Happy Ninth Birthday, Imma-Jane!

In our lifetimes, we encounter thousands of people. Most of them have little influence on us.  Some leave a bit of an impression. Others help mold and shape us in ways we cannot even express in words. I was thirty years old when I met Imma-Jane. She was a small, wrinkly, red, screaming individual who really, really, really didn't want to leave her previous abode.  I knew from that moment--or possibly eight months before when I found out that she existed--my life would be forever changed.

She got them all with one blow!  Wish come true!!

What I didn't know at that time, holding her in my arms in the hospital, oblivious to the rest of the world, was how profoundly my life would change, the lessons she would teach me, the ways she would force me to grow and evolve and become a better person. I also didn't realize the effect she would have on everyone else she encountered.

We went to Medieval Times to celebrate. She had a lot of fun, despite her silly expression!

If you know Imma, then you know exactly what I'm talking about.  She's introspective. If she says something to you, it's important. She's a rule follower. If she believes something to be unjust, she will let you know. She's calculating; her brain is always thinking about shapes and objects and how they relate together. She's musical.  She can make anything an instrument and hear the beauty in any song. She's silly.  We were once told she'd never be able to understand jokes, but now her humor is often so clever sometimes it takes me a moment to get it. And in the same breath, potty humor is also hilarious.  She's independent.  Now that she is nine, she's pretty sure she's a grown up.  She's mine. She's my girl.  She always will be. And I'm so very lucky that God looked down one day and thought, "Yep, she can do it.  It won't be easy, but this is the one." (I hope and pray each day that I'm not disappointing Him.) I'm sure, however, He had the same conversation with Imma. "It won't be easy, but if anyone can handle having Amy for her mom, it's you."

She got an iPad mini for her birthday! 

With each passing year, Imma becomes more aware of her differences. So do other children. For the most part, we've been very lucky not to have bad experiences.  Most of the time, kids are kind. Teachers and other adults help facilitate that kindness. Now that she is nine, I begin to worry even more. We are approaching middle school, and that's tough for anyone. She will be going back to her old school this year, and I won't be with her. I pray that she is in a classroom with a teacher who will love her as much as her previous teachers have, who will guide her and direct her, while protecting her from the sharp words misunderstandings about autism also lead to, especially among young people who don't quite get it but know something is different. I pray that this year she rekindles the friendships she has had in the past with the sweet children who wrapped her in their arms for the first three years of her educational career. I pray that she is able to keep up with her friends at Merriman Park as well and that fourth grade isn't too difficult since she will be the new girl, sort of.   I pray that her program works for her, that she continues to make progress, and that she is able to find her own voice so that she can show others exactly what she knows and ask for help when needed.

Not exactly a girly cake, but she loves Star Wars!

I pray for more smiles than tears, more hugs than hurts, more love than hate or indifference.
And above all else, I am so very thankful that I am her mother. Happy birthday, Imma-Jane Isabella! May this be the best year yet!

