the “Meandering Through the Lights 5K” in honor of the fact that I was going to be walking.

Since the race was at a minor league baseball stadium relatively close to my parents’ house, I picked Mom up on the way and we headed over, arriving a little before 9:30 p.m. We picked up our race bibs and gifts (race scarves and Christmas light necklaces) and walked around a bit to check out the decorations and also keep warm.

After what felt like a long while (because of the cold), the crowds started to move toward what we assumed was the starting area, and we followed. We stayed toward the back because we weren’t in it for a good finishing time and because we didn’t want to get trampled by the people behind us. It was a solid strategy.

Getting ready to go!

Someone said something over a loudspeaker, but we couldn’t tell what he was saying. It was probably something about the race starting, though, because the crowd started to move and then we were off!

Not off like a flash of lightning, but off like a…tractor trailer, maybe? Just very methodical with a steady pace.

Our strategy of starting toward the end was a good one; I didn’t feel like my knee was at risk due to crowds, and it wasn’t long until all the participants were spaced out. And even though the race was obviously held at night, there were so many Christmas lights that visibility wasn’t a huge issue, either. Plus, everything was so festive and everyone was so happy!

After a few minutes of walking, I realized runners were coming up behind me, whizzing past. It was at that moment that it dawned on me that this race course was multiple loops (three, as it turned out), so I was going to have to be SUPER careful not to get in the way of all the people lapping me. To be honest, I was a little uneasy at the thought that one of them could collide with me and reinjure me simply by not seeing me, but thankfully that didn’t end up happening. Mom placed herself strategically on my left side to protect my knee, but there were times throughout the race that she would go ahead of me or behind me or on my right, depending on what the need (or “kneed,” haha) was.

Part of each loop took us on the field of the minor league baseball stadium, which was also decked out for Christmas. It was so festive, and I kept a relatively quick pace as I started walking that part of the course and taking in the sights. The part of the field dedicated to the 5K was covered with textured hard plastic (I think?).

“Does this seem slippery to you?” Mom asked me when we were partway through our first loop of the baseball field.

“No, I don’t think so!” I replied, keeping a brisk pace. Then it dawned on me that I should be careful, just in case. I slowed my pace and dragged my right (non-injured) foot on the ground a bit to test Mom’s theory; lo and behold, the plastic did seem a bit slippery. Nothing too dangerous – as long as I was careful.

“Actually,” I said to Mom. “I think you’re right. Let’s just take it a little more slowly.”

Slippery-ish plastic!

We finished the first loop in 18:10, which wasn’t too bad considering that 1) we were walking, 2) we were in crowds for part of it and couldn’t pass people super easily at all times, 3) we had to be watchful of runners coming up from behind us, and 4) it was dark, even though all the lights helped tremendously.

Runners were still lapping us during our second loop, but I knew this was the last loop that we’d have to contend with this; runners would be done with the race by the time we started our third loop!

The lights were just as festive the second time around, and Mom and I were having a great time talking and just enjoying ourselves.

The Reason for the Season!

Our second lap was completed in 18:25, probably because I took it pretty slowly on the slippery-ish plastic surface on the baseball field again!

The third lap treated us to our final viewing of all the lights, and I tried to absorb it all. My knee was feeling OK for the most part, but I was looking forward to being done since I could tell it was going to be sore by the following morning. Thankfully, since most people had finished the 5K at this point, there were not many others to contend with out on the course – but, since we had passed a couple other walkers, I knew we weren’t last!

One final trek through the baseball stadium

As we exited the stadium, I knew we only had a few tenths of a mile to go. When we rounded the final corner and I saw the finish line up ahead, it was all I could do to NOT break into a jog! But I had promised Brittany that I would only walk, so…I kept my word.

On the homestretch! (Mom is blurry – sorry, Mom!)

The finish line!

The baseball team’s mascot, Cylo, and a guy dressed as the Grinch were cheering us on as we approached. “Just run the last little bit!” the Grinch urged. If only he knew how much I desperately wanted to and how hard it was to just walk across the finish line instead! But I just gave him a big grin(ch) and a thumbs-up and picked up my walking pace as I headed toward the finish.

Even before I crossed the finish line, my eyes teared up. I had done it – my first post-surgery 5K! We completed the race in 55:47, an average of 18:08/mile – but the time doesn’t matter. What matters is that I did it! We did it!

I gave Mom a huge hug and let a few more tears fall. This has, if I’m being honest, been an incredibly difficult year. And finishing this 5K was my way of saying that the circumstances of this year are able to be overcome!

WE DID IT!

Even the Grinch and Cylo congratulated me on the finish and asked for a photo with me:

Mom and I enjoyed some complimentary hot chocolate and headed to the car. After I dropped Mom off and drove home, I was filled with gratitude:
I finished a 5K! Yes, to some, it’s just a 5K, only 3.1 miles. But to me, it’s a symbol of hope that I’m on the path to recovery from this ACL injury! In August, I remember fighting with myself as I struggled to walk without crutches. And here I was in December, walking a 5K – the farthest distance I’ve walked in a single shot since before my surgery!

Was my knee sore the next day? Absolutely! Was it worth it? Also absolutely! Would I do it again? I’m sure you can guess the answer – ABSOLUTELY.

And one of these days (well, weeks or months, more likely), I’ll be writing a recap of how I ran my first post-surgery 5K! That’s not now, of course – in fact, it’ll probably be quite a while from now – but I’m going to keep plugging away, day by day, to get myself to that point. Let’s go!

ACL Q&A

Nope, no actual words in this headline! For those dutifully keeping track, today marks three months since my new ACL (former patellar tendon) was grafted into place! Time sure flies – and simultaneously moves more slothfully than I did in any of my marathons – when you have a newly constructed ACL, I tell you.

I’ve been telling myself that this recovery is a marathon, not a sprint. After all, I’m told this recovery process can last 12 months from the date of surgery. Given the fact that I’m three months out from surgery, that puts me about 25% of the way through – the equivalent of being 6.55 miles through a marathon (26.2 miles). As someone who’s completed two marathons, I know this comparison means I have a ways to go. I’m in it for the long haul. A solid portion of it will be enjoyable and encouraging, and a heap of it will probably feel demoralizing and frustrating. But I can’t allow myself to get caught up in every emotional whim or every perceived lack of incredible progress – or lack of basic, minimal progress. I just have to keep plodding along. Eventually I’ll reach the finish line.

Crossing the finish line of my second marathon in 2016 (I promise I do have a right leg…). Can’t wait to cross the finish line of my current event – ACL surgery recovery!

For the three-monthiversary blog post, I figured I’d answer a couple FAQs – or what I think are probably FAQs since I didn’t ask anyone to send me any. So here we go!

Q: How are you doing physically these days?

