2nd Verse, Same as the First...

Six months ago, on a night VERY much like tonight, I wrote in this blog about how I was feeling the night before my surgery.

If you want a refresher, here it is: Link

Amazingly, some of my thoughts that night are the same heading into surgery numero dos. I want to just walk like a normal person again, and I know it's going to be a journey just to do THAT...

So tonight I'm over at my folks - figured it would be easier to just leave from here rather than rushing around in the morning.

It was an odd day today... I had the time AND ability to actually plan for what I'm about to go through. I did my laundry, I took care of some bills, and I picked up my house (readying it for my return).

One difference this time around is my parents knowledge - remember, last time they didn't know as they were out of the country. Tonight my Mom made dinner (pork roast!), we talked about our questions SHE will be asking the doctor, and Joel made wisecracks... typical night. Ha!

Oh, and for those that know Joel, he has already said that:

Texas is going to destroy Baylor this weekend.
Texas is unstoppable, and their defense is going to kill my Baylor QB.
Baylor shouldn't be in the Big 12.
Texas fans will completely take over the Baylor stadium.
His new proposed conference would have Baylor, TCU, Houston, SMU, Tulane, and Rice.

(Can you see me sitting on the couch stewing? Steam coming out of my ears?)

We watched V (I made them... even though they were totally lost) on their "original" HD TV. OK, if anything happens and there comes a time when my friends and family are deciding what to do with my TV, I make this my last will and testament that no matter what, my parents should get my television. I'm serious! Theirs is so bad - it's square and is full screen, which deforms the people on the screen that you start looking at it cross-eyed! And don't get me started about the sound quality...

Since they went to bed, I have already shaved and showered. Why? Well, creature of habit - that's what I did last time... although last time I was "showering" by washing my hair in Chandra's kitchen sink (with her helping prop me up while I balanced on one leg) and "washing" myself down with baby wipes.

Thank you to those who have reached out to me tonight - calls, emails, texts, etc. It means a lot...

I've already spoken with "Dr. Gasser," and I'll be able to eat/drink until midnight tonight. No personal medications tomorrow, though - my regular meds might cause problems.

Anyway, not much left to do. Time to kick the tires and light the fires... Am I nervous? Anxious? Scared? Hmmm... I'm intent. Focused. Ready to get this over with. Yeah, I'm sure I'll have visions tonight of the surgery tomorrow, but whatever pain I go through shouldn't be nearly as bad as what I've already experienced.

I've been there... done that... and now it's time to get on with the business of gettin' better.

See you on the flip side!

My Doctor Made the List...

I was in the grocery store last night, and decided to go over to the magazine section - figured I needed something to read in the next few days.

Well, I noticed "D Magazine's Top Doctors for 2009" issue was out... and I got curious.

Sure enough, my surgeon is in there... so that's a good sign going into tomorrow. Whew! (That's not his picture by the way...)

Speaking of tomorrow, it's almost 24 hours away. Am I ready? Do I know what to expect? Nervous? All of the above???

Here's what I know...

Tonight the anaesthesiologist will call me around dinnertime to ask me any final questions he has before the surgery. I will not eat or drink anything after 9 PM.

The surgery is scheduled for 9:30 AM at Medical City Dallas. We'll get there between 7:30 and 8:00. At that time, I'll be in a little room in Day Surgery on my gurney dressed in my hospital gown (awesome). I can wear shorts through the surgery, though, so that's good.

Close to 9, they'll wheel me into a larger room. There is a nurses station in the middle, but all of the patients expecting surgery will be in their "stalls." I can still have someone with me at this point. They'll hook up my IV - Dr. Rutherford or his assistant will come get me.

Next, the excitement begins. They'll wheel me into the operating room where I'll see a bunch of "masked" men and women. Last time they told me to think of a place I'd rather be at that exact moment - which I remember briefly thinking of "a beach" and then it was Night-Night City for yours truly.

They'll put a breathing tube down my throat, apply a turnicate to my upper thigh (to slow down the blood flow to the leg), and then start the operation. I've been told it will take about an hour, and then they'll remove the breathing tube.

I'll then be moved to the Recovery Room, which is a large room with a bunch of other patients hooked up to a bunch of machines. They'll start to wake me up, and then ask me a bunch of questions that I should know the answer to (name, age, etc.). They'll also ask me my pain level.