Learning to Walk, One Step at a Time

Thursday, two days ago, was a pretty important day in my recovery; it was the day I took my first steps in about two months.  It wasn't unassisted, it wasn't easy, and it certainly wasn't graceful, but it was progress--one foot in front of the other--and it was a turning point for me in a lot of ways.
I have had a new therapist every time I've gone in to PT. This time, I got the lead therapist.  She is extremely nice, patient, and religious, and I needed all three.  The first thing we talked about was that I now had permission to bear weight on my leg. So, she immediately wanted me to get up on the crutches and walk--and I couldn't. I was terrified.  We talked for a few minutes. She explained to me that most of the weight would be on the crutches, and that she was certain I could do it. I asked her a million questions. How did she know I could do it? Was she sure my knee would hold? What if it didn't? What if I lost my balance? What if I fall? What if it hurts too much?  She answered all of my questions and assured me that I could do it, my knee would hold, she would have ahold of me so I wouldn't fall, and that it wasn't going to hurt too much. Finally, she said, "Can I pray for you?" Well, of course I said yes, and so she did.  And that definitely helped calm my nerves.  But... I was still apprehensive.  The last time I had taken a step was nine days after the initial accident, and that had been when I had blown my meniscus. That day, I had been told I could bear weight to toleration as well, and it didn't turn out that way. I needed to know I wasn't going to undo two months of work--I'm tired of starting over.
So, she decided to get out the walker. Which was definitely better than the unsteady crutches.  Even standing with as much weight as possible on the walker, however, I was still horrified that I was going to hurt myself. I stood there for a long time, just looking at my feet, trying to remember how I had done this millions of times before. Do you stop and think about it before you take a step? Of course not; you just do it.  It's all habit and nature for the vast majority of adults. Standing there pushing down on that walker, a belt around me, my calm therapist's reassuring voice in my ear, I fixed my eyes on my neon pink tennis shoes and willed my left foot to take a leap of fate and moved forward. It wouldn't budge....
Then she said, "It's just like Peter. What gave him the courage to step out on that water?  Jesus did. He's right here with you now, and He's telling you to have faith--you can do it. You will do it."
With that thought in my mind, I took a deep breath, and I picked up my foot.  And I ended up hopping. The first step wasn't really a step--but it was progress.  After that, though, I took one more step and then another and another. I walked about ten feet across the room and sat down in a chair where she directed me. It was probably one of the most difficult things I have ever done in my life--but I had done it. I had started the journey.

This really spoke to me today.  We may never know why we were required to fall before we could fly. Sometimes we just have to believe that His reasons are far greater than anything we can understand.

That session, she gave me a lot of weight bearing exercises to practice at home. I am also supposed to work on my stretches. She told me to practice walking three times a day, not very far, and only with my husband holding on to a belt around me.  I have walked a few times in the last couple of days, and I will tell you, every step is still terrifying. But I am learning to push past the fear, a little at a time. I'm learning to trust my body, to trust myself, and to have faith that the same person who allowed Peter to walk on water has His arms around me as well.
I'm still not able to completely straighten or bend my knee, but I am working on it each day, continuing to go through all of the exercises I've been given. It is difficult--it is mundane. It is sometimes painful, and it is always challenging.  There is nothing easy about any of this. And I can admit there have been times when I have felt like I am never going to walk again, that I can't do this anymore. I think this is pretty common; from what I have read from other people who have suffered this injury (or any injury, honestly) it is natural to feel pretty down at times.  Whenever I start to feel that way, I have to reach out to my friends and family. I'm lucky that so many people have rallied around me and shared words of encouragement just when I have needed them.
I understand my predicament could be a lot worse. I know this isn't cancer. It isn't losing a limb or being permanently disfigured or even permanently disabled.  I don't pretend that my journey is any more difficult or challenging than anyone else's, and I know so many people who have overcome so much more. But this has certainly been a struggle for me.  I have faith that, wherever I stand at the end of this journey, I will be standing, and that I will have gotten there through thousands, if not millions, of little steps, and hops, and jumps, and one giant leap of faith.

