Week three was suuuuuper emotional. A proverbial roller coaster. Peaks and valleys.
It started with a valley. A deep, deep valley.
The Saddest Monday Night
I’ve been pretty successful distracting myself with doctor appointments, work projects, writing and working on our new business venture, but Monday night was a new low for me.
Jaime left for Jam, Mark wasn’t home yet and I was so, so sad.
No Jam. No fix everything Jam. No Monday night, crazy fun, see all my friends, dance my ass off Jam.
And I was just so sad.
I wouldn’t be able to Jam again for 16 months. First of all, that’s an eternity. Secondly, I’m not 23. I’m 36 and the thought of not teaching again until I was 38…it just seemed…crazy. By the time I got back, everything would have passed me by.
I wouldn’t be able evolve with the program. I wouldn’t be around for any innovations.
By the time I got back, nothing in my Jam wardrobe would be in style. (Ok, it’s already not that stylish. Stephanie – I need to get me a flannel ass wrap.)
But most of all, maybe the hardest part to come to grips with (because I will admit I am kind of an ego maniac), the members would be over me. Some would have moved on to another gym or class. Some would have connected with one of our other fantastic Jammers. Regardless of the reason, I would be starting over. And I’d be starting over older and rusty.
Three weeks ago, my Jam class slayed. In 16 months, I’d be old news. More likely, I’d be no news. I am not proud of needing that attention and recognition, but I would be lying to say I didn’t and it was just hitting me how it was all going away.
I know this because I have watched previously beloved instructors leave a class for different reasons and while it was initially disappointing, people got over it, and shockingly fast. And, they should – it’s fine, it’s understandable. But it also hurts to be replaced so easily after feeling so connected to a group of people.
Mark got home, held onto to me and let me cry it out. He’s a good egg. He’s the best egg.
The Results Are In
On Tuesday, I received the results of my MRI. Good news! They found the following:
- Bone spurs (off the tibia, the femur and the patella)
- Degenerative tear in medial meniscus
- Bone bruise on tibia
Sounds amazing, right? It actually is and this is why.
It’s possible that the symptoms that have resulted in such a quick decline in the condition of my knee were caused by the list above, NOT the arthritis. Which means, if they fix the list above, maybe I can back to my regularly scheduled life without replacing parts of my knee.
Dr. MNBF sends me to see their sports medicine specialist (SMS) to see if he can determine how much of my issue is due to all this other stuff going on and how much is due to the arthritis.
Dr. SMS takes a look at my x-rays and MRI and says this:
If you were 55 years old, I’d send you right back to Dr. MNBF and tell you replace that knee and move on with your life. But you’re not 55. You’re 36 and you’re active and if it were my knee, I’d try everything I could before I started replacing body parts. There’s a good chance once we clean up the meniscus, the spurs and get rid of some scar tissue, you’ll get some range of motion back and be in far less pain.
You mean to tell me, I could have this knee scoped, clean it out essentially, and I may be able to avoid a knee replacement for a year or two or five? And rehab would only take 1-3 months not years??
Yes please. YES PLEASE!!!
February 19th is my new surgery date. Surgery should take an hour and I’ll get to go home the same day. I start physical therapy two days later and I can’t wait. Seriously. Let’s get this rehab party started!
I had my pre-op physical on Friday. I thought I had dodged the Mercury in retrograde bullet, but nope. Between not receiving the paperwork from Dr. SMS’ office and then ridiculous wait times in my primary care doc’s office, I didn’t get to work until 11:00 am and had missed my first two clients of the day.
Regardless of the annoyances of Friday, the week had much bigger ups than downs. I feel a little like I have been given a chance to come back that previously seemed impossible and I am pretty excited.
There are no guarantees. I could have my knee scoped, rehab the hell out of it and find out I’m no better off than I was before it. If that’s the case, I’ll have to deal with it. And I’m willing to take that chance because the flip side means…I’m back.
Hope is a tricky thing. If I don’t have enough, I might not work as hard as I need to to get back. If I have too much and it doesn’t go my way, my heart will take a beating.
I’m willing to risk it. They told me one to three months of rehab.
Two months from surgery is April 19th. Launch season.
Body Jam 72, I’m coming for you.