A: Generally fine. I’m not in pain regularly, and my mobility and strength are always improving as I faithfully do my at-home PT exercises! I still have trouble sleeping most nights due to discomfort, though.

Q: How does your knee feel?

A: The right one feels great, as it should! Oh, you mean the left one, which is the one with the new ACL? Yeah, the left one feels…artificial, I guess? I can tell there’s something different about it. It’s stiff whenever I move it, and it’s stiff when I don’t. (It’s funny because I’m supposed to bend it, but not for too long, and I’m supposed to straighten it, but not for too long. And what qualifies as “too long” varies from day to day, so just because I happen to figure out the timing correctly one day doesn’t mean I’ll get it right the next day!) I do have some lateral pain behind my knee when I bend it too far or straighten it too far; general consensus among the medical professionals in my life is that this is because my range of motion has been restricted to forward/backward for a long time due to the knee brace and due to my being really careful with my knee prior to surgery. To combat this, PT has me working on some controlled lateral movements and tibial rotations to loosen things up.

I feel kind of bad because my knee specialist has asked me at my last few visits if my knee feels better/more stable/etc. than it did before surgery – and I keep saying no! It honestly felt so much better, so much stronger, so much more trustworthy, before surgery than it does right now. I have very little trust in it. When I’m doing most of the strengthening exercises (either at PT or at home), I find my brain is often planning for what to do if my knee gives out. “If I’m doing step-ups and my knee fails and I start falling, which direction should I go so I don’t hit my head on anything?” You know, stuff like that.

Thankfully, there are a couple sitting positions where my knee feels normal. But other than that, every standing, walking, and lying-down position, along with a handful of seated ones, reminds me that I had knee surgery. Because the knee just doesn’t feel right. Yet?

Basically, I’m always either actively or passively thinking, “I HAD KNEE SURGERY!” every time I move because my knee feels weird. But my knee specialist and PT have assured me that my knee will eventually feel like the other one. Here’s hoping.

Q: How are you doing emotionally?

A: Oh, that depends on the day – or the hour, really. Sometimes the minute. I find I’m most emotionally fragile between 7 and 9:30 p.m. when I’m doing my at-home exercises. That’s when I tend to feel down and hopeless about the whole situation: “I’ll never recover from this. I’ve had 37 healthy years before tearing my ACL. So if this is the end of my active life, then fine…” Thankfully, now that I’m aware that this timing is when my mood can more easily dip, I can combat it more easily or at least wait it out.

Sometimes I just need to acknowledge that, yes, this absolutely stinks sometimes. Once I do that, I can more easily move on with life for the time being.

I am legitimately upbeat 99% of the time I’m at PT, though. I love that place.

Q: How is PT going?

A: Fantastic! It’s funny that I was so cynical about PT back in April (even notably telling my PT that “this will be a waste of your time and mine” – whoops). And now I get to go three times a week, and it’s pretty much the only thing I look forward to! (I do also enjoy youth group, and I’m enthusiastic about basketball open gyms and the upcoming season, as well. And time with family and friends, of course.)

At PT, we’ve started moving on to more functional activities, which is exciting after I spent a solid handful of weeks working on the basics (range of motion, etc.) – obviously that was needed. And I’m still focusing on the basics at home! I should add that when I say “functional activities,” I mean the most foundational level, where the focus is still on strengthening: step-ups on increasingly higher boxes, assisted lunges and squats, walking forward and backward on a treadmill – those kinds of things. Those exercises are the next step (pun completely intended) to eventually starting to run and jump. Let’s do it!

Quad stretches a couple weeks ago – my range of motion is so much better now!

Q: Are you still obsessed with the Game Ready, and do you still get to use it at PT?

A: OF COURSE. That cold/ice therapy machine is my BFF! Everyone at PT knows how much I love it, so they jokingly ask me toward the end of each session, “Think you’ll want ice today?” or they’ll say something like, “Just one more exercise and then we’ll give you ice – if you think you want it…” Hahaha, I’m always quick to respond, “YES!!” One of these days maybe I’ll get them to leave me on it for a solid hour. (They won’t do that – an hour is way too long – but a girl can dream! Game Ready sessions are usually 10 minutes, but they do give me 15 sometimes!)

The note on the Game Ready may or may not be my handwriting, and I may or may not have been the one to affix it to the Game Ready, so the Game Ready may or may not have been legitimately gifted to me… (The note says, “To Krista, with love from Brittany and the crew <3”)

Q: Aside from your PT exercises, what kinds of exercise are you able and allowed to do?

A: I can currently walk, ride a stationary bike, and lift weights! Super exciting!

My walking pace has improved from a 47-minute mile to about an 18-minute mile. I had set a goal of walking a total of 20 miles without my knee brace (so I could earn a MammothMarch finisher shirt since I wasn’t actually able to do any of those 20-mile hikes this year). After taking my first official sans-brace exercise walk on September 7, I officially reached 20 miles on October 19 during a fundraising walk I did with my parents, sister, and nephew! Wooooo!!!

Walking with the family!

My pseudo-MammothMarch mileage breakdown. I can’t wait to do an actual MammothMarch again at some point!

As for the stationary bike, I had been working on that at PT and at home. For weeks, I wasn’t able to do full rotations on the pedals, just partial rotations (think of it like the pirate ship ride at amusement parks, just up and back and up and back…). But on October 2, as I was doing partial rotations at home and was about 7 minutes into a 10-minute cycling session, I could tell I was getting close to going the whole way around, and then…it just happened! I was so elated that I kept on going – to 15 minutes, then to 20, and then to 30, at which point I made myself stop because I knew if I didn’t, I would just keep on going probably forever. My speed that day wasn’t fast, but speed wasn’t the point; better range of motion was. But now I’m getting faster, even averaging over 14 mph for a 30-minute session a few days ago! (Again, I’m not pushing myself to go fast right now, but it is encouraging to see that the speed at which I can comfortably cycle is improving!)

The top left was when I could only do partial pedal rotations. The top right was the first day I was able to do full rotations! The last four show continued progress.

As for lifting weights, there are a few lifts in my routine that I can’t do/haven’t been cleared to do right now, so I either skip them entirely or modify them. But it feels so good to be able to do some strength training! Every day I’ve also been doing pull-ups and chin-ups with a focus on negative resistance, and it’s been amazing to see my improvement there.

Honestly, my at-home exercises – like these hamstring stretches – can double as strength training sometimes!

Q: What’s next?

A: More PT, more follow-up visits with the knee specialist, more improvements and progress (I hope!), eventually starting to jog…you know.

But perhaps most excitingly, basketball season will be starting in less than a month! We just had our first open gym this morning, and I’m so pumped. Of course, it’s bittersweet, because I can’t take part in anything. Nothing with any sort of contact or potential contact. No demonstrations, no helping to rebound for the girls, no drills, definitely no scrimmaging. That will be TOUGH. But if I don’t adhere to the rules, that could mean a massive setback for me, which will mean an even longer time I’ll have to go without the sport I love! So I must be patient.

