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

This summer is going to be chock-full of “this happened exactly one year ago” with regard to my knee. And while I can actually go a day or two without thinking about it at all at this point(!), my knee and my new normal is still a huge part of my life.  So this popped up on my Facebook memories today. This was the day I went to see Dr. Z, and asked him to tell me what the arthrogram showed.  For a perspective on the timeline of things: *I had the arthrogram done on Thursday.  *I completed a half Ironman on Sunday.  *I got the results of the arthrogram emailed to me on Monday.  *I also has my graduation ceremony for my MSN on Monday.  *My husband had his ceremony for his PhD on Tuesday.  *I saw Dr. Z on Wednesday for the results.  That was a ridiculously huge week for me last year! So when I got the results by email, I didn’t know exactly what they meant. It sounded more complicated than my hope of a simple “meniscus tear.” Still the only part that really concerned me was that it sounde

Exactly one year ago today...I completed my first Half Ironman. I struggled through rough waters and blazing heat but I raced smart and finished strong.   I very clearly remember being SO proud of myself, and honestly, that is not a feeling I have very often. Sure I do things that I am happy with and I recognize my own accomplishments, but this was raw, bursting at the seams, pride. In myself. More so than any other race I’ve done.  It took a lot of balls  nerve to do this, and I did it (mostly) without even flinching. I also did it all by myself. I knew no one there. I had no one there. I drove to Maryland by myself, checked in for the race (only my second ever triathlon and my first Ironman event), stayed in a nasty scary motel, and then got up and showed up to the start line (if you don’t get yourself to the start, you have no chance of getting to the finish). I was also so proud of how I raced, how smart I stayed through it all to make sure I didn’t crumble under the 95 degree heat

I’ve written and re-written this post three times now. I can’t seem to say what I want to say. So let me try again.  I don’t have any kind of personal affinity for Kate Spade or Anthony Bourdain. I don’t own anything she designed and I never watched his show. That being said, I am feeling devastated by the news of their deaths this week.  Just days apart.  It can be easy to forget how prevalent death by suicide is. But there are so many people we don’t know about. There was even a student at my son’s school this year. And then when two well-known people fall victim to the disease that consumed their brain, their body, their whole being, it’s all anyone can talk about. And then we remember how pervasive suicide is.  Suicide is real.  Too real.  And we need to remember that there are so many people who live with depression and anxiety who do not die from it, but struggle in a real way. People like me. High functioning, ambitious, successful...mental illness does not discriminate. Suicide

Yesterday was my 7 months post-op mark.  Theoretically (according to Dr. Z anyway) I have 11 months left until my knee is “as good as it’s going to get.” Considering how good it feels right now, and adding another 11 months of healing and strengthening, I’m excited to see how great it will feel by the 18 month mark!  I’m sure that the progress will soon start to be micro-improvements and may be barely detectable. That already seems to be the case many days (weeks), suddenly I’m 7 months post-op and feeling really great! I have gone a few days in a row lately without thinking about my knee. Imagine that! So June 2nd happened.  My 40th birthday. I didn’t spontaneously combust.  I met my goal of being able to do a pull-up.  I also rode 40 (43 actually) miles on my bike. I also went grocery shopping and folded laundry.  I took my boys to an Eagles event. I went to dinner with my guys.  I went to bed early (for me).  I will have drinks with some friends next weekend. I wanted nothing more y