If my pain is 5 or above, they'll start to give me a bunch of meds to bring it down. Last time it took them 2 different doses before it came down from a "high 8." I think they are looking for something in the 4 or below range...

I'll then be moved back to the Day Surgery area (initial little room) where I'll see my parents. During the surgery, they will be in a general waiting room with a bunch of other people waiting for their loved ones. There will be a large screen on the wall with my name on it and a little icon that will communicate where I am in the process. Once I go to recovery, Dr. Rutherford will come speak to my mom to let her know how things went.

If there aren't any complications, or excessive pain, then I can go home. I think it's about 50-50... although the Physician's Assistant told me the other day that most stay overnight. I'm packing an overnight bag just in case.

And that's that... life heading back into normalcy. Hopefully... :-)

It's Not My Time...

Last spring, when I was training for the Half Marathon, I put a lot of different songs on my iPod. Songs that inspired me...

One song that I downloaded was one from 3 Doors Down called, "It's Not My Time." Not only is it a rockin' song, but it meant something to me.

When you make a goal, whether large or small, there is always a temptation to "give up." Now, put yourself in a runner's mind: When you're pushing hard on a long run, it would be easy to either hit STOP on the treadmill or to cut your run short.

This song inspired me to not give up. I remember it fondly when I was running in a crazy windstorm - I didn't stop, quit, or give in to the "sandblasting" I was receiving.

Well, after my accident, I wasn't really in the mood to listen to my running songs. I actually just kept the iPod on my desk. Why bother? All of the songs were for a different purpose.

Once I started back to work, I realized I had my own "mini-marathon" each day. Being on crutches ain't no picnic. Imagine "crutcheting" in the June/July heat of Texas... and having to stop multiple times before reaching your destination (just to catch your breath!). I needed inspiration...

Yep, you guessed it... I pulled out the iPod. My running songs took on a whole new meaning. Now they were helping me cross a street, go up steps, or catch a dinging train!

One day, "It's Not My Time" came on... and the original meaning changed completely. It now hit me that I've been through a lot. A helluva lot! I went from the high of about to run my fastest time at a Half Marathon, to the low of trying to stand a day after the surgery... and struggling just to make my leg move 6 inches.

Some of you saw me struggling with my walker. Those were difficult days. But, it didn't break me. I graduated to crutches, walking without crutches, and eventually without the brace. I've worked hard to increase my movement and "bend," although stairs still are a major burden.

But through it all, I'm making it. I'm not giving up. This isn't going to kill me... it's making me stronger (in more ways than one!)

And this song means a lot to me... it's not my time to give up. It's not my time to quit or sit... I have more to do, more to accomplish, and more to achieve in my life than what this "setback" has done this year.

In two days, my little "helpers" are coming out. I'm interested to see what life will be like post-wire. I believe it will be better... because, if you think about it, it's about to be "MY TIME" to get going on the next stages of my life!

Time to Make the Lemonade...

I received some rather "unexpected news" yesterday that, to be rather blunt, hit me like Mack truck!

I've had, roughly, 6-7 visits to my doctor's office. I've learned to ask a lot of penetrating questions - mainly because I get those from my friends and family when I leave ("Did you ask him...."). And we all know how much I enjoy answering "question-after-question," don't we???

I digressed...

So each time I've done my best to ask the stupidest questions I could come up with...

I met with him last week, and I'll bet I asked "what it will be like after my surgery" about 5 different ways. Well yesterday, I heard a different answer from his PA (Physician's Assistant).

Jackie started the pre-operational work - asking me questions, reviewing the X-Ray, checking my vitals, probing my gut, checking my breathing (sitting up and lying down), etc. During the process, she told me some rather shocking things that were polar opposites of what the doctor had said:

1. I can expect to be in a brace with my leg locked-straight for about 2 weeks. Most patients stay overnight in the hospital after the surgery. He had told me "no brace" and "you'll be going home." She was a little baffled by that, so I'll be bringing an overnight bag just in case. And having the brace on means I might not be able to drive since it'll be locked.

2. This is not going to be an easy recovery. Apparently, I have another 8 "painful" months ahead of me. The reason is that my knee will start to adjust to life without the wires, and that most likely arthritis will set in. When they took 30% of that kneecap off, as well as the blast heard round the world, I lost the "cartilage cushion" that we all enjoy. Given that my quadriceps muscle is down significantly, I'm going to be pretty weak for a while.