I may have been taking a walk, but I was longing to be on the court!

OK, I think that about does it for the FAQs! If there’s anything you want to know, drop a question in the comments and maybe I’ll answer it next time.

In the meantime, I’ll keep plodding onward. I’m grateful for the 25% to 33.3% of this journey that’s behind me – what it’s taught me, how I’ve progressed, how I’ve grown, the ways that others have supported me in my recovery. And I’m focused on what lies ahead. After all, I still have 19.65 figurative miles left of this ACL recovery marathon to do.

Two Months Along on the ACL Journey

Today marks TWO MONTHS since my ACL reconstruction surgery! I can hardly believe it. Where has the time gone? Well, you know what they say: Time flies when you’re…super slow at everything and relearning all your previous basic skills! (That’s how the saying goes, right? No? Well, close enough.)

For this special two-monthiversary post, I thought it would be fun to take a look at some of the things I’ve liked and disliked about the whole post-surgery experience, as well as some things that have gone as expected and some things that have surprised me.

But first…

In honor of the school year being in its relative infancy, let’s kick things off with a SHORT POP QUIZ! Don’t worry; it’s multiple choice. And there’s nothing riding on this at all, which means that if you fail, you won’t have to repeat your grade level. Conversely, if you ace the quiz, you get absolutely nothing other than the satisfaction of having some sort of innate knowledge about the surgery-related portion of my life. Yay? Now, class, let’s get started:

1. What part of the ACL reconstruction process was I most nervous for?
   • A. the surgery itself
   • B. the first post-surgery physical therapy session
   • C. the first post-surgery shower
   • D. removal of stitches
2. Who was my first passenger when I started driving again?
   • A. my dad
   • B. my mom
   • C. my sister
   • D. my nephew
   • E. my cats
3. Who was the first person to see me walk without crutches or a brace?
   • A. my parents
   • B. my physical therapist
   • C. my neighbor
   • D. my mischievous friend Debbie
4. What activity do I miss most from pre-surgery/pre-ACL-tear life?
   • A. basketball
   • B. hiking
   • C. running/races
   • D. other sports/activities (tennis, racquetball, football, kayaking, riding a bike, etc.)
   • E. all of the above and more
5. Friends and family have been wonderfully supportive, but what is one thing most refuse to do for me?
   • A. bring me food
   • B. take pictures with me
   • C. pray for me
   • D. massage my knee scar

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

OK, answer time!

1. C. the shower itself! I felt so peaceful about the surgery and about getting stitches out. I was a little apprehensive about my first PT session because I felt like it could be painful/torture (but it wasn’t. because my PT is awesome!). But I was TERRIFIED to shower for the first time post-surgery! In fact, after the doctor gave me the all-clear to shower, I waited a handful of days, opting to continue sponge baths and washing my hair in the sink. Let’s face it: Getting into and out of a slippery tub with a bum leg (even though I was going to sit down for the shower itself) is intimidating, to say the least. But eventually I decided it was time to shower, and, even though I was SO SCARED, I did it successfully. Woo!

2. A. my dad! My first time back behind the wheel was to go to the store. I was still on crutches, so my dad came along to help me by pushing the shopping cart and transporting groceries.

3. B. my physical therapist! When I was getting weaned off crutches but was still in the knee brace, I had no witnesses when I started walking. But when I walked for the first time without crutches or the brace, Brittany was keeping an eye on me. I was about six weeks post-op. She’d just gotten done stretching me out (without the brace on), and then she told me to stand up and walk. I was like, “Want me to put the brace on first?” She told me no, that I should just walk without it. And I did! She asked me how it felt, and I replied, “Weird but good! I haven’t done this in a hot minute!”

This is from a later walk with my dad, not my very first walk at PT.

4. E. all of the above! Duh. That should have been a pretty easy one!

5. D. massage my knee scar. Rude, right? I can’t believe nobody wants to do that…

So how did you do? Feel free to leave your score in the comments, or you can just keep it a secret between you, yourself, and you.

These past two months have been filled with every emotion I thought possible – and some I didn’t even know were possible! There have been good times, rough times, emotional times, uplifting times, encouraging times, devastating times, and, well, you get the idea. It would be way too much (for you and for me) to launch into a play-by-play, so instead I’m going to hit a couple categories. These lists won’t be exhaustive, but they’ll touch on some major points. So, without further ado…

THINGS THAT HAVE MATCHED MY EXPECTATIONS:

~Emotions. I was told that I would experience the full range of emotions, and, as I mentioned in the previous paragraph, I have! And they can change at the drop of a hat. Just last night, as I was doing my at-home PT exercises, I was thinking about how this experience hasn’t been fun, but it has been manageable; I felt very encouraged and optimistic. Literally 15 minutes later, still doing exercises (that were going well, I might add), I felt incredibly frustrated – not at any specific element of my recovery, but just frustrated in general. Thankfully, I know to expect such emotional rollercoasters at this point, so that knowledge helps me through those times.

~Doubting my ability to recover. This could technically fall under the “Emotions” category, I suppose. No matter what skills I relearn, no matter what progress I make, there’s this little part of my brain that’s telling me that I won’t really be able to ever trust my knee again. I had expected these messages, honestly, and I figured that over the course of time, I’d gain the confidence necessary to believe I could trust my knee and return to all my activities. Although I’m walking and doing stairs at this point, I still feel like my knee could go at any time. On a good day, my thought process is something like, “I really hope I can get back to being super active.” But on a bad day, it’s more like, “I’m never going to trust my knee to do anything again. It’s just not worth the risk.” Obviously, I’m still very early on in the recovery process, so we’ll see if I regain confidence or if I just avoid most athletic activities once I’m healed if I decide the risks outweigh the possible rewards.

A bunch of my medals from past athletic events. Really hoping I can mentally overcome whatever’s telling me my knee will never be trustworthy again!

~Loving PT. Despite my initial misgivings about PT (its value and effectiveness, etc.), I grew to love it during the months leading up to my surgery as I saw how wrong my opinion had been. I figured my love of PT would continue after surgery, and I was right! I’m going to PT three times a week, and it is one of the highlights of my week. If I could do physical therapy exercises as my full-time job, I would be happy as a clam! It’s encouraging to note my progress, whether that’s seeing improvement in range-of-motion measurements or learning new exercises or increasing time/intensity/weights.

Lumpy left calf on the left, more recovered left calf on the right, thanks to PT!

