give or take a few because life tends to not be set in stone, I'll be waking up in a recovery room ready to start an incredible new journey towards a healthier life.
I can hardly wait.
I know that there are some people out there (not my friends and family, of course, but some) that think having weight loss surgery is a cop out...an easy way out.
Well, it's not. It's scary and it requires a ton of commitment to be successful.
I've been struggling with my weight on and off since my kids were born. That's over TWO DECADES of battling this crap with every diet and exercise plan out there. I had moderate amounts of success and maintained a relatively healthy weight until shortly before I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. Since then, it's been a one step forward two steps back process.
Weight loss surgery is a tool. I'm not trying to justify my decision (except maybe a bit to myself). I've made that. I'm just trying to explain it to those who might not understand. There are LOTS of tools available for weight loss.
Quick Weight Loss Centers
Jenny Craig
Nutrisystem
Weight Watchers
Medifast
My Fit Foods
Personal trainers
Gym Memberships
Exercise DVDs
Two aisles in the book store filled with different diets - low carb/high protein - low fat - high fat/high fiber - blood type - body shape type...and so on and so on
Diet pills (prescription and OTC)
Meal replacement shakes and bars
I could go on and on. I have tried nearly ALL of these different "tools" with the exception of a couple newer diets that have hit the shelves recently. I have always been successful for a time then, for various reasons, the success comes to a grinding halt. For me it's usually due to an illness or injury from overtraining because I love to exercise...but, as my orthopedic surgeon says, "fat people shouldn't do jumping jacks."
I've been in the hospital more times than I can count with slipped or herniated discs. I just had surgery to repair one and with my weight where it is, I'm looking at another surgery down the road. I have torn the meniscus in my left knee TWICE. I'm looking at a total knee replacement in the future if I'm not careful. My podiatrist describes the ligaments in my left ankle as "over-pulled taffy." One more injury to my ankle means surgery and replacement of my ligaments with cadaver ligaments and a minimum of a 8 week - non weight bearing recovery. Every time I have one of these setbacks, I lose all the ground I'd gained and then some. This list could go on and on too.
So, I've decided to try another tool.
I read a book recently - The Sleeved Life - by Penny Nicola She describes this surgery as a tool like any other. She mentions our use of washing machines vs. banging our clothes on rocks in a river...of driving cars instead of hooking up a horse and buggy...and so forth.
I like her analogies.
This surgery is an amazing tool. Many, many, many people have been incredibly successful with it when everything else failed them. Check google images for before and after pictures and you'll see what I mean.
I intend to be one of them.
Showing posts with label knee injury. Show all posts
Showing posts with label knee injury. Show all posts
Saturday, June 21, 2014
Thursday, May 29, 2014
In about 30 minutes...
I have to get in the shower and get ready to head down to the medical center. Today is my pre-op appointment. My surgery has been approved by my insurance company and now I just need to find out when they can do it and see how that coordinates with my family's schedule.
I'm glad my husband is going to be able to come to this appointment with me. He'll remember to ask all the questions that I've forgotten.
I don't know whether to be anxious or excited about the beginning of this new journey. I think I'm a little bit of both.
I was back and forth on my decision a bit until last Friday. I'm still in physical therapy from my back surgery and my knees have been a little tweaky, so we're working on those too. On Friday, we did several sets of walking lunges and in the middle of the second set, I felt something in my left knee go, "POP!" It hurt then...it hurt more later. By Saturday, it was hugely swollen and very painful. I went to my knee doctor's office on Tuesday and got a couple more shots. He knows about (and APPLAUDS!) my decision to get sleeved. He's letting me hold off on an MRI and such for my knee until that happens. Hopefully, I'll evade knee surgery this one last time and will lose enough weight with the sleeve that I won't be at risk for it any longer.
That "POP!" was the last straw.
I'm doing this.
My ass better start packing.
I'm glad my husband is going to be able to come to this appointment with me. He'll remember to ask all the questions that I've forgotten.
I don't know whether to be anxious or excited about the beginning of this new journey. I think I'm a little bit of both.
I was back and forth on my decision a bit until last Friday. I'm still in physical therapy from my back surgery and my knees have been a little tweaky, so we're working on those too. On Friday, we did several sets of walking lunges and in the middle of the second set, I felt something in my left knee go, "POP!" It hurt then...it hurt more later. By Saturday, it was hugely swollen and very painful. I went to my knee doctor's office on Tuesday and got a couple more shots. He knows about (and APPLAUDS!) my decision to get sleeved. He's letting me hold off on an MRI and such for my knee until that happens. Hopefully, I'll evade knee surgery this one last time and will lose enough weight with the sleeve that I won't be at risk for it any longer.
