Instability

It’s 10 days post surgery, and the recovery timeline is phenomenal. I should be feeling like this a month post surgery. Instead, I was up and walking 2 days after surgery; although I limited it to mainly being on my back for a week until I saw Mr. Hardy. I felt like i didn’t need crutches, didn’t need to be on my back all the time, and had no pain whatsoever. I stopped taking all my medication by Day 3. I had full ROM by Day 3 as well. I could easily do all my exercises – heel slides, quad tenses, leg raises. The only thing that worried me is a lump which began to form as I tensed my quads – and it went away as I relaxed. Almost like a pulsating golf ball under the layer of skin. This then hardened to a constant lump being present underneath the incisions. Worried, I rang Mr. Hardy twice to ask about it; and he reassured me that it was all fine. What a professional and absolute joy of a doctor to have!

Post week 1, I’ve started going for walks (30 min to an hour!). I’m yet to see my physiotherapist, and I’d like to start on the bike ASAP. I find it a little difficult to get myself active and clear-headed. i feel like i’m more productive in Dubai. Although, I’ve been quite undisciplined ever since hanging out with Shani – which is a good thing in that I’m actually chilling and living a little, rather than living in my regimented notion of productivity.

A few days ago, I was informed that my work visa had been rejected a second time. I’m in the process of finding other opportunities. Thanks a lot, EY

ACL Day 1

The surgery went well, according to Hardy. It’s been a month of meeting consultants, reading medical papers and trying to decipher what the best solution would be for my poor knee.

Hardy says that I have a complex medial meniscal tear which is the greater issue than the ruptured ACL. I won’t return to dance or high impact dance for 2 years, he says. It seems to be differing opinions; no squatting past 120 degrees for 2 years….who knows.

The operation went smoothly – I was wheeled into the theatre and a sedative was injected through the veins in my wrist. Before I knew it, I was waking up again. Apparently, I had babbled a lot at the doctors, I even tried setting Mr. Hardy’s son up with someone. I really hope I didn’t say anything else too embarrassing.

After surgery, I was wheeled into my room and I couldn’t move my lower body at all. They had injected a spinal nerve block into me, which was actually pretty horrible and annoying. I wanted so badly to move my legs, and couldn’t even pee. My bladder bloated and filled up and I tried my very best to pee into the bedpan. Sonia, my nurse, was Portuguese with a load of chutzpah. She really helped my recovery and I wish I had her throughout the night.

JM left at around 9pm. Poor thing must’ve been exhausted; we arrived at the hospital at 5.30am and slept very late the night before. I had a morphine injection at around 7pm. It definitely helped with the pain, but it made me feel queasy when I stood up. This resulted in the bedpan spilling twice – which resulted in me having to stand and wait for the sheets to be changed. I woke up a couple of times at night; went to sleep at 10pm, woke up at 12 to pee and take more meds and to put on the free cryocuff which Marcial gave me, woke up at 3 to pee and get Codein, and finally at 7 again to pee – when Mr. Hardy walked in whilst I embarrassingly needed to get cleaned up for it spilling everywhere.

I woke up at 9 with a wonderful breakfast which I had overordered to serve to the boys. JM came in half an hour too late and I had demolished the brekkie. George came in later and it was really wonderful spending time with him and chatting to him – it really put my mind off the entire situation.

2.45 we left the hospital, and spent 2 hours in traffic. Felt quite ill but closed my eyes to try and forget about the situation. I’m not comfortable taking so many meds and my tummy is not very happy with it.

I’m back at Janet’s and Amy’s made me a huge chocolate cake, and Janet’s bought me loads of goodies to cheer me up. I am really treated like royalty here.

I’m walking already – and not wearing a knee brace. Seems like my recovery is going to be quite different from before! I can do all my exercises except for leg raises, because I don’t have full extension yet.

1. Movement of ankle

2. Quad tension

3. Hammy engagement

4. Leg Raises

5. Heel slides

A day not be categorised.

I woke up at 7.00, sharp. My internal clock is still running in Dubai’s timezone. Exhausted, I stumbled out of bed and help myself to a big breakfast; I’m starving. Muesli and a croissant – that’s a first, in a long time. I lost my appetite a bit ever since I retore my ACL. Sadness, fear … or just an overall feeling of futility.

I go for a lovely walk in the morning with JM and Ronnie. i then do a little bit of lazy effort yoga and physio- I am tired, demotivated and too wary of my surroundings. I feel alien in a new surrounding – although old and familiar, I’ve just been tossed around, back and forth.

I rush to get ready to head to my 2nd appointment with Dr. Spicer. It says he deals with hips, too. I want him to look at that and make my £250 worth it. I feel strong and independent as I walk by myself to the train station.

My Oyster card declines itself as I attempt to swipe through the turnstiles. After topping it up £20 last night, it seems that it’s, SOMEHOW, been automatically cancelled. Need to call and sort that out. Luckily, I came to the station early. I miss the 11.45, but jump on the 12.00 which I was planning to try and catch originally.

Never have I ever been on a train from Sidcup that DIDN’T go to London Bridge. However, today decided to be the first. I wistfully watch the London Bridge platform edge away from me as we entered Waterloo East. ‘No worries,’ I thought to myself. I jumped on the tube and got to London Bridge station, and the hospital was conveniently infront of me (which was pointed out to me ironically by a guy in front of the station who thought I was an idiot for even asking)

All going smoothly; but they can’t open my MRI CDs. I had forgotten a bunch of CDs in Dubai. Why am I perpetually disorganised? How am I ever going to survive in EY? Spicer sees me. Says that my problem is too complex for him to look at. Sends me to see Dr. Bliss. I’ll be meeting him in an hour, at 7.

I have a physio session at 3pm which I am umm-ing and ahh-ing about. Do i really need that extra 80 quid appointment? I’m pretty good when it comes to understanding my body, and I do know the exercises I need to do. My indecisiveness is crippling. I didn’t go and I’m scared that I’ll get billed for it.

I took my simcard back from JM. I kept it in a safe place in my wallet to snip into a microchip size. When i find a shopowner who agrees to do it for free (only because I am female, probably) – I discover that I dropped it on the floor. Decide to go to the Vodafone store   to get a new simcard (easy process, usually), but my account is being ‘migrated’ that weekend. So nothing can be done.

I go to the bank, and they tell me i have negative pounds in my UK account.

AAAH