THINGS THAT HAVE SURPRISED ME:

~How quickly I go from not being able to do something to being able to do it (sometimes). I went from not being able to raise my straightened leg off the ground to doing 3×10 straight leg raises in less than a week – and beyond that, I went from needing help to do two sets of straight leg raises at PT to doing the third all by myself like 30 seconds later. And I went from unable to take steps in my knee brace without crutches on a Friday to walking (still in the brace) on a Sunday – after a gutsy Saturday where part of my brain was telling me I’d never walk unassisted again and the other part of my brain was telling me I still needed to try. (See “Doubting my ability to recover” above.) I went from being fully reliant on crutches and a knee brace to walking confidently without either in less than two weeks.
Having these quick-turnaround experiences behind me should help to fuel me during the coming months, when I will undoubtedly be asked to do things I can’t do/don’t yet feel like I can do.

Just a little range-of-motion progress. Hard work, but it’s worth it!

~My knee and I still don’t speak the same language. I mean, we’re more than nine months past the injury (where it popped and I thought it was fine and didn’t get it looked at for a couple months), so you’d think we would have learned to communicate a little better by now. But sometimes I think it’s doing fine, only to realize that it’s really stiff. Sometimes I’m really pleased at how well it’s bending, only to realize that it causes me great discomfort when it’s straightened. And sometimes I feel pretty good about how well I’m straightening it, only to realize that it feels funny when I bend it. Basically, I need to bend my knee, but not all the time, and I need to straighten my knee, but not all the time. There’s no set timetable that I’ve been able to figure out; it’s luck of the draw (since my knee can’t really tell me), and I often guess incorrectly.

Jerk.

~Numb knee. There’s a spot on my knee, about two inches by two inches on the left of my knee scar, that I can’t feel at all. On the one hand, I shouldn’t be surprised by this, because my doctor apparently told me (in my final pre-op appointment) that some numbness was a possibility. That said, he probably told me that while he was listing all the things that could go wrong, like he’s obligated to do; the first thing he listed was “possibility of a re-tear,” so I think my brain got stuck on that (even though that’s obviously always a possibility) and I didn’t hear anything else. Ha! Anyway, he said that the feeling comes back for some people and doesn’t for other people. So we shall see.

See that spot? I can’t feel that! (Also, I’m in my car here, but I wasn’t driving; the car was in park.)

~My weight. In recent years, I had been steadily packing on the weight, due in great part to poor choices stemming from my inability to cope with a pretty unpleasant aspect of my life. But in the spring, with my ACL reconstruction surgery looming, I knew I needed to take control of my health, improve my fitness, and get stronger. Even though I couldn’t fully work out, I started doing what I could do, which was basically walking, riding my stationary bike, and lifting weights. From mid-April until my surgery at the end of July, I had lost about 17 pounds. Obviously, I wasn’t very mobile after my surgery, and there wasn’t much to do other than eat and sleep. But I made it a point to fuel myself primarily with foods that were going to benefit me – while still enjoying treats every so often, of course! Now, two months after my surgery, I’m still trying to stay disciplined in the area of food consumption while gradually incorporating exercise as I’m cleared to do so; mainly, that’s a scaled-down version of weightlifting, light/slow walks, and the stationary bike (doing partial rotations of the pedals since my knee can’t bend enough to do full rotations yet). I’m currently down nearly 25 pounds total, but more importantly, I feel so much better – stronger, leaner, more flexible (but not faster…yet) – than I did before. I hadn’t expected any of that post-op!

I’m now able to do pull-ups and chin-ups again!

I recently got the OK to shoot hoops – as long as I wear my brace, shoot within the key, and refrain from jumping.

Logging some partial pedal rotations on my bike after having success with the bike at PT!

THINGS I HAVE NOT ENJOYED:

~The NMES machine at physical therapy. The NMES (neuromuscular electrical stimulation) device stimulates weak muscles…and let’s just say there’s a reason that saying “NMES” sounds kinda like you’re saying “enemies.” I’m told it has two settings: one is pretty bearable, and the other is much more torturous. Of course my pitiful left quad was given a steady dose of the torturous setting at PT for a handful of weeks. Basically, the torturous setting hits your poor, weak muscle with all the electrical currents in the world (the PT will ramp it up to the highest intensity level you can take), causing your muscle to contract, and while that’s happening, you also have to engage said muscle. The currents run in cycles of like 10 to 15 seconds…for 10 MINUTES. Longest 10 minutes EVER.
But I do have to say that even though I didn’t like the experience, I knew it was benefiting me, so I tried to grin and bear it. (Or at least bear it – and jokingly try to hide the NMES probes from my PT.) Before I stopped needing to use it, I even maxed out the machine’s intensity level one time! Take that, NMES!

Thanks to the NMES machine, I’m able to do hurdles now! Just kidding…this is obviously staged. But the machine has helped me get stronger and more capable!

~The Lachman test. Oooooh boy, I would gladly snuggle with the NMES machine on its highest level for like a week straight if that meant I wouldn’t have to undergo the Lachman test anymore. Basically, the Lachman test involves my doctor putting one hand on my thigh and the other on my shin and testing the ACL by moving the shin forward and backward a couple times in rapid succession. It doesn’t hurt; it just REALLY weirds me out. And even though this test literally accounts for 3 to 5 seconds of my life every two to three weeks, I am just NOT a fan. (My next doctor appointment is about a week from now, and I’m already shuddering thinking about this test.)

On my way to my most recent doctor’s appointment (during which I was to experience the Lachman), I didn’t want to put my brace on the bathroom floor, so I used the hook on the back of the door to hang it up!

~The struggle for sleep. I knew sleep could be an issue in the immediate aftermath of surgery, but I had no idea I would have this much trouble two months out! At first I thought I was struggling to sleep because of wearing the knee brace at night and needing to sleep on my back. But eventually I was able to lie on my side, I was able to go to bed without the brace, and I was far enough post-op that I thought I’d finally be able to catch some Z’s. But no, the Z’s have for the most part evaded me. At the doctor’s recommendation, I’ve tried melatonin…and guess who’s apparently stronger than melatonin? That’s right. (Insert badge of honor here.) Basically, I’m just not comfortable at night no matter what. Lying on my side hurts eventually. Lying on my back is immensely uncomfortable because my leg is too straight. Lying on my stomach can irritate my knee too if my leg is too straight/stretched – but I also don’t want to rotate it outward. I can usually fall asleep for a couple hours, but once my body decides it’s uncomfortable, it will wake me up, and usually that’s it for me for the night in terms of sleep.

Elli (left) and Sebastian using my legs as a pillow while I lie awake at night…

~Involuntary muscle spasms! Yeeeeeesh, these were not a fun experience at all in the early days after my surgery. The spasms in/around my knee started in the recovery room, where I groggily asked the nurse if that was normal. I was pretty sure it was, and she confirmed. The spasms continued that day and the next day. The day after surgery, I called the on-call doctor to ask a couple post-op questions, including about how long the spasms would continue, because they were REALLY not a fun time. He told me they’d occur for a couple of days, then he added something like, “Your brain knows something major has happened, but it can’t figure out what, so it’s trying to protect your body any way it can.”
That’s very sweet, Brain, but I have some other ideas of how to protect my body that don’t involve RANDOM, INVOLUNTARY, NEVER-ENDING SPASMS IN MY SURGICALLY REPAIRED KNEE. But thankfully, the doctor was right, and the spasms largely disappeared after a few days.