ACL Reconstruction Post-Op Days 8-10

Day 8 was pretty uneventful--it was basically a repeat of day 6 and 7. Things got a little better in the pain department, but I was still around a 3 or a 4 most of the time, with tiny spikes to 7.  Day 9, however, was a game changer.  Day 9 was the day I took control back over the situation and was reminded that I am the only one who can "fix" me.
I went to the physical therapist for the first time on Friday, which was Day 9. It was an early appointment and I took my medicine about an hour before it was scheduled to start so that if they decided to torture me, at least I'd have something to take the edge off. This is the first time since the accident that,when they've called my name at an appointment,  I've gone back on my own--Brian stayed in the waiting room. It was a little unsettling, but I knew this was something I had to do by myself.
I really liked the therapist right off the bat. He was very easy to talk to, seemed genuinely concerned about my injury, and definitely gave me the impression that we were going to get me all fixed up in no time. But after I finished telling him what had happened, and he'd asked me about my goals, etc., he said something that really resonated with me. He said, "I can't fix you--only you can fix you." I've known this all along, I guess. But hearing him say it really reminded me that whether or not I ever walk again is really up to me. I can go through the motions, or I can choose to ignore them altogether, and either way I end up in a wheelchair for several more weeks, months, years. Or I can give this everything I've got and get back to normal as quickly as humanly possible. Of course, I need guidance from the therapists, but at the end of the day, the results are all up to me.
I was there for about an hour.  We did measurements and I found out that my leg will currently extend 31 degrees. My left leg, the good one, extends to -5. He explained that I will need to get my right leg even with my left so that I can walk without a limp, etc. He also told me how far it was bending, but I don't remember what he said. I am definitely more concerned with extension at this point.
He showed me six different exercises that I will have to do several times a day. They are all designed to stretch out the ligaments and muscles in my leg and get it to extend and bend the way that it is supposed to. The worst one, by far, is the slow stretch, where I extend my leg as far as I can and then leave it that way for up to fifteen minutes at a time.   So, for me at this point, this would be taking it out 31 degrees, and keeping it stretched as long as I can.  He said I could start out at two minutes, but I needed to build up to 15.  This is one of those slow burn, no pain no gain type of exercises. Sounds simple enough, but it is pretty painful. He told me if it hurt above a four to stop, and if it really starts hurting I suppose I will, but a sustained pain at a four that you know you can relieve by changing position is almost as bad as a sharp seven that goes away pretty quickly.
I really liked my therapist, and I felt like he had a great plan in place. Unfortunately, at the end of the session he told me he wasn't going to be working at that location anymore. That was kind of disappointing, but I'm sure they have other therapists that are just as good and that will help me make quick progress.

My daily exercises!

I go back on Tuesday, which will be post-op Day 13. By then, my goal is to have my extension to 20 degrees. That seems like a big jump to me, but I'm ready for the challenge.
My next stop on Day 9 was back at the ortho's office.  There's a nurse there who is very nice and she always stops to speak to me even when I'm not her patient. I was really happy that she was the one to remove the tape from my wounds!  I thought a man would probably just come in and pull it all off, but of course she didn't. (Most of the other nurses in the office are men, including the guy who insisted I fully straighten my leg last time, even though I can't.)  She cleaned it off with alcohol and the tape all came off pretty well. It actually looks a lot better, although it's still a bit misshapen and there will likely be some scarring.
My doctor checked it, forced me to fully extend it, even when I told him the PT said I couldn't, and checked how far I could bend it. Then, he showed me some pictures from the surgery. Apparently, I had completely severed my ACL from my femur. There was just a scraggly little stump left, like the roots of a weed holding on for dear life. He showed me pictures of my new ACL, too.  It looked very sturdy and fully capable of doing its job!
For some reason, I think the doc was under the impression he had already given me a brace with an adjustable locking mechanism. I explained that I haven't had one. He asked a similar question at the hospital, so I think he that we had done this already. Well, I got one yesterday and got it fitted. They locked it in at 20 degrees. I was confused and explained that my extension was only 31 and they said okay. I don't know if these two things are related--I thought they would be--but when they put it on, it wasn't uncomfortable (I mean, not anymore than any brace would be) so I guess it doesn't matter that I'm at a 31 and it's at a 20.  I like it--it reminds me a bit of Luke Skywalker's arm for some reason.  I hope I don't have to wear it for long, but I appreciate the fact that it has a lot of support for my knee, which should be helpful once I can start walking again. Speaking of, he told me to wait until next Wednesday, two weeks from the operation, before I start putting any weight at all on it and then to start off with 20 to 30 pounds tops. We are going to have to get that number up pretty quickly for me to be walking on it anytime soon....
Today is Day 10, and I started my exercise full throttle today. Sure, I went through as many as I could yesterday afternoon, but I didn't really have some of the props I needed, and I didn't have time in the day to do all of the reps.  Today, I have all day, and I'm almost done with them, though there are some I'm planning on going back and re-visiting.
As anticipated, that slow stretch has been a killer. The first time, I couldn't hold it for more than two minutes. I have now worked my way up to 10 minutes, but I don't think I can do 15 yet. I have to have at least an hour in with this stretch each day, which doesn't sound like a lot, but I can't tell you how many times I haven't been able to fit an hour long workout into my day (or have thought I couldn't anyway) which tells me it's a bigger chunk of time than it sounds.  Still, it's the most important thing I can do to help myself get better, so I'll definitely get that hour in each day. For now, I don't have a lot of other things to do anyway....
I do think I am making progress. Even right now, my leg is pretty straight. I usually keep it as bent as possible, but I'm just naturally keeping it straight with one pillow under it right now, and I think that tells me it isn't as insistent that it has to be bent as it has been in the past.
I will go to PT twice a week for the next two months, and then we will see where we are. They said the first two months are the most critical to my recovery.  The doctor still thinks it is possible that I could be walking (assisted) in another two weeks. I hope that I can walk by the beginning of July when I go back to see him.
So... that's where I'm at on my journey right now. It's been two months and two days since the incident. My pain is getting better each day, my leg is starting to cooperate a little more, and I really feel like I have more control over this than I have in a long time.
If you have questions, or something you would like to share, please feel free to leave a comment!