That "POP!" was the last straw.
I'm doing this.
My ass better start packing.
Friday, June 18, 2010
My oldest...
baby just turned SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD!!!!! We've been through some rocky patches over the years, but all-in-all, I'm very blessed. Both of my boys have turned out great so far. Is it my doing? Well, I'm certainly going to take a little bit of credit for being an enormous nag...maybe I can blame the fact that I HAVE to nag them on my ex-husband. He did contribute half their genetics. I have to counteract that somehow.
It's crazy though. I'm not quite 40. It's looming...dark and scary...like a storm front on the horizon...I have just over 9 months before I get there. That is just over 9 months to take my saggy, tired, feeble, flabby, not quite 40 but feels like 60, FAT body and transform it into something that feels like it did before I had kids and looks like Demi Moore's from that stupid movie where she pretended to be a Navy Seal. There isn't a Navy Seal on the face of the planet that couldn't kick Demi Moore's ass from here to next Sunday, but MY GOD...why would she care with abs like those??
They do it on the Biggest Loser. My seventeen year old son pulled off a similar transformation (if you leave out the age issues) in LESS time. I've read countless magazine articles about other people that do it. I've read countless other blogs about people that do it. I've seen pictures at my gym of people that have done it. I've sat through episodes of Celebrity Fit Camp and watched has-been 'celebrity' after has-been 'celebrity' do it. I've seen people way bigger than me Dance Their Ass clean off.
What does all this mean? Well, not too long ago I came to my breaking point. I wrote about it back then. It was DECISION TIME....TIME TO DO SOMETHING!! Well, the something I started out to do didn't work out on my first at bat. To continue with the baseball analogy...I got nailed in the head by a wild pitch and benched for the rest of the season. It sucked. It was discouraging. I went from a very high high to a very low low. Part of me...a really big part...probably my ass...wanted to give up. That part of me wanted to sit in my recliner eating ice cream, gummy bears, buttery popcorn, chicken wings, pizza, jalapeno potato chips, etc.,etc., etc. That part of me wanted to sit in that damn chair WATCHING other people live their lives.
You know what, though? I DECIDED not to listen to the part of me (my ass??) that wanted to give up. I've been jumping through hoops of fire for the past few months trying to rehabilitate my knee. Three surgeons, two MRIs, enough x-rays to make me glow in the dark, weeks of physical therapy, enough Advil to cause permanent liver damage, two braces, a walker, crutches, lots of missed work, lots of missed baseball games, lots of missed life = DEFINITIVELY NO KNEE SURGERY!!!!!
No knee surgery = Naomi back on track to launch WWIII on her ass
It really doesn't get any better...or more simple than that.
It's crazy though. I'm not quite 40. It's looming...dark and scary...like a storm front on the horizon...I have just over 9 months before I get there. That is just over 9 months to take my saggy, tired, feeble, flabby, not quite 40 but feels like 60, FAT body and transform it into something that feels like it did before I had kids and looks like Demi Moore's from that stupid movie where she pretended to be a Navy Seal. There isn't a Navy Seal on the face of the planet that couldn't kick Demi Moore's ass from here to next Sunday, but MY GOD...why would she care with abs like those??
They do it on the Biggest Loser. My seventeen year old son pulled off a similar transformation (if you leave out the age issues) in LESS time. I've read countless magazine articles about other people that do it. I've read countless other blogs about people that do it. I've seen pictures at my gym of people that have done it. I've sat through episodes of Celebrity Fit Camp and watched has-been 'celebrity' after has-been 'celebrity' do it. I've seen people way bigger than me Dance Their Ass clean off.
What does all this mean? Well, not too long ago I came to my breaking point. I wrote about it back then. It was DECISION TIME....TIME TO DO SOMETHING!! Well, the something I started out to do didn't work out on my first at bat. To continue with the baseball analogy...I got nailed in the head by a wild pitch and benched for the rest of the season. It sucked. It was discouraging. I went from a very high high to a very low low. Part of me...a really big part...probably my ass...wanted to give up. That part of me wanted to sit in my recliner eating ice cream, gummy bears, buttery popcorn, chicken wings, pizza, jalapeno potato chips, etc.,etc., etc. That part of me wanted to sit in that damn chair WATCHING other people live their lives.