Leg up, ice machine on, knee components involuntarily spazzing…sounds like a fun time right after surgery!

THINGS I’VE ENJOYED:

~Ice/cold therapy machines. Hands down, this is my favorite part of this entire ACL experience. At one of my first PT sessions (pre-surgery), I was introduced to the Game Ready, and let me tell you, it was a Game Changer. It’s a machine that pumps ice-cold water through a tube and into a mat/pad thing that’s wrapped around the injured body part; the pad also compresses. It. Is. Phenomenal. After a couple friends recommended getting an ice/cold therapy machine (lower end) for home, I got myself the Polar Active Ice 3.0, and I have not regretted a single penny. It doesn’t compress, but the cold is incredible. I have it on right now, actually. Pure bliss!

The blue monster cat bed looks shocked at how great the machine is.

~Physical therapy. Don’t get me wrong, there are times I don’t like whatever exercise I’m told to do. Maybe it feels uncomfortable, maybe it’s tedious, maybe I don’t necessarily see the purpose. But overall, I love having guidance – especially from people who really know their stuff – to help me heal as efficiently and effectively as possible. And as an athlete, I enjoy pushing myself to be the best I can be; physical therapy is a great way to do that. (This endorsement is coming from someone who previously thought physical therapy would be a waste of time.)

Some solid range-of-motion progress after about two minutes of on-and-off stretching

~The crumb cake at the hotel I stayed at post-surgery. OH MY GOODNESS. So tasty! I’m obviously very settled in at home now, and I have been for a while, but I really miss that crumb cake. Just saying.

Enjoying crumb cake a couple hours after my surgery; you can see the post-surgery loopiness in my eyes!

~Feeling the love. Despite that friends and family (for the most part) don’t want to massage my knee scar, I have been SO blessed by the ways everyone has taken care of me! From visiting to bringing me special food to sending cards to giving me a call or shooting me a text to collecting my mail to taking my trash out to going grocery shopping with me to making me laugh – wow, I could go on and on. I couldn’t have made it this far in such good spirits without my crew. Thank you all!

My parents are my biggest supporters!

So, with all that said, it’s time to plow ahead into more complete recovery! Thus far, PT has had me focusing on the basics, like improving range of motion, getting stronger, etc. The next phase, which should launch in a week or two, will have me starting to work on more functional things. Am I nervous? Probably a little. Am I excited? I believe I am! Am I ready? All in good time! But my goal, as always, is to try to maintain a positive attitude, my sense of humor, and my trust that God’s going to work it all out. And then I just have to do my part. Let’s go!

(And now for some other scenes from the past few weeks…)

Woo! I biked a quarter-mile in 10 minutes earlier this week! Ha!

I tried to take a picture to commemorate my first walk downtown, but it actually just looks like I don’t have a right leg and that I’m holding a prosthetic…

Whether I’m doing weight shifts…

…or quad sets…

…or using the ice machine, cats want to be involved!

Mom and I enjoyed an afternoon in West Chester, where we ate delicious barbecue and also got ice cream (not pictured)!

No ACL injury will stop me from loving the best sport ever!

Ha! This is both true and ironic, since my love of sports is the reason I’m not completely healthy right now…

Baby Steps

If you have raised or are raising a child, you’ve probably said or heard something like, “The days are long, but the years are short.” But in the world of ACL reconstruction surgeries, I would like to offer the opposite phenomenon: that the days are short, but the weeks are long.

Monday marked one month since my knee surgery. The days have seemed to fly by, as I keep pretty busy with various medical appointments (with my doctor and PT), at-home exercises and recovery stuff, my almost-daily nap (needed because everything takes so much effort and I get wiped out pretty easily), a methodical return to work, and all that. However, it’s wild to think it’s only been a little over four weeks since I went under the knife! It feels, in a lot of ways, like an eternity ago.

I obviously have a long way to go before I’m swishing jumpshots on the basketball court again or running half marathons or enjoying long hikes or hitting cross-court forehands in tennis, etc., but I can’t deny that I’ve come a decently long way since my surgery, too.

So, with that in mind, this post will be dedicated to celebrating my baby steps (haha, see what I did there?) over the past four and a half weeks. They may not be huge milestones, but they are stepping stones, and if there’s one thing I’m determined to do throughout this recovery process, it’s to celebrate my progress, both the little things and the big things!

In the early days after my surgery, Mom kept track of applicable phrases from little Dove chocolates we were eating, along with other relevant encouragements. “Make time for yourself” had us laughing because, as I was lying there recovering from surgery, I definitely had no choice but to do that!

A close-up of the fortune cookie messages

The “Baby’s First” Journal

I knew I wanted to keep track of how things were going in my recovery. However, as much as I wanted to keep a full journal, I was aware that such a thing might be a tough ask, mainly due to how wiped out I’ve been each day – mentally, physically, emotionally…

One thing I had kept noticing after my surgery was how much I felt like a toddler as I started my recovery; initially I couldn’t put a sock on or tie my shoe or get into bed by myself, etc. So, as I started being able to do certain things, I would joke about how it was “baby’s first (insert task or accomplishment here).”

Slowly, the concepts of keeping a journal and noticing my “baby’s first” progress merged. Instead of keeping a full journal, I decided to keep a list of my progress and new ACL-related experiences – small and large – and I would call this list my “Baby’s First” journal, my own quirky way of tracking my recovery while also acknowledging (and, at times, poking fun at) my growing abilities and first-time experiences.

The list is pretty extensive, so I’m not going to cover every little thing here, but I will hit a handful of highlights (how’s that for alliteration?):

-July 25: Baby’s First Narcotic (Ha!!!)
Woo, that’s right! I was prescribed a couple days of oxycodone to get me through the immediate aftermath of my surgery. I was cautious, as I didn’t want to form any habits. But, thankfully, my experience was that I didn’t end up with any sort of attachment to it, and I finished my dosage and had no withdrawal symptoms.

The loopiness evident here was due to anesthesia, not oxycodone, but I still think this photo is fantastic.

-July 29: Baby’s First Night Alone
My mom had stayed with me the first few nights to make sure everything was good. But after a few nights, I had a handle on things: getting settled in bed at night (including propping my leg up and situating an ice pack), middle-of-the-night meds, and – yes – nighttime bathroom trips (which often involved using crutches while half asleep).

First night unsupervised – got myself into bed with an ice pack. Success!