ACL Reconstruction Post-Op Day 7

I slept pretty well last night, once I finally fell asleep. I woke up a few times, but I slept from about 12:00 midnight until 6:00 AM. Then, after my husband and kids left, I fell back to sleep for another four hours.  That's probably the most sleep I've gotten since the surgery and maybe since the accident.
My pain was very manageable this morning. Until about 3:00 this afternoon, I wasn't in much pain at all. I'm not sure what happened at that point, but that was three hours ago, and since then, it's been pretty bad. Maybe a six on a scale of one to ten. That's about the worse it's been in the last three or four days. I took my meds about thirty minutes ago, and that's helping, but I am disappointed that the pain didn't stay mild all day. I had hopes that today would be the day I'd turn a corner and be on the downhill slide.
I'm wondering if the refill on my hydrocodone has anything to do with it. It's the same prescription, according to the bottle, but I got it filled at a different pharmacy. I doubt that is it, but it's the only thing I've done differently. Of course, I realize that pain ebbs and flows, and it could be any number of things that have caused my rough afternoon.
Something else interesting about my refill is that this bottle says to take 1-2 tablets every 6-8 hours whereas my original prescription says 1/2 to 1 pill every 6 hours.  If I had known I could take two pills right after surgery, I definitely would have been doing that. I don't need that now, but I did last week. I have no idea why the directions are different. I'm sticking with the original plan--one pill every six hours with a Tramadol about halfway through if needed. And ice. Ice has been my life saver. When the ice melts in the middle of the night or I run out before my husband gets a chance to fill it, I can definitely tell the difference.
I am worried about straightening my leg. I can't do it, and I am too scared to really work on that right now without specific instructions. I'm afraid they will make me do it on Friday at Physical Therapy and that it will hurt like a son of a biscuit.  I'm also concerned that they might make me straighten it at the doctor that day because the nurse made me do it last week--as in he picked up my leg and straightened it, and even when I told him it was excruciating, he kept it straight anyway so he could put my immobilizer on.
I decided to take my ace bandage off while I'm sitting around this afternoon. I know the doctor said I could take it off last week, but I was a little scared to leave it off, especially with two little girls. But it's off now, and that's a lot more comfortable. I really hate the feeling of having something bunched up behind my knee, so I was constantly straightening it, and it was constantly scrunching up again.

Not planning on using this too much anymore.

Tomorrow should be another non-eventful day of catching up on DVRed shows. I'm sad that I won't be with the girls at school on their last days of kindergarten and third grade. I'm sad that I won't get to tell the student and staff at our school goodbye. I am happy that the girls will be here next week though. I've really been missing them these last few weeks. I am used to spending a lot of time with them, and they've been coming home from school and playing or going upstairs, a place I vaguely remember.... I think we are all ready for summer vacation to officially begin, and I would love to think I might be walking again by the end of the month.
If you are undergoing ACL surgery and you have any questions, please feel free to comment or email me.