Look. It's not my first rodeo. You know this. I know this. My surgeon knows this. It is, in fact, why I'm quite sure the sympathetic looks of my friends of 3+ years are that much more dramatic. It's a small town. News travels quickly, and the number of people who have stopped me on the street and simply said, "Oh. I heard," with a mix of relief (for themselves of course - certainly no one offered to trade places) and pain dripping off their faces is astronomical! I mean. I totally feel cared about and all that ooey gooey stuff, but nobody died here. You heard because I updated my status on facebook and am clearly limping with the utmost disgrace. Yes, I have been here before. Blessing or a curse? Time will tell. But for now I will give my candid opinion.
The pros: I've gotten through this. Here I am, world! Witty, cunning, and totally important to the few permanent prospects of my inner circle. ACL dissection did not leave me in a heap of heartbreak and failure (for any substantial period of time at least). So, yes. Knowing that I've done it before is all the more reason to hold my head up, shake my fist at the bastard ligaments that once held each of my knees together and give it the old college try once again. Side note: I feel like my ACLs are on the same page. They're like, if at first you don't succeed, try, try again. Soccer didn't keep us out of the fire? Let's try an ill-fitted surgeon. Oh! Football - Perfect. Do not let this has-been athlete keep us from severing and hell - let's take the meniscus with us this time. OK. Done with that. Other pros include my mother's homemade brisket. (Mom, that is the only subtle hint I will give regarding food choices), time off of work (give or take), a DVR loaded with endless Real Housewives of the world's classiest zip codes, and, of course, all the money I save! No need for new running shoes, copious tanks of gasoline, and entry fees into soccerkickballfootball games/tournaments/etc. They say you go into debt after surgery - ha! Clearly they've been doing it wrong! I've been investing in the ACL business since 2011, and I tell you my friends - it is lucrative. I am filthy rich in braces, medical knowledge, and reckless abandon. Joke's on you.
So now that we know all of the super detailed aspects of how positive this experience will be for me simply because I've gone through it before, let me warp your mind into something else. In May of 2011, I signed up for one of those Tough Mudder races (yes - only weeks before I would meet the first fate of my destructible knees). I ended up doing it all by myself because my friend had gotten injured just before (insert cruel irony joke here). The race was whatever. I climbed a lot of stupid ski slopes and carried large firewood for no reason and wore a space blanket because it was imperative I plunged into the filthiest, coldest water imaginable (see photo above). Wonder how those races are doing with this drought going on. Hm. Anyway, the big finale of the race is running through this huge swamp of dangling electrical wires. Wait. Read that again. Yes. The event so classically titled "Tough Mudder" finds it compelling to throw competitors (of an un-timed race, mind you) into seething volts of electricity. AFTER you've finished the entire race. But FTW! Let's be animals and do it! I totally did it. And with grit and determination, too. I had never run through electrical wires before. Have you? I've also never been knocked out on my blindside, but I'm pretty sure the feelings are exactly the same. I ended up with a mouthful of mud water and army crawled my way through the end of those snaky wires cursing the craze that just was a mind-numbing shock. My friend (oh wait I was by myself). Ya, no one cared. But I'll tell you what. I'd prefer to NEVER run through that mess again. I now am cursed with knowing that feeling, and I will carry wood and run up ski slopes until I'm blue in the face, but I will NOT run 15 yards through those monsters ever again.
Why am I telling you this story? Time for an attitude shift. I'm drawing an analogy between ACL surgery and shock-wave wires, people. I'm not sure which one I'd rather choose, but remembering the pain of those first few post-op days and the struggle to prevail on in normal life inebriated by a cocktail of anesthesia and pain meds is daunting, to say the least. I remember going through the motions of considering peeing my bed because it was THAT painful to walk myself to the bathroom (I didn't, for you sick-minded that care that much). I whimpered through the first 2 nights and was ready to mine for blood by the 3rd day of un-washed hair (another shout out to my brilliant mother who bathed my hair as if I was 2 years old). Basically, it sucked. I know I got through it, but I also know what it felt like. So sitting on my thumbs and swimming laps and loading up my DVR the past 2 weeks has NOT distracted me from the inevitable future that will be my tough first few days after the operation. There. I got it out of my system. I'm totally complaining, and I don't even feel bad about it. I'm an adult, and it sucks to be an adult who struggles to get socks on in the morning - go ahead. Find an outfit that you like with a 4-inch wide locked-out brace running down the length of your leg. That doesn't involve standing, sitting, squatting, or bending over. Cool. That's what I thought.
You know what? While I'm complaining, let me just say this. I ALSO know what my knee (read: ACL) was capable of before any of them were torn. Most recently, I became famed and flourished through cruise-ship Dancing With the Stars. That's right. I'm legit. I cha-cha-ed with stilettos on, and I got a completely meaningless perfect score. So there. Blessing and a curse. I know I won't be able to pursue my fate as a ballroom dancer for some serious time. But alas, I also know that I can hip-roll my way across a stage with 2 surgeries under my belt. What's one more? The inevitable is just that. Inevitable.
Why am I telling you this story? Time for an attitude shift. I'm drawing an analogy between ACL surgery and shock-wave wires, people. I'm not sure which one I'd rather choose, but remembering the pain of those first few post-op days and the struggle to prevail on in normal life inebriated by a cocktail of anesthesia and pain meds is daunting, to say the least. I remember going through the motions of considering peeing my bed because it was THAT painful to walk myself to the bathroom (I didn't, for you sick-minded that care that much). I whimpered through the first 2 nights and was ready to mine for blood by the 3rd day of un-washed hair (another shout out to my brilliant mother who bathed my hair as if I was 2 years old). Basically, it sucked. I know I got through it, but I also know what it felt like. So sitting on my thumbs and swimming laps and loading up my DVR the past 2 weeks has NOT distracted me from the inevitable future that will be my tough first few days after the operation. There. I got it out of my system. I'm totally complaining, and I don't even feel bad about it. I'm an adult, and it sucks to be an adult who struggles to get socks on in the morning - go ahead. Find an outfit that you like with a 4-inch wide locked-out brace running down the length of your leg. That doesn't involve standing, sitting, squatting, or bending over. Cool. That's what I thought.
You know what? While I'm complaining, let me just say this. I ALSO know what my knee (read: ACL) was capable of before any of them were torn. Most recently, I became famed and flourished through cruise-ship Dancing With the Stars. That's right. I'm legit. I cha-cha-ed with stilettos on, and I got a completely meaningless perfect score. So there. Blessing and a curse. I know I won't be able to pursue my fate as a ballroom dancer for some serious time. But alas, I also know that I can hip-roll my way across a stage with 2 surgeries under my belt. What's one more? The inevitable is just that. Inevitable.