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

I should be taking a nap.  I promised myself I would nap each day this week.  I swore I would work on my sleep hygiene (that is a really hideous term) now that I started back to work.  But I can’t sleep and I feel really good.  So as much as this blog helps me vent my woes, I want to document the great days too.  The funny thing about this whole no running/surgery/rehab process is that the smallest most insignificant details can either make me happy as can be, or completely take the wind out of my sails.  Today was a happy as can be kind of day. I went to PT expecting more of the same... *how far can you flex passively (100 degrees is the answer...2 weeks ahead of schedule)? *straight leg raises face up, face down, and side lying *watching me crutch with 20lbs of weight bearing on the L leg *what’s your pain level?  *any heel height differential on extension? ...looks good, see you next week.  And I got that all, and Marty got to the part where he was going to say see you next week and

It’s been more than 3 weeks since my surgery and I’m gearing up to head back to work on Monday. Aside from the emotional struggles, I’d say the physical side of this situation has been better than expected. It helps to be young(ish) and in shape(ish) ahead of time, but also it helps that I’m determined to do what I can, regardless of the crutches. For better or worse, that’s my personality and being independent is a huge part of what makes me, me.  I’ve had to slow down. Obviously. Falling would be the worst thing (I’ve been reminded of this many times by the medical team), so I have to remind myself to think about what I’m planning on doing before I do it. But there is very little I haven’t been able to do while non-weight bearing.  I grocery shopped alone once. This was humorous and I was planning to try and crutch and push a real cart but that really was not working. So the store had scooters and I used one! For a bigger trip, I took one of my kids who pushed the cart whil

On Thanksgiving, it’s somewhat expected that we reflect on what we are thankful for. Right?  I feel like I’ve been reflecting on what I’m thankful for, a lot lately, as I’ve been receiving so much help and support. So here’s my “what I’m thankful for” list in no particular order: My boys. Eternally thankful that I get to be their mom. They challenge me and inspire me and keep me moving forward...more days than not.  Alex.  Thankful for his partnership and companionship, love and encouragement. It is not always easy, nor is it always fun, but it is always worth it! My village.  I am thankful for the people in my life who step in and act as my village. The hands have evolved and changed over time...different family, friends, neighbors, and even strangers. There is always someone there to help, and for that I so grateful.  My therapist.  I am thankful to have found a therapist who has helped me understand, trust, love, and have pride in myself. I’ve grown in ways I never expected, and hav

Ok.  I gave myself a week of feeling like mental poop.  I didn’t want to.  But fighting it, trying to smile and be all self-supportive, just made me cry more.  I felt it coming...it started when my PT said to keep doing what I’m doing, and I was sad because there was no forward movement (really Sara??). And the next day my doctor told me everything looks great and to come back in a month, and I cried because a month felt like forever (no, really Sara??).  So I could tell this was coming.  I HATE feeling like that. I HATE being that person. But fighting it literally does me no good.  It’s fun to say, “I’m riding the struggle bus” and people can imagine some goofy run-down bus with no one in control, driving around erratically... It’s humorous, but it sucks. And I hate the feeling. And I hate giving in to the feeling. My biggest fear is that it won’t stop, the mental slump, the “I hate everyone and everything” feeling. In my mind I feel like, ‘ok, I’m on meds, I see a therapist regularly

In more ways than one, I feel like my mental/emotional self is finally catching up to the idea that this is going to be a long recovery. My first several days post-op were somewhat disorienting as I felt significant improvement every 24 hours. In my mind, I felt like “if I keep this up, I’ll be feeling 100% in no time at all.”  Magical thinking, maybe.  Necessary thinking to get me past the first week, probably.  I’m just one day past the 2 week mark (POD15) at this point. There is no longer obvious daily improvement, which is ok, and there have been no setbacks, which is amazing.  Ever since my post-op appointment, I’ve had a hard time with the idea that my next “milestone” is a month away, at my next post-op appointment. I reached out to Lisa (the amazing PA working with Dr. Z) yesterday, because I was struggling mentally. I asked her for some clarification about the protocol which pointed to some changes starting at the 4 week post-op mark. Yes, in fact there are changes that come a

If POD5 had been the most exciting day so far in this process (I showered for the first time, bandages came off, got out of the house to vote), then POD13 (today) was the next most exciting day!  The anticipation of today was almost too much to take. Today was my first post-op appointment!  I don’t remember anything Dr. Z had to say while I was in recovery, and I felt pretty shitty when he called me in the hospital, so today was the “look at how far I’ve come, and what do I get to do now” appointment. It was also the “take these nasty stitches out” visit! I had nervous butterflies in my stomach and got to my appointment 45 minutes early. I brought shorts to change into for the exam and had my binder of instructions with me just in case I got some fun new instructions to add. I am admittedly a total dork, and am far too prepared for shit like this. Dr. Z finds it wildly amusing, Lisa (the PA) gives me a knowing nod because she would do exactly the same thing, I’m sure of it.  Dr. Z came

POD 11 This was the first morning since before surgery that I had to do the “morning routine” alone. Husband leaves for work at the crack of dawn M,T, and Th...so I was on my own today. I woke up earlier than usual, because everything takes longer to accomplish.... I haven’t quite figured out how much longer...it doesn’t seem to be a uniform percentage...but it’s longer for sure... And when I wake up, it takes several minutes to wake up enough to use crutches. There’s no jumping out of bed and crutching away...I really have to wait until I’m feeling steady on my feet  foot.  So I woke up immediately feeling overwhelmed and irritated by the fact that simple things (like the morning school routine) now feel like enormous tasks. I know, boo-hoo, I’m totally whining. But I’ve kept a positive attitude 98% of the past 11 days, so let me whine. It all went fine this morning, I even made Aaron a homemade waffle which he’s been deprived of  going without the last several days. How it is that my

I am feeling worlds better than I expected to feel at this point. And it’s a huge relief.  I’ve read about some pretty bad struggles after a meniscus transplant, and it was hard to find ANY accounts of having all 3 surgeries (meniscus, ACL and MACI) done at once...so I expected the worst. Dr. Z prepared me for the worst. But I’m really grateful for how well it has gone so far! Technical Knee Stuff *I am focused on properly maintaining my non-weight bearing status. It’s hard, especially since I don’t have much pain. There’s little to remind me that I shouldn’t put my foot down. I don’t wear a shoe on my left foot. That’s helpful. The few times my foot has rested on the ground, there’s a pins and needles kind of sensation that I feel. That certainly reminds me to pick my foot up! *I am trying to figure out how to make progress and rest and recover all at once. On POD10, I’m at 85 degrees flexion, and I’m making sure to work on my extension as well. Although it looks (like in the picture

This week has been a doozy. I knew it would be, but you can only be so prepared and then you just have to wait and see what reality brings... Thursday morning last week, I walked to the hospital for my surgery. I wanted/needed to walk there.  I’m glad it was beautiful weather.  There were a lot of runners out, and I kept thinking how perfect the weather was for running.  I listened to the song ‘Walk’ by the Foo Fighters. This song means a million things to me. It’s representative of me recovering from an eating disorder, it’s me thriving despite living with anxiety and depression, it’s me putting in the hard work to advance my education/career, and it’s me literally learning to walk again after this knee surgery.    Pennsylvania Hospital is so beautiful. I’m really grateful to work there and to have been a patient there. This is my knee before they took me to pre-op. Scarred already from previous surgeries, and relatively busted on the inside. I’m grateful for the miles this knee gave