Moving Forward...life before, during and after a meniscus transplant

This blog is about to become all about recovery from surgery, rehab, pain control, and getting back to walking because, while this blog has many purposes (therapeutic venting, information sharing, thoughts on topics others might find interesting...), I also want it to be a resource for others who have the same/similar combination of surgeries I am about to have.  So I thought, before it gets all surgical, I would back up to the beginning...well my “being a runner” beginning.  I wrote a post a while back (my first I think) about the day my running ended. I included a sad picture of me. I ugly cried on that run. It was hard to believe that something that was such a huge part of my life and identity, was over. But how did it start?  What started this obsession  passion? If it’s not a question you had, you can stop reading now.  Anyone still reading? Anyone? Ok, so I think I’ve got running on my brain because we are experiencing the perfect running weather right now, and fall running/racin

One week to go.  I feel like it has been forever that I’ve been waiting to move past this surgery, and at the same time I don’t want it to be this close already.  In truth I am ready, in terms of practical life stuff.  The house has groceries, the ironing is all done, the warm weather/cold weather clothing swap has happened, the house is scrubbed, the dogs are bathed and groomed, the kids’ flu shots have been given, the beds have clean sheets on them, my recovery area is set up, the car got an oil change and has a full gas tank, my work details are sorted out, the plan for getting my kids to and fro is in place, the hospital overnight bag is packed, the first physical therapy appointment is booked, the post-op brace has been fitted to my leg.... I’m probably forgetting something, but I really tried to get as much done as I could. Maybe being immobile will be easier knowing this is all done. And maybe focusing on all of this has helped me not dwell on my non-runner status. And perhaps h

I wasn’t really sure how to choose a Jewish name for myself. My given name, Sara, is very Jewish already but I wanted a different name that would mark this moment in my life.  I asked the Rabbi a year ago to tell me how people normally choose a name.  “Google Jewish names.” Sure. Ok. But how else? “Choose a name based on someone you admire or a Jewish woman in history that you feel connected to.” Hmmm. Ok. But I don’t know many of the historical stories yet.  “Whatever you choose, make sure the name equates to bad-ass and strong!” Geeze. That’s a lot of pressure! I tried to google names and it felt so very strange. I thought about the women I knew in Jewish history and I decided I didn’t want a typical name like Rebecca or Lea or Ruth or Rachel. So I stopped trying to find a name and hoped I would hear a name organically and that it would be The One .  And that is exactly how it happened!  The (at the time) senior Rabbi was teaching a Torah interpretation class as part of the Intro to

This week is one of those times where things are very much the same, and yet everything is different somehow.  My emotions have been intense and relatively unrelenting. And while I did everything I could do to prepare myself, I was not prepared for how this experience would make me feel.  Choosing to convert to Judaism doesn’t seem strange, or out of the realm of typical, for someone like me...I married a Jewish man, I am raising Jewish kids, we are living a Jewish life... In fact many people thought I was Jewish... “Wait, what do you mean convert?  I thought you already were!” For many reasons, however, I decided almost 2 years ago that I want to BE Jewish not just act it. I’m not going to go into the specifics of why, but just know that this is something that I wanted for me, and it was a very introspective and personal process.  I honestly thought I was born without the DNA that allows a person to be spiritual. Turns out I had it all along, I just needed to find the right time and p

This is  was hanging on the wall in our downstairs room. It's a playroom, sports room, guest room type of room...a catch-all for things that don't go anywhere else in our house.  I saw this race-shrine (not sure what else to call it) on an almost daily basis and it made me happy, proud, excited, nostalgic. Not every race gave a medal, but I loved hanging another medal and race bib on it. I know there are some runners who take issue with the "everyone gets a medal" mindset, and they wouldn't think of displaying those medals, but I was the kind of runner that liked my medals. I'll own that.   Surprisingly, not much has made me "angry" about my former-runner status. My running shoes, my running clothes, my running friends, even running emails...no angry feelings. But my race-shrine has been different. I'm not sure why but it makes me angry to see it. I'm not even sure if angry  is the appropriate name for the feeling. Disappointed, sad, distress

The first time I encountered a cadaver was in nursing school. We had a gross anatomy lab and dissected a full cadaver to learn some hands-on lessons about the human body. The body was of an elderly woman and I remember thinking it was incredible that someone donated their body just so I could learn. Beyond organ donation (which I knew about), it never really occurred to me that people donated body parts for reasons other than learning purposes (like cadaver lab). I didn't know that bones and ligaments and heart valves and veins and skin can be frozen and used to help improve the quality of life of the living. It certainly never occurred to me that I might ever have cadaver parts sewn into me.  For my first ACL surgery (7 years ago), I had cadaver tendons used to replace my torn anterior cruciate ligament. I'm somewhat  embarrassed to say that I didn't think much of it. I wanted my knee fixed and the "donated tissue" being used to fix it wasn't even

Fall racing season was my favorite season.  You spend all summer slogging through the heat, hoping that pushing your miles in the nasty hot humidity will make you SO fast once the weather breaks. Then you have your first 50 degree morning run and you literally feel like you are flying! Yeah, fall running was awesome. I'm not going to lie, Facebook has been hard to handle some days. Most people are distance training for one marathon or another. There are posted stats of the 15, 18, 20 mile runs and I CANNOT imagine running that far!  I know I've done it, too many times to count, but holy shit that seems so far!!!  And why are they smiling after???  Doesn't everything hurt??? Then I look at pictures of me, like the one above after I ran a 50 mile trail race last year, and sure enough I look happy as can be. And I was.  But now I feel very far removed from even being able to comprehend how someone just goes out and runs 20 miles on a random Saturday morning