Cat Walk and Turning a Corner

Bike Time: 45 minutes 

Distance: 8.73 miles

I was walking the dog with Jack this morning. I am just returning to walking the dog, and only for short walks. We crossed the street at a stop sign, and cars were waiting as I hobbled across. At these times, I am very self conscious of my gait and my speed. The other time I feel self-conscious is when I walk into physical therapy and Evan watches me walk. I feel like a combo of a fashion model on a catwalk and a golden retriever at the Westminster Dog Show. (At least the dogs get a treat after they are evaluated.) Jack said I was limping less. He is comparing my street walking to my gait first thing in the first thing in the morning. When I get out of bed, I have pirate leg -- my left leg is unbending and stiff. As my leg warms up, it bends and I look less like Captain Hook. My street walk looked good today, but my right leg still moves faster than my left, especially when I am trying to cross the street. I can tell, even if an untrained eye can't.

I do feel like I've turned a corner and am feeling better. Last week, I ran into friends around town, and they asked how I was doing. Each time I said I was feeling better, and I meant it. I was sincerely feeling optimistic. Normally, I would smile and grit my teeth. Now I just smiled. My plum (the fluid and stuffiness in my knee) is getting smaller and my range of motion is improving. I am less stiff and at times, my knee feels loose like a normal knee.

On the way back home from walking Fox, we stopped at the coffee shop around the corner. I saw a man in his thirties with a leg brace and a compressing wrap around his knee. I said hello and asked what happened.

"I tore my ACL," he said.

"Me too!" I said. "I am nine weeks post-surgery."

"I had surgery two days ago," he said. "They are repairing my previously torn ACL."

"Ouch," I said. It turns out he tore his ACL eight years ago, and had it repaired with an allograft. The repair didn't last, and he needs two surgeries now to fix it, the first to repair the allograft holes, and then to install the new ACL. There are two and half months between surgeries. I don't think I could stand it.

"You are going through this twice. Is it worth it?" I asked. I met another man at physical therapy last week who was on his second ACL repair. My concern isn't that this will fail, but rather there is a lot of effort in the healing process and a lot of time not being fully functional.

"Totally worth it," he said. "I play soccer and snowboard. And you look great! You can walk downhill!" I was basking in his kindness, especially from someone who has been down this track. Walking downhill is hard, and I am walking down hills, even if it takes forever.

After we walked on, I asked Jack what he thought about having a second surgery.

"The guy was probably in his early thirties, and the thought of never snowboarding or playing soccer  again for his entire life was probably unacceptable," he said. As much as this recovery is a challenge, I can see Jack's point. At times, it is hard to remember why I had the surgery. It is hard to see long-term when I've never been in this spot before. Bizarrely, I feel optimistic when I see someone going through the surgery twice. They must feel the payoff is worth the price.