When I told my friends what I was doing, eyebrows raised. "Both at the same time? You might want to rethink that." By then it was too late.. I was already committed. But let's begin at the beginning.
Last summer I developed a pinch in my right knee. The left hurt too, but the right one really pinched and seemed kinda tight. By October I knew something was really wrong, so I made an appointment with my doctor who ordered x-rays. At about 9:00 at night I got a call from her, "Your knees are a real mess. You need an MRI on the right knee, and you need to see an orthopedist." I went to the orthopedist, who will remain unnamed, armed with x-rays and an MRI on the right knee. "Osteoarthritis -- no more taking long walks", he declared, then gave me two choices. "We can give you exercises to strengthen the muscles, or we can give you a shot of cortisone in the joint." I hesitated for, I swear, less than two seconds when this incredibly important and super ultra busy orthopedist declared, "Since you are indecisive, I will make the decision for you. We will shoot you with cortisone." And so he did. It was incredibly painful and it worked... for two weeks.
By November, things were getting pretty bad again and the ski season was approaching. I just learned to downhill ski. Last year, while skiing in Vail, I had realized that if I moved down the hill in smooth linked turns, I would not do cartwheels down the mountain at 150 mph. Hubby and I were going to Breckenridge in early March, so I took the second choice on my own. In my state there is a law whereby anyone can get physical therapy without a prescription for a certain period of time. So this time, armed with my MRI, I contacted my favorite PT center and scheduled an appointment. After making me walk up and down stairs a couple of times, and then taping my knee (which, by the way, helped immediately) the therapist told me that he scarred fascia of my right knee no longer had the flexibility it used to, and had caused my patella to move off track.. The cure was something called myofascial release. By sticking her thumb into the fascia and making me move (SCREAM), my pt could break up the scar tissue. Then quad exercises would cause the fascia to heal in a more normal uniform manner. It did work. In fact, it worked through the ski season. Breckenridge in March, with her sweet seductive rollers, teased me off of the greens and onto the blues, and I felt NO pain. By April, I was hurting again. A few more weeks of PT and it seemed like maybe I was back on track. Maybe I'd gotten lazy with the exercises.... I started biking once a week to further strengthen the quads. I got an elliptical machine and worked out a little more.
In June, both knees started to pinch and ache. This time my left knee seemed more troublesome than the right. But both were periodically swelling. During a weekend visit to a friend's house in the mountains, I experienced so much pain that I couldn't walk without limping. After talking to friends in both my ski club and my canoe club, (and on the advice of Hubby), I came home and made an appointment with 3Bs orthopedics in Philly. My doctor looked at my x-rays and said "Your right patella is not tracking properly, your left knee probably needs some cleaning up". He listened to me, asked questions, did not rush me, answered my questions, and I was put on his surgery schedule. I was to have my miniscus cleaned up and the articular cartilage smoothed out on the left knee, and I was to have a lateral release of the tight tissue on the right to allow my patella to move back in track.
7:00 pm August 11 - I feed my pond fish, count them, and take in a good look at the lilies and lotus which are blossoming. It will be a few days before I can get outside to them again.
9:30 pm August 11th - my surgeon calls to say hello, asks how I am doing, and if I have any other questions. Since I was at that point hyperventilating from anxiety, this call was a wonderful and welcome touch. He was so reassuring that I hardly gave the morning to come a second thought before drifting to sleep.
5:00 am August 12 - the alarm goes off and by 6:00 we have arrived at Pennsylvania Hospital for a day surgery. After check in I am given a gown and socks. Then I am taken up to the surgical waiting area, and my hubby goes to the waiting room. At 7:00 I am hooked up to an IV (I opted for general instead of epidural). The surgeon comes through, asks how I'm doing, and draws on my knees. I wait, and wait, and wait, and despite the fact that I have had nothing to eat or drink for over 12 hours, I have to pee. I am unhooked from IV and led to the rest room.
8:30 am - I am wheeled into surgery. The next thing I know I am in recovery. I'm aware of an ache in both knees. It is now 10:30. They tell me I was in surgery for one hour.
At 11:30 they take me to a room where I will stay until I am released. My hubby joins me. We wait and wait and wait. At 1:00 the nurse comes in to tell me that I can leave as soon as I pee. I do, right away, and prepare to go home. Later a nurse friend tells me that it's good I had general rather than an epidural or I might still be at the hospital trying to pee!
2:00 pm - I am wheeled in a wheel chair to my waiting car with a pair of crutches to hobble around on at home.
3:00 pm - I am home with a full bottle of Vicodin. I take two and fall asleep. I am in and out of sleep on the living room couch all afternoon and evening. My daughter shows up with a bouquet of beautiful flowers. Another bouquet arrives from friends by courier to my door. I get a phone call from a friend, and an email from another. I fall back to sleep for the night, except for a couple of LONG and agonizing treks to the restroom -- just 20 feet down the hall. It takes so long that by the time I arrive, my need has become a "true emergency". I giggle to myself, thinking of the doctor's voice prompts.. "If this is a true emergency, hang up and dial 911..."
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