You know what, though? I DECIDED not to listen to the part of me (my ass??) that wanted to give up. I've been jumping through hoops of fire for the past few months trying to rehabilitate my knee. Three surgeons, two MRIs, enough x-rays to make me glow in the dark, weeks of physical therapy, enough Advil to cause permanent liver damage, two braces, a walker, crutches, lots of missed work, lots of missed baseball games, lots of missed life = DEFINITIVELY NO KNEE SURGERY!!!!!
No knee surgery = Naomi back on track to launch WWIII on her ass
It really doesn't get any better...or more simple than that.
Monday, May 10, 2010
THREE'S the CHARM!!
After countless visits to my G.P., two different orthopedic surgeons, and even a middle of the night trip to the emergency room, I have finally found a doctor that's given me a plan of action for my bum knee that MAKES SENSE!! I am sooo happy!
Here's what we did today:
*More x-rays...These determined that the tibial plateau stress fracture (Don't I sound smart? It's amazing what you can learn without ever bothering to go to medical school!) has healed completely. This means that the pain I'm still feeling and the symptoms I'm having...like my knee refusing to work at random times...are being caused entirely by the meniscus tear.
*A real live actual exam...compare THIS to doctor #2 who NEVER touched me during TWO office visits!
*Another giant needle full of cortisone and a second injection of some sort of white goopy stuff that I've never seen before. I meant to ask what it was and forgot. For all I know, it could have been octopus semen or something...maybe it's better I don't know.
And this is the plan:
*He's sending me to physical therapy...twice a week for the next six weeks.
*On days off from physical therapy, he wants me to ride a bike or swim. I'm poolless (not a word but should be) at the moment, so the bike it is.
*If my current level of pain gets worse or doesn't get better, I should come back to see him right away because then I'll need surgery after all.
HOWEVER, he's expecting things to improve rapidly and, unlike doctor #1 (who was 95% certain I needed surgery,) doesn't think I'll need to go under the knife! Yippee!
I'm looking forward to starting physical therapy on Monday...and wishing I had a pool.
Ass, what do you say you and I go check out the temporary memberships at the YMCA tomorrow so we can swim laps through the little kid tinkle?
Here's what we did today:
*More x-rays...These determined that the tibial plateau stress fracture (Don't I sound smart? It's amazing what you can learn without ever bothering to go to medical school!) has healed completely. This means that the pain I'm still feeling and the symptoms I'm having...like my knee refusing to work at random times...are being caused entirely by the meniscus tear.
*A real live actual exam...compare THIS to doctor #2 who NEVER touched me during TWO office visits!
*Another giant needle full of cortisone and a second injection of some sort of white goopy stuff that I've never seen before. I meant to ask what it was and forgot. For all I know, it could have been octopus semen or something...maybe it's better I don't know.
And this is the plan:
*He's sending me to physical therapy...twice a week for the next six weeks.
*On days off from physical therapy, he wants me to ride a bike or swim. I'm poolless (not a word but should be) at the moment, so the bike it is.
*If my current level of pain gets worse or doesn't get better, I should come back to see him right away because then I'll need surgery after all.
HOWEVER, he's expecting things to improve rapidly and, unlike doctor #1 (who was 95% certain I needed surgery,) doesn't think I'll need to go under the knife! Yippee!
I'm looking forward to starting physical therapy on Monday...and wishing I had a pool.
Ass, what do you say you and I go check out the temporary memberships at the YMCA tomorrow so we can swim laps through the little kid tinkle?
Thursday, April 22, 2010
One more...
weekend of hobbling around on crutches!! Maybe. I have an appointment with the orthopedic surgeon on Monday morning to find out if I'm allowed to walk like a normal person again. What I'm hoping NOT to hear is that I'm going to need knee surgery. That would suck. Yes, that would suck a lot.
I did some math this morning. Since I came home from fat camp, I've been losing an average of just over 3/4 of a pound per week. Not too shabby, eh? I know I'd be losing more if I was working out, but I'll take it...or leave it as the case may be.
I also know that I would be losing more if I were better at managing my stress levels. I'm slowly but surely trying to learn not to use food to self-medicate for stress. I've read all the suggestions: take a walk, take a bath, call a friend, read a book, etc. Sometimes, however, I just have such a crappy day that it seems like nothing but a plate of fried chicken with a side of macaroni and cheese chased with a giant bowl of ice cream will do the trick.
What gets me there more often than not? Probably having a teenager in the house...constantly stomping around and glaring at me because, of course, they know everything there is to know about everything and I'm a total and complete idiot. That'll screw with your cortisol levels!