July 31: Baby’s First Shoe-Tying Experience, Solo Outdoor Walk, Lunch Transportation, and Solo Hair Washing
Wow, this was a banner day! While I wasn’t yet able to change my sock (I was wearing grippy socks), I did manage to put sneakers on and tie them using one hand (because I couldn’t reach with my other hand). I put sneakers on because I wanted to take a walk outside to a nice bench where I could read. I also heated up some soup for lunch, and I devised a method to get it from the kitchen to my table (I pushed a chair from the table to the kitchen – pushing a couple feet, then crutching a bit, then pushing the chair more, then crutching more – where I heated up the food, put it on the chair, and then did the push/crutch routine back to the table). I also recognized that my hair needed some rejuvenation, so I washed it in the bathroom sink by myself since I wasn’t showering yet (I officially showered a couple days later, on August 2). Sometimes I feel like I’m not mentally tough/gritty enough, but days like this one show me I can show quite a bit of resilience and outside-the-box thinking.

I was thrilled – THRILLED – to be able to tie my own shoe.

Being able to wash my own hair opened up a whole new world of possibilities!

August 4: Baby’s First Experience Putting a Sock on, Straight Leg Raise
It wasn’t pretty, and it definitely wasn’t fast, but my first successful attempt at putting a sock on sure was memorable! It was a great moment in my journey toward increased independence.

But my most exciting moment that day was my first solo straight leg raise at PT! Shannon at PT had been working with me for a couple sessions on straight leg raises, but my quad was so weak that I wasn’t able to contribute much – well, I wasn’t able to contribute anything at first, if we’re being honest. She would literally raise/lower my leg for me as I contracted my quad to try to help. It was literally the PT equivalent of when a toddler “helps” an adult to carry something (you know what I mean: The toddler is just kind of there thinking he/she is helping, but the adult is doing all the work). But on the third day/session, she and I could tell I was contributing more. She helped me a bit with the first two sets, but when the third set rolled around, I pursed my lips and contracted my quad and saw my leg rising – without help! My mouth dropped, Shannon’s mouth dropped, and it was pretty epic. August 4 was also the first day I balanced without crutches at PT (still in the knee brace).

Honorable mention goes to figuring out how to carry my breakfast (cottage cheese in a paper bowl) from the kitchen to the table while using crutches.

August 7: Baby’s First Social Outing (Complete With Stairs/Bleachers)
Thanks to my friend Ann, who picked me up and did a great job transporting my recovering self in the back seat, I was able to catch a bit of professional women’s tennis at a local tournament. And we saw my aunt and uncle at the tournament too! Funny moment: Ann and I stopped to grab some food to take to the tournament with us; we decided it would be faster if she ran in and got it while I waited in the car. Right after she closed the car door to go get our food, she opened it right back up so she could put the windows down for me as I waited – like people do with their dogs! We got a kick out of that!

During this outing, I had to go up some bleachers/stairs for the first time. As I do things for the first time during recovery, I plan in my head how I think I’ll accomplish them; sometimes my plan works, and other times it doesn’t and I have to come up with a different plan on the fly. In this case, I had worked out in my head how I would get up into the bleachers and how I would come down. Thankfully, my plan worked pretty seamlessly this time!

My aunt (left), Ann (middle), and yours truly after watching tennis. This was also my first time walking on grass, which I did VERY carefully and which I have not done a whole lot since then for obvious reasons.

August 11: Baby’s First Ride in the Passenger Seat
After my surgery, my range of motion was so, umm, limited that I had to ride in the back seat of the car with my left leg stretched across the seat. But on this day, when Dad picked me up for PT, I told him I wanted to try sitting in the front seat since I knew my range of motion had been improving; if I couldn’t bend my leg enough yet, I would just go in the back like usual. We were THRILLED when I was able to get my leg in on the passenger side!

August 13: Baby’s First Visit Home (Lots of Stairs)
With the OK from my doctor and PT, I went back home for a quick visit with the kitties. I hadn’t been approved to actually live at home yet due to the sheer number of stairs (40) I have to conquer in order to get everywhere I need to go (the doctor was mainly concerned about my well-being if there were to be an emergency and I would need to exit quickly). But I was approved to try the stairs for a visit. It was painstaking and tiring but worth it to see some of my fur babies! It also confirmed to me that I would need to improve physically quite a bit before I’d be comfortable to go back there full time.

With Sebastian and Layne. I promise Sebastian was happy to see me…

Sebastian, the selfie master

Descending some steps

August 17: Baby’s First Church Attendance
It was SO good to be back at church! The sanctuary is upstairs, and while I could maybe have tried the stairs, I decided to take the elevator instead. We’ve had the elevator for a handful of years, but this was my first time using it. All in all, it was a good experience! And I have to add how blessed I am by the many people at church – friends, acquaintances, and others I haven’t really talked to before – who checked on me to find out how I was doing during my first Sunday back. Way to be the Body of Christ, y’all!

August 24: BABY’S FIRST STEPS!!!
At PT on August 22, they had started to wean me off the crutches, per my doctor’s orders. They had me doing weight shifts and tried to get me to walk without crutches. But my walking attempt was admittedly pathetic, as I had ZERO trust in my knee, so we pivoted to having me walk with one crutch while they coached me to put more and more weight on my left/repaired leg. That was enough of a challenge for the day! So, for my weekend homework, I was charged with continuing to practice my weight shifts and, if I felt confident, to try some single-crutch walking.

Let me tell you, the rest of that Friday and the next day were TOUGH. More mentally tough than anything. I had to dig deep to combat what my brain was telling me: that I would never be able to walk unassisted again, that I would never be able to trust my knee again, that all my recovery efforts were fruitless, etc. I mean, it got UGLY as my inner battles waged on. But I continued doing my at-home exercises, including my weight shifts. And, although I didn’t have to do single-crutch walking, I knew I needed to incorporate it into my weekend routines so I wouldn’t forget I was capable of doing it (because it feels WEIRD to put weight on a surgically repaired leg, let me tell you!). Thanks to these efforts, by Saturday night, I started to turn a corner where I felt like I was able to trust my left leg a little more during weight shifts.

Then, on Sunday night, I had done my weight shifts and was using a single crutch to walk around my room (still not at home). And suddenly, for some reason, I felt ready to lift the crutch a bit and try to take some steps, keeping the crutch right there in case I needed it for balance. And you know what? With that crutch lifted off the ground, I took one step. And then another. And then another. I was ecstatic!! I wanted nothing more than to scream for joy and cry happy tears and do a little dance, but I knew that I needed to keep my emotions in check so I could concentrate on my walking (and, to be honest, any level of dancing at this point in my recovery is just a bad idea!). I could not believe that, two days after starting to be weaned off the crutches, I was actually walking. Yes, I was/am still wearing the brace, but…BABY STEPS, am I right?

