the brokedown knee saga

Way Back When-sday—woohoo!

Did you know I had knee surgery?

Yep, it’s true. Back in y2k (for real: the year 2000), I had some pretty serious surgery reconstructing my ACL and meniscus in my right knee. In case you were thinking about going in for some knee surgery just for giggles sometime soon, let me be the first to warn me: you should not do that. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Not even slightly. And in case you still aren’t convinced, then I was thinking that maybe a little photographic limp  walk down Memory Lane just might do the trick.

Maybe it will help to know that this surgery took place on August 15, right before my senior year of high school started. This meant I’d spent the previous 3 months enjoying nothing but sun and fun and weeks and weeks of band camps. Hence the killer tan. See it and weep.

Here I am right after surgery (judging by my hospital gown…). Ahh…the delicious drug-induced post-surgery sleep…

This is me attempting to look awake. And mostly failing. And awkwardly grasping a stuffed cat someone brought me in the hospital.

Look, my friends came!! These should be some familiar faces if you paid any attention to my picture a few weeks ago: Chris and Jessica are sharing the chair, Patrick is all lonely, sitting alone. (Please note the Sonic Route 44 slushie on my tray. Looking through these photos made me realize I could play a “Where’s Waldo?” type game with slushie cups. Apparently I was a fan.)

After 2 days in the hospital, they let me go home. There I proceeded to live on a couch downstairs for the next long while. Apparently I wasn’t much better at not-passing-out, though. (Note: in another picture of basically this same shot, you can spy a slushie cup on the floor next to me)

BOOM!! Fatty cankle! Thanks to my mother for the “1 week & 1 day” sign so that we realize that my leg actually looked and felt way worse AFTER surgery than it ever did before. OMG THE SWELLING.

Did you ever wonder how people with massive leg braces and brokedown knees got their hair washed? Now you won’t have to wonder anymore.

Gaining my independence again. Crutches, aka the WORST THING THAT COULD EVER HAPPEN TO YOUR ARMPITS. Forget the leg pain, all I remember about the weeks on crutches was OMG THE ARMPITS. Raw. Swollen. Bloody. Armpits. You’re welcome.

And we’ll end on a positive note with the BEST thing about brokedown knees and huge leg braces:

 Yes, they are as fun as you might imagine. (Did you see the Sonic cup in the basket?) Fun fact: several years later, while home on break from college (and obviously my knee was completely rehabbed), my friend Dustin and I would take the ol’ knee brace out to various stores, slap ‘er on, and go for rides on motorized grocery carts. Yep. We’re just that exciting.

Come to think of it, I STILL have the brace. If you’re ever looking for a rip-roarin’ Friday night, just let me know…

So, what inspired me think of this fun and exciting period of my life as fodder for today’s post? Oh, maybe the fact that at some point on Saturday, my knee started hurting. And swelling. And not being stable. And call me a hypochondriac if you will, but I immediately diagnosed that probably my knee is busted again and I will probably have to have surgery again and only now it is 11.5 years later and it will probably be way worse, the recovery way longer, and I won’t even have a tan. Not to mention we’d be footing the (considerable) bills ourselves. So I’ve been semi-limping around, NOT going to Zumba, and just generally feeling sadsies for my poor broken knee (still slightly swollen, still not stable).

And on THAT happy note, I’m off to watch The Wild and Wonderful Whites of West Virginia, prop up my knee, massage my phantom-pain-feeling-armpits, and try to con Matt into getting me a Sonic slushie. (Does it help to know I’m actually typing this on Tuesday night?) Later!