Funniest thing about my stomping and storming teenager...little does he know that if he would only stop his tirades for a moment he'd find out that he's quite an inspiration to me. I've never met anyone with more willpower than him. Granted, he has some very interesting ideas about health and nutrition...but whatever he chooses to put into play, he does...completely and wholeheartedly. It's amazing. He's lost over 50 pounds since the beginning of the school year...eating primarily yogurt, lunch meat, and grilled chicken salads from McDonalds. If that's not will power, I don't know what is.
I'm keeping my fingers crossed and my prayers prayed that I'll get a clean bill of health on Monday. My stress levels are through the roof. I've actually started clenching my jaw so tight that it's starting to hurt. I'm not the only one, either; my husband was diagnosed with TMJ earlier today. So, what's my plan? Well, I'm going to keep doing what I've been doing...regardless the stomping. Hopefully, I'll get to start working out soon. I don't want to reduce stress with food...maybe a kickboxing class is in order. Somehow, punching things seems like a good idea.
I did some math this morning. Since I came home from fat camp, I've been losing an average of just over 3/4 of a pound per week. Not too shabby, eh? I know I'd be losing more if I was working out, but I'll take it...or leave it as the case may be.
I also know that I would be losing more if I were better at managing my stress levels. I'm slowly but surely trying to learn not to use food to self-medicate for stress. I've read all the suggestions: take a walk, take a bath, call a friend, read a book, etc. Sometimes, however, I just have such a crappy day that it seems like nothing but a plate of fried chicken with a side of macaroni and cheese chased with a giant bowl of ice cream will do the trick.
What gets me there more often than not? Probably having a teenager in the house...constantly stomping around and glaring at me because, of course, they know everything there is to know about everything and I'm a total and complete idiot. That'll screw with your cortisol levels!
Funniest thing about my stomping and storming teenager...little does he know that if he would only stop his tirades for a moment he'd find out that he's quite an inspiration to me. I've never met anyone with more willpower than him. Granted, he has some very interesting ideas about health and nutrition...but whatever he chooses to put into play, he does...completely and wholeheartedly. It's amazing. He's lost over 50 pounds since the beginning of the school year...eating primarily yogurt, lunch meat, and grilled chicken salads from McDonalds. If that's not will power, I don't know what is.
I'm keeping my fingers crossed and my prayers prayed that I'll get a clean bill of health on Monday. My stress levels are through the roof. I've actually started clenching my jaw so tight that it's starting to hurt. I'm not the only one, either; my husband was diagnosed with TMJ earlier today. So, what's my plan? Well, I'm going to keep doing what I've been doing...regardless the stomping. Hopefully, I'll get to start working out soon. I don't want to reduce stress with food...maybe a kickboxing class is in order. Somehow, punching things seems like a good idea.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
I'm conflicted about this too...
I can't figure out if I should take what the new surgeon told me as good news or crappy news.
Normally, I wouldn't feel the need to get a second opinion but under this particular set of circumstances I did. When I came back from fat camp with my left leg all boogered up, I knew I needed to get into the doctor post haste. I was also fighting another nasty upper resperatory infection, so my first stop was my G.P.'s office. They put me on antibiotics for the URI and gave me a shot of cortisone in my knee and told me to stay off of it for a few days and see if it got better. If it didn't get better, I was supposed to either go back to see them or get an appointment with our local sports medicine place.
I chose to go to the sports medicine place. I've spent a lot of time there in the past. Sometimes I've really got to wonder why the hell I'm such a friggin' klutz?!!! It would be nice to get through a whole year without spraining something or straining something or dislocating something or breaking something!
Anyhow, the two doctors that I've seen in the past at the sports medicine place didn't have any appointments available for weeks so I took an appointment with a new doctor. The new doctor did x-rays...didn't see anything but had a couple guesses. He sent me for an MRI. His guesses were right. Like I've mentioned (I'm quite certain way more times than you're all interested in hearing, but like I said from the get-go, this blog is mostly for me...so tough it up!)...I have a stress fracture in my left tibia and a torn medial meniscus. This doctor gave me a brace to wear...told me not to walk more than necessary and gave me two choices: a) wait for the fracture to heal and see if the pain goes away or b) get the arthroscopic surgery for the meniscus now (he said there was a 90% chance I'd need it) and rehab from everything all at once.