Anyway, as I walked, I kept telling myself, “Just another walk down and back in the room.” Then I would finish that down-and-back and decide to do another, and another, and just one more, and maybe one more. It was SO fun, and I was SO grateful! The next morning, I was still able to walk, and I haven’t stopped practicing and trying to improve my walking since then. (This site won’t let me post the video I took of some of my first steps, so these screenshots from the video will have to suffice…)

It’s wild how far I’ve come in about a month, and it will be wild to see how far I go in this next (large) batch of months. But one thing’s for sure: No matter how gritty I need to be and no matter how much I want to throw in the towel at times, I’m going to keep celebrating the progress. And I will never quit!

Hard to tell the changes in these photos, but here’s how my range of motion has improved lately!

Check out that bruising and that lumpy calf from a couple weeks ago!

After saying goodbye to my stitches earlier in August

Hamstring stretches!

Just some leg differences – the left one looks a bit lumpy these days.

My nephew trying out my (resized) crutches

Naptime!

Temporarily sans brace

So glad to have my wonderful family in my corner!

I love this quote that was posted at PT last week. Good reminder, even if it’s hard to believe sometimes!

Out With the Old and In With the New

A little over a week ago, on July 25, I sadly had to evict a longtime tenant. This was one of those tenants who had been a longtime resident, a no-frills, reliable, workhorse type of guy. One you can easily take for granted when he’s behaving as he should.

Yes, yes – this tenant was the ACL in my left knee. It took me through about 37.5 really good, really athletic years before it decided to throw a wild, destructive party in my knee by tearing itself back in February. (As you can read here, it took a few months for me to get it checked and a little longer to get a reliable-ish result.)

So I had almost no choice but to evict it (via ACL reconstruction surgery), especially as I felt the lingering effects of said party: not being able to run or jump or play basketball or any sport, etc.

As I neared the date of my surgery, I in a sense received some applications to move into the spot in my left knee that was about to be vacated. Let’s review, shall we?
-Applicant #1: cadaver ACL
-Applicant #2: my quad tendon
-Applicant #3: my patellar tendon

Without going into detail (both for the sake of not boring you to tears and for the benefit of more medically sensitive readers), my doctor and I focused on the two internal applicants (#2 and #3) before ultimately selecting Applicant #3 (my patellar tendon) as my doctor felt it would make the best possible new lifelong tenant, given my age and activity level. My patellar tendon, from what I can tell, was/is more than deserving of its new home and of its new crucial tenant responsibilities. (Get it? It’s functioning as my new ACL – anterior cruciate ligament! Ha. Ha. Ha.)

But now a quick – or maybe not-so-quick? – rundown on the surgical experience. Obviously, I wasn’t awake for the actual procedure, so this will be more about the before-and-after components of it.

The ACL eviction process (surgery) was scheduled for July 25. The surgery center called me the day before and told me to report by 9:15 a.m. on the day of the procedure. That timing was perfect: not too early (so I could still get a decent night of sleep and have some prep time in the morning) but not too late (which would have meant I’d spend a chunk of the day twiddling my thumbs and thinking about the impending surgery). Plus, since I wasn’t supposed to eat or drink anything after midnight, the morning surgery time meant that I would be much less hungry than if I had to go all day without eating or drinking due to an afternoon surgery time.

I slept pretty normally the night before. I can honestly say that, other than a couple very quick, very minor, nearly imperceptible butterflies in my stomach on the way to surgery, I wasn’t nervous at all. I knew surgery was a necessary part of this next season of my life, especially if I wanted to (eventually) have confidence to do anything athletic again. I also knew that, even though ACL reconstruction is a BIG deal, it’s also a pretty common thing in the world of knee specialists and physical therapists, so my medical team was/is more than equipped to help me get back to where I want and need to be.

So I woke up feeling pretty good the morning of July 25, all things considered. I took a mile walk outside and even convinced myself to jog (very slowly/pathetically) for three very short spurts (literally 15-20 feet each time) so I could technically get one last run in before months – MONTHS – of not being able to do so.

Enjoying my last pre-surgery walk

Since I’d chosen to stay at a hotel for the initial part of my recovery (I have too many steps and too many affectionate, often-all-over-me cats at home – a good problem to have), I ducked into the hotel’s breakfast area after my walk and grabbed a piece of an incredible-looking crumb cake to save for later, when I was allowed to eat.

Mom and Dad arrived around 8:30 a.m., and I showed them how to use my ice therapy cooler in case I wouldn’t be able to explain it well after surgery. Again, I felt so calm.

We left for the surgery center around 8:45 a.m. and got there with no issues in plenty of time. I had been told to bring my knee brace and crutches with me, so Mom and Dad helped me carry them into the surgery center as I signed all the forms the receptionist gave me. Then Mom, Dad, and I relaxed in the waiting room and joked around until a nurse called me back.

Honestly – and this might sound weird – I’ve really enjoyed all the banter with the medical personnel over the last few months. From my physical therapist and her crew to my doctor, the nurses, the anesthesiologist, and the receptionists, it’s primarily been a good time. Legitimately!

The pre-surgery prep nurse (or whatever her official role is – sorry, Beth!) was fantastic. She was kind and reassuring, and she and I swapped stories about past medical experiences. I saw my doctor, who signed my injured knee (he later joked that his “autograph” would stay there for at least a year) before heading off to do another procedure before mine.

Eventually, Beth brought my parents back when I was sufficiently prepped so we could hang out; while they were there, the anesthesiologist stopped by to go over some procedural stuff and explain what he was going to do and how it would help and how long the effects would last afterward. Good deal.

Dad making me crack up before surgery

“Let’s do this.”

Then, before I knew it, I was saying goodbye to my parents and being whisked away down the hall to the operating room. I may or may not have joked about whether the gurney could do wheelies. (I honestly don’t remember if I said this or if I just thought about saying it.)

Into the OR I went. Again, I felt completely calm. The team put a blanket and an oxygen mask on me and told me to breathe deeply. The last thing I remember someone saying to me was about how the anesthesia was about to kick in soon. And the last thing I remember saying to someone? “See you on the flip side!”

Then NOTHING.

Text updates my mom received

When I eventually came to, I was lying in the recovery area and I was SO groggy. My left knee hurt, but I couldn’t see it, because my lower extremities were covered by a blanket.

The nearby nurse saw I was coming to, and she asked me if I wanted something to drink. I must have vaguely nodded, because she listed my options.

“Gngrrrayllll,” I slurred, and she brought me a can of ginger ale with a straw, which she held in front of me as I tried in the most uncoordinated fashion to get the straw into my mouth. At last I was successful, and I took a few slurps before leaning my head back onto my pillow.

She then asked me if I wanted a snack, which I declined. She inquired about my pain level, to which I responded, “Likafiiiiiiivorazixxxx” (like a five or a six). Apparently that was enough to warrant the offer of an oxycodone, which I said I would like. “I don’t like to give meds on an empty stomach,” she said gently, “so you would have to have a snack.” When I nodded that this was OK, she gave me my options.