3. In about 10 years, I should expect total knee replacement. The reason they didn't do that now is because of my age. And, the knee replacements, as I've been told, last about 20 years...

So I was pretty bummed... yesterday, last night, and today. Well, today it turned from "shock" to "anger." I was pretty pissed, to be quite honest with you. I'm ready to get on with my life... to start exercising... to move without pain.

You see, going into the pre-op appointment yesterday, I was thinking, "Here we go... one more step and I'm THAT much closer to getting my life back." Instead, I was told that I shouldn't expect to be at the gym in December and running a Half Marathon in April. It's not that it was a goal... just in the back of my mind.

Well, I've had enough time to think about it... so it's time to make the lemonade. If that's the worst case scenareo, can I handle it? Can I take the pain? Can I take the weakness... the inability to go up or down stairs... the limping... the leg collapsing on me because of weakness/tiredness?

Have you ever seen that movie, "Remember the Titans?" It's one of my favorites. One of the characters, the star football player, gets paralyzed. While he's in the hospital, he accepts his "lot in life" and discovers there are Olympics for those that are paralyzed. True story. He ends up winning gold medals later in life for the U.S. Of course, he gets killed in a car wreck, too, but that's not the point here...

So that's my plan: Make a plan. If I'm going to have to walk a lot to strengthen everything, then I will walk like a man on a mission. There is a big hill near my house... you better believe I will be walking up and down that hill. I've kept my gym membership... and I have plenty of active friends who I don't think would mind walking with me every now and then.

I'm moving on... drinking my lemonade... and looking forward to what's next over the horizon. I'm done with sitting on the sidelines. Time to get back into the game...

We Have a Surgical Date!!!

Do you know what today is? Exactly 6 months ago to the day, I broke my kneecap. April 26th... my how time flies....

WRONG!!!

I don't know what your 6 months have been like, but I've seen better...

Dr. Rutherford took some new X-Rays and moved the knee around. He took a measurement to see how far I could bend it (had a funky ruler), and then really examined the film.

Diagnosis: "It's really healed up quite nicely, and the wires can come out whenever you want them to."

(I could hear Angels playing harps in the distance...)

Now this is where it gets weird: Remember how I saw him on a Monday and the surgery was scheduled for Wednesday back in April? Well, mine is more like "elective" surgery. As odd to me as this sounds, some people choose to leave the wires in. I assume because of age or inactivity. However, I want these suckers out!

I next had to meet with the scheduler. She asked, "So... when do you want to have the surgery?" I said, "Well, either this week or next is fine by me... or December." My thought was to do it in plenty of time prior to my vacation to San Diego (Thanksgiving).

Turns out, there are only 2 days from now until the end of the year that I can have the surgery (based upon availability): November 11 or December 23.

Hmmm.... decisions decisions...

So not wanting to have a Christmas with stitches, I opted for the 11th. Now, I'm sure I won't answer everyone's questions, but I can at least tell you "This is all I know about what awaits me" and then you can ask your 20+ questions (which I'll respond, "I don't know):

November 5, I go in for my pre-op. Registration, blood work, etc. This is what I did on that Monday when I hobbled around the hospital with a dangling lower leg... Should take half the day.

November 11: Surgery. I do not know the time, but it should be in the morning. I'll be out and will awake in the recovery room. If there aren't complications, I go home. Most people go home. I don't know what the complications would be.

I'll stay with my folks for a few days... taking those days off. I will have stitches and a bandage, but no brace. I'll probably be on crutches for a few days. Assuming I'm feeling fine, I will work from home on the following Monday.

Three weeks after the surgery, I return to see Dr. Rutherford. He'll snip the ends of the stitches, check the incision, probably take another X-Ray, and if all goes well, that's it. He said, "You won't see me again until you break another bone." Good Lord!

At that point, I'm on my own. I'm thinking towards the end of December, I should be ready to start doing some therapy/working out. Probably will go to the gym... might look into getting a trainer. We shall see...

I have simple goals... walk without a limp, walk up/down stairs without pain... anything above that is just gravy.

Lean into the Pain...

In the past two weeks, several people have displayed... in a word... "shock"... that I still have pain in my left knee.

I then followed it up, "Look... I haven't had a day without pain since April 25th." (Day before accident)

I was actually surprised at their surprised reaction...

