Two weeks ago I tore my ACL and MCL and in less than a month I'll be having a knee reconstruction - the surgeon will take two tendons from my hamstring and create a graft replacing my torn ACL. I will then have about 9-12 months of rehab before I can run and move fully and freely again.
Over the last two weeks I've been heavily dependent on my husband, and really anyone who is around. I have needed help getting in and out of the shower - the first day I couldn't even have a shower. I sat on the toilet and had a sponge bath (not sexy at all - trust me!). I have needed help getting dressed because I can't bend my leg to put on underwear or socks. For days I was confined to our bedroom because we live in a split level house and both the bathrooms are on the upper level and I couldn't get up and down the steps. If I woke up early initially I had to lie in bed until J woke up because I couldn't get anywhere without his help. If I dropped something I needed him to pick it up. I haven't been able to cook or clean or duck down to the supermarket if we need something. It blows my mind how lucky I have been having him - and my mum who came over every day in the first week, and my friends who brought me movies and cooked us meals. There have also been a lot of tears - tears of pain, tears of frustration, tears of guilt and tears of disappointment knowing my knee reconstruction will happen right about when we would have been doing our last IVF cycle, which will now be delayed until early next year.
But at the same time there have been lessons and moments of empowerment and gratitude.
I have been reminded by how good a partnership J and I are and especially in our ability to laugh in some dark moments. We have laughed while I was in pain waiting for the ambulance, in the emergency department, with the GP and the surgeon. We've laughed at the crutches and the wheelchair and my helplessness and J's helpfulness.
I have become so grateful for mobility and I have felt empowered as I've been able to do things that I previously took for granted. The first time I was able to put pants on by myself or gotten up and down the steps. Yesterday was the first day I was able to get in and out of the shower without needing J there to support me or hand me my towel or crutches. I know there have been many moments where I've done something myself, J has shaken his head at me knowing I'm pushing my limits and probably being a bit risky but I have been proud and happy that I can free him of one more chore. It seems so silly and dramatic that you can feel that way after just a week or two of an injury but when there is suddenly so much that you can't do, each day winning one or two of those things back does feel like a major accomplishment.
I have also been re-learning how to do nothing. Now that I'm more mobile on the crutches this is less of an issue but I want to hold on to it! The moments where I have laid in bed waiting for J to get up or sat in the wheelchair waiting for someone to come get me or bring something to me have been little moments of peace. I am the first one to say that I'm hopeless at doing nothing, I can't sit and watch TV and do nothing else - I need to be on my phone or on the computer or doing something. Yet the moments that I really love and really relax in are the ones where I am doing nothing or very little - lying in a bath reading, no technology, or sitting outside in the sunshine just being. It makes me sad that I've lost the ability and the drive to do nothing. I really believe it has come from advances in technology where we're expected to be on top of everything instantly. We stand in queues or sit in waiting rooms and we don't just wait - have a look around, everyone's on their phones. Yet suddenly I haven't been able to carry my handbag which has meant I haven't always had my phone within easy reach. Sometimes I have had to just sit and wait.
Last week I was sitting in the wheelchair in the lounge room. The windows were open so the sun was streaming through and it was one of those days that felt like Spring. While I was just sitting, waiting, I became aware of how peaceful it was and of birds that must have been just out of sight singing away in the sunshine. I sat there and focused on the warmth on my skin, the feel of the gentle breeze coming through the open window and the sounds of the birds. I was filled with such a strong sense of peace and gratitude. If I had been well and un-injured I would have been sitting in my office beavering away, but instead this injury brought me this moment of doing nothing and a great sense of contentment.
I know I'll have to work hard at continuing to do nothing - that sounds weird doesn't it. I'm already trying to do more and more as I gain more mobility back. But regardless, I'll take these little moments - lessons and gratitude amongst the challenge and I'll hold on to them.
Over the last two weeks I've been heavily dependent on my husband, and really anyone who is around. I have needed help getting in and out of the shower - the first day I couldn't even have a shower. I sat on the toilet and had a sponge bath (not sexy at all - trust me!). I have needed help getting dressed because I can't bend my leg to put on underwear or socks. For days I was confined to our bedroom because we live in a split level house and both the bathrooms are on the upper level and I couldn't get up and down the steps. If I woke up early initially I had to lie in bed until J woke up because I couldn't get anywhere without his help. If I dropped something I needed him to pick it up. I haven't been able to cook or clean or duck down to the supermarket if we need something. It blows my mind how lucky I have been having him - and my mum who came over every day in the first week, and my friends who brought me movies and cooked us meals. There have also been a lot of tears - tears of pain, tears of frustration, tears of guilt and tears of disappointment knowing my knee reconstruction will happen right about when we would have been doing our last IVF cycle, which will now be delayed until early next year.
But at the same time there have been lessons and moments of empowerment and gratitude.
I have been reminded by how good a partnership J and I are and especially in our ability to laugh in some dark moments. We have laughed while I was in pain waiting for the ambulance, in the emergency department, with the GP and the surgeon. We've laughed at the crutches and the wheelchair and my helplessness and J's helpfulness.
I have become so grateful for mobility and I have felt empowered as I've been able to do things that I previously took for granted. The first time I was able to put pants on by myself or gotten up and down the steps. Yesterday was the first day I was able to get in and out of the shower without needing J there to support me or hand me my towel or crutches. I know there have been many moments where I've done something myself, J has shaken his head at me knowing I'm pushing my limits and probably being a bit risky but I have been proud and happy that I can free him of one more chore. It seems so silly and dramatic that you can feel that way after just a week or two of an injury but when there is suddenly so much that you can't do, each day winning one or two of those things back does feel like a major accomplishment.
I have also been re-learning how to do nothing. Now that I'm more mobile on the crutches this is less of an issue but I want to hold on to it! The moments where I have laid in bed waiting for J to get up or sat in the wheelchair waiting for someone to come get me or bring something to me have been little moments of peace. I am the first one to say that I'm hopeless at doing nothing, I can't sit and watch TV and do nothing else - I need to be on my phone or on the computer or doing something. Yet the moments that I really love and really relax in are the ones where I am doing nothing or very little - lying in a bath reading, no technology, or sitting outside in the sunshine just being. It makes me sad that I've lost the ability and the drive to do nothing. I really believe it has come from advances in technology where we're expected to be on top of everything instantly. We stand in queues or sit in waiting rooms and we don't just wait - have a look around, everyone's on their phones. Yet suddenly I haven't been able to carry my handbag which has meant I haven't always had my phone within easy reach. Sometimes I have had to just sit and wait.
Last week I was sitting in the wheelchair in the lounge room. The windows were open so the sun was streaming through and it was one of those days that felt like Spring. While I was just sitting, waiting, I became aware of how peaceful it was and of birds that must have been just out of sight singing away in the sunshine. I sat there and focused on the warmth on my skin, the feel of the gentle breeze coming through the open window and the sounds of the birds. I was filled with such a strong sense of peace and gratitude. If I had been well and un-injured I would have been sitting in my office beavering away, but instead this injury brought me this moment of doing nothing and a great sense of contentment.
I know I'll have to work hard at continuing to do nothing - that sounds weird doesn't it. I'm already trying to do more and more as I gain more mobility back. But regardless, I'll take these little moments - lessons and gratitude amongst the challenge and I'll hold on to them.