I wasn't sure what to think about those choices. I also really wasn't sure what to think about the fact that this particular doctor was GIDDY about the healthcare bill getting signed in. I think it's a travesty and am seriously considering a move to Cuba or something (if I'm going to be a communist I might as well go hard core!)...he was GIDDY! It creeped me out. None of my other doctors are happy about it. Some have retired...others are considering it. Did I say this guy was GIDDY?? Creepy. Creepy. Creepy. So...I decided I needed to see another doctor. If I do need surgery, there's no way I'm letting Dr. Giddy Pants near me with a scalpel!
Both my endocrynologist (one of the doctors who will probably retire and/or move with me to Cuba if the government starts telling him how to practice medicine) and my mother-in-law gave me the name of another doctor. This guy only does knees. Apparently, he does the knees for most of our local major sports teams and whatnot. He's supposedly a "knee guru" or whatever you'd call the best of the best of the best of knee doctors. I was surprised to be able to get an appointment with him within a few days of my first call.
The appointment was for yesterday at 3 p.m. My husband drove me to the medical center. I'm still popping Vicodin like M&Ms and driving isn't such a good idea. We showed up at the office at 2:45. I filled out my forms. (You know, if the government wanted to do something SMART to fix healthcare, they'd standardize all the stupid forms and give people something they could do at home and bring with them. That would save a ton of time and money for everyone.) After filling out my forms, I checked in with the insurance girl. She told me that because we have good private insurance (enjoy it while it lasts, right?!) we'd have no payment that day. Then we waited...and waited...and waited...and waited...and waited...and waited...and waited....and waited. I finally got called back at about a quarter till 5....me and 3 or 4 other people that had also been waiting forever.
The nurse took my MRI CD/DVD and paperwork and stuck me in an exam room...to wait...and wait and wait and wait some more. When Dr. Guru came in, he did pretty much exactly nothing for about a minute and a half. He told me not to wear the brace the other doctor had told me to wear. He told me to use the crutches the other doctor had told me I didn't need to use. He told me not to put any weight on my leg...at all. And he told me to come back to see him in four weeks.
Pardon my language, my more sensitive readers, but WHAT THE FUCK?
So, now I've got two totally conflicting sets of protocol about what to do. I don't trust the first doctor at all, but I didn't get to spend enough time with the second doctor to even guess at whether or not I should trust him. I DO trust my endocrynologist...and my mother-in-law...and all the reviews....but still! It would have been nice to have had the time to get my questions answered.
What do I do? How the hell am I supposed to get around without putting any weight on my left leg for four weeks? My right knee and ankle were messed up long before any of this happened and 5 minutes on crutches had them screaming bloody murder at me. I've been using a walker I borrowed from my Mom (leftover from her hip replacement surgery - looking cool, eh?) and while it's a fantastic upper body workout I'm a little afraid I'm going to kill myself or one of our dogs trying to negotiate around the obstacles in our home...not to mention that I'm already getting blisters on my hands.
Good God I sound like a whiny, obnoxious, little titty baby, don't I?
On a lighter note...Dr. Guru did say I could swim. If I had access to a pool, I'd be in it right now!! If fat camp did nothing else for me, it did seem to reignite the "I love to exercise!" flame I used to have burning all the time when I was younger...and healthier...and my ass wasn't so enormous.
Normally, I wouldn't feel the need to get a second opinion but under this particular set of circumstances I did. When I came back from fat camp with my left leg all boogered up, I knew I needed to get into the doctor post haste. I was also fighting another nasty upper resperatory infection, so my first stop was my G.P.'s office. They put me on antibiotics for the URI and gave me a shot of cortisone in my knee and told me to stay off of it for a few days and see if it got better. If it didn't get better, I was supposed to either go back to see them or get an appointment with our local sports medicine place.
I chose to go to the sports medicine place. I've spent a lot of time there in the past. Sometimes I've really got to wonder why the hell I'm such a friggin' klutz?!!! It would be nice to get through a whole year without spraining something or straining something or dislocating something or breaking something!
Anyhow, the two doctors that I've seen in the past at the sports medicine place didn't have any appointments available for weeks so I took an appointment with a new doctor. The new doctor did x-rays...didn't see anything but had a couple guesses. He sent me for an MRI. His guesses were right. Like I've mentioned (I'm quite certain way more times than you're all interested in hearing, but like I said from the get-go, this blog is mostly for me...so tough it up!)...I have a stress fracture in my left tibia and a torn medial meniscus. This doctor gave me a brace to wear...told me not to walk more than necessary and gave me two choices: a) wait for the fracture to heal and see if the pain goes away or b) get the arthroscopic surgery for the meniscus now (he said there was a 90% chance I'd need it) and rehab from everything all at once.
