A Second Job

One short month ago today I underwent ACL reconstructive surgery.  The month has been a series of highs and lows, several times the lows were strung together for what seemed to be forever, yet it has only been a month.

My Aunt offered up that recovering from something like this is like having another job.

I have to agree with her.

The first week was just trying to keep the pain under control and get my muscles to wake up from the trauma that they experienced during the surgery and then the confusion they must have felt when they spent several days not being used.   The pain during those first few days were the worst I’ve ever experienced.  I have not had numerous surgeries and I don’t think I’m accident prone, but I have had a deviated septum surgery; the tip of a finger (with the bone) cut off and reattached; and all four wisdom teeth pulled with a local and three of them impacted and then dry socket two days later.  Up until a month ago, the dry socket was the worst.  ACL surgery tops that by a long shot.

The second week, I actually went back to work in the office and proceeded to get a gastro-intestinal bug that stuck with me for 5 days along with my youngest daughter (my boy had it a couple of days earlier).  I spent many, many hours in the recliner with my daughter on the couch watching Disney Channel.  The worst of the Gastro days was my birthday too, and my wifes birthday.  Happy Birthday!!!

The third week I was up and walking without crutches but with a noticeable limp.  I also went to the Simulator to get some recurrent training on the plane that I fly.  Everything went just fine in the Simulator.  I was very exhausted each night, but the leg was starting to feel better.

The fourth week, Physical Therapy really kicked my back side.  The pain seemed to stay with me throughout the day.  At times, the pain was so bad that I could not sit still.  I could feel myself starting down the road of depression.  No matter what I did, the knee and my muscles just wouldn’t feel better, the pain would not leave.  (The pain would leave for a while after my wife massaged the upper and lower muscles in my leg)

Here in my fifth week, I feel like I’ve taken a turn.  A good portion of yesterday was pain free and today has been the same other than an hour or so.  My Physical Therapy today went very well, and I got many more minutes of some cardiovascular work today as well.

I’m beginning to be happy with my progression.  I’m also happy with the other opportunities that this has lighted up in front of me.

I can now get on a machine (elliptical trainer) and not get bored.  I can now see the advantages of stretching.  I can now feel the difference in letting my muscles rest, but not for too long.  I can also feel what it is like to work some other muscles that I have neglected for too long.

I can also feel some hope right now, when just a few days ago I didn’t seem to have any at all.

And it truly has been a second job.

…running through my mind…

Wheelchairs, Crutches and Canes

This whole “being on crutches” thing has been frustrating at times, yet quite illuminating at other times when I have the occasion to sit and think.

As I mentioned in a previous post, there is a connectedness that drenches the air around two or more people who have shared the same type of experience or experiences.  That type of bridging is now getting easier for me to see, because of these crutches.

One of the simplest examples is my ability to now see some of what my Father has been up against for almost 30 years.  This man lost his leg to Diabetes back in the mid-80′s, and was (for the most part) handicapped for years before the mid-80′s, because of chronic issues with his feet and lower legs.  I can remember seeing him sitting in wheelchairs, walking with crutches and walking with canes.  I can also remember seeing my Grandfather (who also had a leg that was taken from him by an accident) sitting in a wheelchair and walking with crutches and canes.  Both of these men I respected over the years and thought I understood what they went through in life because those devices were part of their life.

Because wheelchairs, crutches, and canes have been part of my life since I was born, I don’t think much about them.  I can see the people behind the devices and do not put much thought into the devices themselves, so I thought.

I’ve never been on this side of the crutches, until just lately.  I can see that I really had no idea what types of experiences my Father and Grandfather had.  The world is not the same.  It’s not a bad world, it’s just different.

Now…..I still have both of my legs, so I can not say that the connectedness I can feel to my Father and Grandfather right now has anything to do with having an appendage that is gone forever.  However, I do feel a connectedness to them because of the looks from other people; those looks of pity; the inability to walk through a door without it hitting you on your ass; the inability to go anywhere at anytime you like; the humor you feel as though you must inject in order to bring the conversation back up to something that is tolerable.

I think I understand both men much better now.

…running through my mind…

Crutches and Past Experiences

Usually one does not find someone to connect with at the Department of Motor Vehicles. I did just a few short days ago.

I’ve been on and off of crutches for the last week; one thing I’ve noticed is the lack of people – outside of individuals that are in our immediate social surroundings – that are willing to open a door for you or even help you out with something as simple as picking up a piece of paper. I’m not expecting any preferential treatment, I’m just a little shocked that people will see you struggling with a door and not lend a hand.

Back to the DMV. After I had accomplished everything I needed to do (on the first visit too, which I’m pretty proud of) I was limping out of the facility on my crutches when a woman probably 20 years older than me, popped up from her seat and practically jogged to the door to open it for me. She stated that she’s been in the same position before and knows what it’s like. This got me to thinking.

Were other people not helping out because they had not experienced the joy of hobbling around on crutches? Had they been on crutches before, but because people did not help them, it poisoned them to help someone else? Did they not even see me on crutches? Was I getting along so well on my crutches, that they figured I didn’t need any help? Was the look on my face, “Don’t you dare help me, I’m fine!”?

I suppose I’m over-analyzing this entirely too much, and the end thought for me should be – “It’s not all about me!”

Isn’t it amazing how a shared or a common experience between two people create an air surrounding them that is impenetrable. That lady that helped me out, didn’t care about her surroundings other than helping me out at that moment. And I didn’t care about much at the time either, other than the fact that someone cared enough and was astute enough to see a problem and help out.

I do wonder though; what have I done for others because of my past experiences (yet I don’t ever realize that I’m doing it), and what have I not done for others because of a background and/or exposure that I have not endured?

…running through my mind…