“Cheeeeezitzzzzz,” I slurred again, and she placed an opened bag of the tasty crackers on my table. I had no clue how I was going to convince my uncooperative arms and hands to maneuver the treats from the bag on the table into my equally uncooperative mouth, but I had to try. Somehow, I grabbed like three Cheez-Its and shoved them toward my mouth; I followed this with three more Cheez-Its. This was sufficient enough to pave the way for oxycodone, which I soon swallowed with the help of more ginger ale.

At some point the nurse confirmed that my ACL had in fact been torn and that it had been reconstructed (welcome to your new home, patellar tendon!). She told me my meniscus and all the other parts of my knee were fine. Thankfully!

“Do you want me to bring your parents back?” the nurse asked.

“Nnnnnot yetttttt,” I said, then I heard myself say, “They’ll stealllll my crackerzzzzzzz.”

The nurse laughed and was like, “OK, we’ll wait.”

At one point I asked her if I was going to remember any of this, and she said that most people don’t. I was really hoping I would – and it seems I do remember a lot of it – because the whole experience was surreal. I was aware of what I was doing and saying, but I didn’t feel as if I had control over it. For example:

I really wanted to drink more ginger ale (because it is so underratedly tasty), but I didn’t want to drink so much that I would desperately have to go to the bathroom. At one point, I asked the nurse (in a voice that was probably louder than I thought it was), “CAN I PEE HERE OR DO I HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL I GO HOME?” She told me she would take me to the bathroom before I left. Woohoo.

At last, I told the nurse it was OK to bring my parents back. She asked me their names, and I promptly blanked. “Uhhhmmm, Larry and Donna?” I said with more of a questioning tone than I probably should have had, considering that they literally raised me. She left and came back with them momentarily.

The first thing I said to them was “Doooo youuu wannnt any crackerzzzz?” (Probably because my groggy brain figured it would be better to offer my Cheez-Its to the potential food thieves (my parents) than to have them steal the tasty snack themselves.)

They both declined, but I heard my mom say to my dad, “I’m writing that down.” Ha!

They asked if I already knew the outcome of the surgery – ACL torn/repaired, meniscus and everything else fine. I said I did. They had met with my doctor as my procedure was wrapping up (when his assistant was doing the final touch-ups on me, like sutures and putting my brace on), and he told them, “Everything went great! I couldn’t have asked for it to go better. … Very clean work.” Then, toward the end of his meeting with them (I think), he said, “Gotta get her back on the basketball court!” Agreed.

Some of my first (somewhat) conscious moments with my new ACL

One addition to the surgical team was Creeper Duck (bottom left of the photo, displaying the butter knife he allegedly used to help with the procedure).

It felt like I was in the recovery area for 30 minutes, maybe 45, from the time I woke up, through the snack and beverage portion, through the chats with my parents, through Mom helping me get back into my regular clothes, to the time we left. But I woke up before 1:50 p.m., and we didn’t head out to the car until about 4 p.m. So I have no clue how to account for the entire two-plus hours that I was apparently in recovery! Maybe a bunch of stuff did happen that I don’t remember after all…

As promised, the nurse wheeled me to the bathroom while Mom and Dad went to get the car. I’d preplanned how I would get into the car after surgery, and, although some of my post-surgery ideas have not panned out, this particular one did, and I was able to shimmy myself into the backseat of my parents’ car with little difficulty. Let’s just say that process may have felt a little easier because the anesthesia, oxycodone, and whatever else I was on were doing their very best work. For amusing evidence, I present to you this photo my mom took of me before we left the surgery center, in which I was probably loopier than I’ve ever been in my life:

Absolutely hilarious. While I arguably knew what was going on, I also very much did not have a clue what was going on. Ha!

I remember asking Mom if I should sit up or smile more, etc., if she wanted to take a different picture, and she said, “Nope, this one is PERFECT. You look exactly like you feel.” (When I saw the photo later, I cracked up because she was SO correct!)

Arriving back at my home away from home, while groggily using crutches for real for the first time, with Dad right there to make sure I wouldn’t fall. (And no, my left leg isn’t on the ground, but it does kind of look like it is.)

The rest of that day feels like a blur. Same with the next few. I slept a lot (it’s like I have a malfunctioning on/off power switch), learned my limits (don’t crutch around too much too soon), experienced a ton of frustrations (why am I having trouble getting into my bed today when I didn’t yesterday?), celebrated small victories (first sponge bath, woohoo!), and found a ton of reasons to be thankful (too many to list here).

Now that I’m eight days post-eviction of my lifelong ACL tenant and eight days into the new guy’s (hopefully lifelong) lease, I’m progressing slowly but surely, which I’m told is the name of the game for ACL reconstruction/recovery. I’m in it for the long haul, y’all. Baby steps, both figuratively and literally. Many more frustrations and many more victories to come until I’m officially back in the game, but rest assured that I will get back in the game. And until then, my goal is to grow stronger in patience, gratitude, and optimism as I also grow stronger physically.

Welcome to your new home, patellar-tendon-turned-ACL. I hope you like it here.

Dad got me flowers!

Chatting with my sister on the phone while I was still incredibly loopy, which she found absolutely hilarious

Finally enjoying that crumb cake from breakfast – yes, while still loopy! (The eyes. It’s always in the eyes!)

When you have major knee surgery but it’s also National Hot Fudge Sundae Day, of course you celebrate!

Enjoying a meal with the parents the day after surgery

The fake “I’m in pain” photo we sent to Dad at one point…

…vs. the real photo we sent him immediately after, showing that I was really feeling pretty much fine (two enthusiastic thumbs up!), thanks in large part to effective pain meds

Enjoying a livestream of church on Sunday morning – of course, I was very drowsy and was admittedly in and out of consciousness for a lot of it. But it was a good sermon from what I recall!

I played Oregon Trail (thanks to a random internet site) and named the wagon party members after parts of the knee. The only one not to make it to Oregon was Meniscus, who died of typhoid.

Dad helping me with my left shoe and sock prior to one of my follow-up appointments

My wrapped leg, sans brace, at one of my appointments

First look at the knee (on Monday at physical therapy)

Second look at the knee (on Tuesday at my follow-up appointment with my doctor)

How I’m traveling these days (until my range of motion improves) – sprawled out in the backseat of the car!

First night unsupervised (Tuesday night, I think?) – got myself into bed with my knee propped up and an ice pack wrapped around it. Success!

One exciting first: tying my left shoe! I couldn’t change my sock – still can’t – but tying the shoe was a great first step!

Another first: first solo hair-washing attempt!

First post-surgery shower: I first had to wrap my knee/bandage with plastic wrap to keep it dry. (Shameless product placement…)

First shower was a success! So, so good.