I wasn't sure what to think about those choices. I also really wasn't sure what to think about the fact that this particular doctor was GIDDY about the healthcare bill getting signed in. I think it's a travesty and am seriously considering a move to Cuba or something (if I'm going to be a communist I might as well go hard core!)...he was GIDDY! It creeped me out. None of my other doctors are happy about it. Some have retired...others are considering it. Did I say this guy was GIDDY?? Creepy. Creepy. Creepy. So...I decided I needed to see another doctor. If I do need surgery, there's no way I'm letting Dr. Giddy Pants near me with a scalpel!
Both my endocrynologist (one of the doctors who will probably retire and/or move with me to Cuba if the government starts telling him how to practice medicine) and my mother-in-law gave me the name of another doctor. This guy only does knees. Apparently, he does the knees for most of our local major sports teams and whatnot. He's supposedly a "knee guru" or whatever you'd call the best of the best of the best of knee doctors. I was surprised to be able to get an appointment with him within a few days of my first call.
The appointment was for yesterday at 3 p.m. My husband drove me to the medical center. I'm still popping Vicodin like M&Ms and driving isn't such a good idea. We showed up at the office at 2:45. I filled out my forms. (You know, if the government wanted to do something SMART to fix healthcare, they'd standardize all the stupid forms and give people something they could do at home and bring with them. That would save a ton of time and money for everyone.) After filling out my forms, I checked in with the insurance girl. She told me that because we have good private insurance (enjoy it while it lasts, right?!) we'd have no payment that day. Then we waited...and waited...and waited...and waited...and waited...and waited...and waited....and waited. I finally got called back at about a quarter till 5....me and 3 or 4 other people that had also been waiting forever.
The nurse took my MRI CD/DVD and paperwork and stuck me in an exam room...to wait...and wait and wait and wait some more. When Dr. Guru came in, he did pretty much exactly nothing for about a minute and a half. He told me not to wear the brace the other doctor had told me to wear. He told me to use the crutches the other doctor had told me I didn't need to use. He told me not to put any weight on my leg...at all. And he told me to come back to see him in four weeks.
Pardon my language, my more sensitive readers, but WHAT THE FUCK?
So, now I've got two totally conflicting sets of protocol about what to do. I don't trust the first doctor at all, but I didn't get to spend enough time with the second doctor to even guess at whether or not I should trust him. I DO trust my endocrynologist...and my mother-in-law...and all the reviews....but still! It would have been nice to have had the time to get my questions answered.
What do I do? How the hell am I supposed to get around without putting any weight on my left leg for four weeks? My right knee and ankle were messed up long before any of this happened and 5 minutes on crutches had them screaming bloody murder at me. I've been using a walker I borrowed from my Mom (leftover from her hip replacement surgery - looking cool, eh?) and while it's a fantastic upper body workout I'm a little afraid I'm going to kill myself or one of our dogs trying to negotiate around the obstacles in our home...not to mention that I'm already getting blisters on my hands.
Good God I sound like a whiny, obnoxious, little titty baby, don't I?
On a lighter note...Dr. Guru did say I could swim. If I had access to a pool, I'd be in it right now!! If fat camp did nothing else for me, it did seem to reignite the "I love to exercise!" flame I used to have burning all the time when I was younger...and healthier...and my ass wasn't so enormous.
Monday, March 15, 2010
One step forward...
and I don't know how many excruciatingly painful, very slow, limping steps back. Whatever I did to my knee in Utah has gone from bad to worse. I think that the steroid shot my G.P. gave me in it on Saturday morning must have helped with the pain just enough for me to move around way more than was smart. I tweaked it again today just by shifting my weight in my chair a bit and the ramifications almost brought me to tears. I have a fairly high pain tolerance, so I'm afraid this is going to be bad news. I'm going to the orthapeadic surgeon/sports medicine doctor early Wednesday morning. Keep your fingers crossed for me that he doesn't need to do surgery to fix whatever's broken. My healing rate from prior surgeries hasn't been so hot...they tell me it's going to be one night in the hospital and I end up having to stay for a couple of weeks. Rest...Ice...Compression...Elevation...(RICE)...and lots of Advil (although right now if someone offered me something stronger, I wouldn't say,"no.") Surgery is bad....physical therapy is good. Thankfully, I like to swim.
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