Maybe I'm covering it up... or maybe I don't think about it as much anymore... but it's there. It's always there. It hasn't left... It's just a part of the whole wonderful experience I call "Recovery."

Pain is the name of the game...

So I'll just clarify: Yes, if you see me sitting or standing, there is some level of pain going on. It hurts much worse if I'm walking, much less if I'm sitting. It hurts even more if I have to walk fast (to cross a quickly changing crosswalk sign). If I have to use stairs, either climbing or going down, it hurts like a mother...

Think about your daily "commute," which I use loosely to describe "your daily walking routine." If you have stairs or ramps (going up or going down) or curbs or steps, you're gonna have problems if you break your kneecap.

My daily commute includes:

• Climbing into and out of my truck.
• Walking for about 10 minutes to the train... which I then have to climb stairs to get on.
• Oh yeah, and go down those stairs when I get off.
• Walk about 10 minutes... crossing streets, going up/down curbs... climbing 10 steps into the building.
• Reversing the process on the way home.

Last month I walked on sand for the first time since the accident. While we may think, "Oh... sand... that's nice and soft." Sure... but it's also "nice and unstable." When your leg goes down on something unstable, the knee takes the adjustment. Not a lot of fun, believe you me...

Anyhoo, one of the "shocked individuals" was my mom. She, of course, immediately said I should try and go see my doctor. Remember, she's the hypochondriac of the fam. I go on October 27... that's when I'm going. Nothing earlier... nothing later. Got it? Good.

Others that made the remark were either coworkers or friends. They expressed surprise because they think I'm walking somewhat normal. Well, I am... so to speak... but each step is a blast of pain that I'm just accepting and sparing them the "Sweet Mother of Crap" whimper.

How do you tell people, "It's like walking around with a big wad of metal in your knee?" It doesn't really translate. I think when I heard people who had wires in their body, I never imagined what it really felt like. Well, now I know... and it sucks.

Again, let me assure everyone, I'm not in some state of "woe..." I'm actually more in a state of "whoa." As in, "Whoa... I better re-think if I'm going to walk that distance... go up those stairs... etc."

Today I turned down tickets to the State Fair. Our office is going for a few hours next week. I told them that it's just not where I want to be - walking around (grinding around) a big crowd and trying not to get bumped by anyone.

Wouldn't that be painful??? Even if I didn't fall, my knee would be swelled up like a grapefruit at the end of the day...

So there you go. I haven't written much because there really isn't a lot to report. Leg still hurts. Leg always hurts. Doctor visit on October 27 to schedule next surgery. Surgery could be November 5 or the first week in December. Leg will probably hurt for the remainder of the year...

It's just something you deal with...

I Feel Your Pain...

My football team was hit with a major setback when our starting quarterback, Robert Griffin, went down with an injured knee. It happened on the first drive - he was hit and hyper-extended the knee. The result: A torn ACL.

Remarkably, nobody knew it was that severe. He actually went back into the game on the next series. In one half, he passed for 226 yards and 3 TD's... on a torn ACL!

When it was discovered that he had a season-ending injury, he (and everybody else!) was shocked. He said when it happened, it was about a 10 on the pain scale. But later, while he was running around on it, it felt like a 4-5.

Losing Griffin is a major blow to a program that has struggled for the past 15 years. We haven't had a winning record in that amount of time... which means, we haven't been to a bowl. This was our year. The prognosticators felt that we could get the minimum 6 wins to be eligible for a bowl game. Why? Because we had all of the cogs working together... and the key was Robert Griffin.

That picture says it all to me. It probably speaks to him and the team. You see, that's kinda what I looked like when I crashed down on the pavement and lost all chances of running not just the marathon... but for the remainder of 2009. In an instant, your dreams and goals are dashed.

Fortunately for him, his injury isn't as severe as mine. He didn't break his kneecap into 2 pieces... and he only has 1 surgery to fix his problem. However, I know it's a heartbreak for him... the team... and the fans.

I believe he'll recover... I believe my Bears will fight for those last remaining 3 wins needed to reach a bowl... and I believe we still have the cogs in place to surprise people.

I believe all of this because I have to... if I didn't, then that would mean, in some ways, that I don't believe in myself... and I think I've shared enough of my life to each of you to prove that I DO believe in me.

So as painful as it is right now, Baylor Bears, it will get better... things will improve... and you WILL be triumphant!