It's All on a Knee(d)-to-Know Basis

Meeting the surgeon for the first time was nerve wracking. He went on a 10-minute tangent about how he has a knee surgeon friend who opted to not get ACL surgery and that it is an option to live without one. He told me that I would have to give up tennis and volleyball because they are pivot sports. I was super interested in the non-surgical option. I told him that I would be interested in just going to PT to get my normal gait back. I think he may have forgotten who he was talking to, because after talking for a bit, he pulled up my MRI and then backtracked everything he had just recommended. "Oh wait. You have a torn medial meniscus; no, you have to have surgery to get that fixed. While I'm in there I can just fix the ACL as well." He also told me that have mal tracking in my left kneecap. Apparently, my body leans to the left and my kneecap had been pushing toward the left side of my knee. 

I got my surgery scheduled and fell into the ACL Reddit and read hundreds of articles about ACL surgery and repairs. I have had two family members die under anesthesia, so I hyper fixated on all the possible complications related to surgery. Thankfully, it was scheduled a month out, so I didn't have too much time to worry. Haha. Wait, that's a freaking lie. I was freaking out every minute or every day. I even had nightmares about the surgery. I took little comfort from the fact that this is one of the most common surgeries preformed. 

My surgery was scheduled for 12pm on May 11th. I woke up at 6am determined to be super productive before going in. I got my car washed and vacuumed, bought extra pillows, new sheets, a few pairs of shorts, a bunch of snacks I saw recommended on ACL Reddit, a ton of peas and an ice pack, picked up my prescriptions, and took a super long shower. I may have also written an official Last Will and Testament.... I was pretty sure something terrible was going to happen, so I made sure to itemize all my stuff and listed all the people who could have it. 

You better WERK that open back gown. 

Grippy sock gang.

Stef drove me to the hospital, and we were super slap happy. We kept laughing and cracking jokes. I am fairly certain the nurses either thought we were delightful or absolutely ridiculous. Stef kept reminding me that the only things separating us from the nurses was a flimsy curtain. But that didn't stop us from cracking up at every little thing. 

I am so glad Stef was there because I was really nervous. I was told to completely strip, so I told her to not look as I was undressing. BUT she didn't look away and then accused me of flashing her. Like??? Ma'am I told you to look away. I wore my favorite rainbow unicorn's riding in a convertible socks, but they made me wear grippy socks. I almost cried when I had to give a pee sample, but I hadn't had water in 24 hours and couldn't get a lot of pee out. Then I had a photoshoot in my surgery garb. The surgeon came in and told me that he decided to use a cadaver graft for my ACL. He explained how the surgery was going to go. I awkwardly revealed that I had stalked his professional history, because I mentioned serving my mission in Vegas, where he worked before coming to Logan. 

I told the anesthesiologist about the family history with anesthesia. He said that sometimes there's a genetic factor that can cause a bad reaction. So instead of gas they used a different kind of anesthesia. I hobbled from my original bed to a room with a ton of lights and they hooked me up to a few machines, and then I faded out of consciousness. I woke up because a nurse was saying my name. I sat up and looked out the window, then to the other patients around me. There was another lady that they kept trying to get her to wake up. The nurse said that people don't usually wake up as alert as I was. 

Post surgery wheelchair ride. Wheeeeee.

Post surgery selfie. We had to wait 30 minutes to make sure everything was okay. Stefanee looks thrilled to be here.

There was a confusion about the dosage for one of my medications, so the nurses asked me to wait until that got figured out. One of the drugs I was prescribed was Oxycodone. The constipation that is associated with the drug is no freaking joke. After a few days, I was literally in tears telling my mom that I hadn't pooped in 4 days. I even ate a beef taco from Taco Bell trying to illicit some bodily response (I am allergic to beef), but not even that worked. Thankfully the Monday after surgery I was able to poop. I was STRESSED about it. 

Anyway, the hospital staff were so sweet; they gave me chicken soup to take home! One of the nurses wheeled me out to the car and helped me figure out how to get in. Stef drove me home and then it was time for the biggest challenge. I'm talking about the Mount Everest-esque issue of getting up the stairs to get into the house. 

I got on the crutches and walked to the stairs. I quickly realized that there was no way I was coordinated enough to complete the task. If I tried to use the crutches up the 6 steps, I would surely die. So in the name of self-preservation, I sat on the steps, cried, and then slowly made my way up the steps on my butt. Unfortunately, I didn't think this plan all the way through because I got to the top step and couldn't figure out how to get up. Tears streaming down my face, I considered my options. Option 1: Ask the fam to set up an air mattress on the porch and just stay out there until my knee healed. Option 2: Have someone lift me. Since both of those options were outside the realm of possibility, I decided to roll to my right side. My dad and Stef offered to help me up, but I told them not to touch me. Crying, I used the wall to steady myself, and miraculously got up. 

Was this whole situation embarrassing? Yes, yes it was. What could have made it worse? Hmmm, maybe an audience? The property owners happened to be outside when this whole scene played out... *sigh*