Not bad

It’s been two weeks since my knee surgery. A fortnight, as they’d say on Downton Abbey. While I’m not one to sit still by preference, I would rate this healing process a solid “not bad.” It’s certainly nothing I would choose; I much prefer to be a perpetual busybody. Being constrained by my body makes me crazy, and I used to fight it mightily. I still hate it, but am coming to accept it. I’m not one for horn-tooting, but I’ve gotten a lot better at convalescing since cancer and infection so rudely interrupted my life. Put a knee surgery, albeit a complicated one, into that context and you’ll see what I mean. I’ll never love being grounded, and I’ll always yearn to be able to do more, go faster, move freely, and aim higher, but I’m doing ok. A solid “not bad.”

Physical therapy started in earnest on Monday, despite the Labor Day holiday. I was definitely laboring in my PT session, no doubt. While a good, hard workout leaves me spent and satisfied, a good, hard PT session is an entirely different animal. Making my battered knee do things it doesn’t want to do, like bend and straighten without hiding behind a limp and an outward-swinging cheating motion, is hard work. Convincing my knee that going down a set of stairs is not cause to sit down and cry is rough. My trainer is a hard-ass with no sympathy and no mercy — just the way I like it. Yesterday I was surrounded by real athletes — not adrenalin & endorphin junkies who pursue fitness but athletes who live & breathe by their sport. Watching them grind out a crazy-hard workout while I felt desolate by the endless floor exercises my PT requires, I noticed the green-eyed monster creeping in. Yep, I was jealous of those able-bodied guys whose bodies sailed through increasingly difficult exercises. Burpees with a 3-step box jump? Easy. Overhead press with gigantic plates and metal chains thrown in for extra weight? Cinchy. One-arm rows while balancing one-legged on the Bosu ball? Piece of cake. Their form is impeccable, their bodies never lagged, and their muscles rippled showily beneath their dry-fit clothes. I was flat-out jealous.

I’m still swollen, bruised, and slow. My form is decidedly old-lady, and just getting onto a couple of the weight machines was tricky. On a normal day, I’d just hike my leg up and hop onto those machines, but these days, my steps are slow and borderline shuffling, and hiking up a leg and hopping on aren’t on the menu. As I struggled through my workout, right leg shaking angrily with the effort, I realized that those athletes who looked so effortless were out of place. They’re NFL players, and the season has started. So…why aren’t they working out in far-flung cities, with their teams? Two had just been cut from their teams, and one didn’t get asked back at all. They had a bigger problem than I have with my rehab: they’ve lost their jobs and are scrambling to find another spot on another team. So while their bodies haven’t stopped them from doing what they want, circumstances have. I’m guessing they feel as much stress and frustration as I do, and who knows — they may look at me enviously, because all I’ve got to worry about is a few months of rehab while their very livelihood is on the line. 

Perspective. Once again, perspective smacked me upside the head.

I guess I needed that little reminder that while I’m “not bad,” I could be a whole lot worse.

Today is a day of rest & recovery. At the end of yesterday’s session, when my trainer ordered me to rest today, I balked. Rest?? I’m just now starting to see some progress. My range of motion is better, and I managed to use a different cardio machine than just the bike (my least-favorite, by a lot). I’d worked up a good sweat and was starting to catch a glimpse of a decent workout, after a bit of a dry spell. I didn’t want to rest & recover, I want to go, go go! Later that evening, though, as the muscle strain and soreness and the ever-present tightness around my kneecap set in, I understood. So today I will stay out of the gym. I will rest & recover. I was tempted, though, after I dropped off my middle-schooler, to run on over to the gym as is my routine. One day away, and I miss that place like a lovesick crackhead, as Ke$ha so eloquently says.

Since I’m grounded for the day, I have plenty of time to figure out how to clean up this:

Our little piggie found a lipstick in my purse and after she tried it out, she got some on the carpet.

pink is her color!

Not bad, Piggie. Not bad.

 

About these ads

10 Comments on “Not bad”

  1. Eddie says:

    Ah, perspective! The destroyer of jealousy, righteous indignation, and pity parties everywhere! It reminds us to stop thinking that we are working toward something and therefore focusing on the future. Instead, we are working on something and therefore should focus on the present. You know the old, “when I get there” kind of thinking? Well “there” is right here, if that makes any sense. Meanwhile, keep kicking ass but use your left leg!

  2. David Benbow says:

    You can put lipstick on a pig, but it’s still a pig (although the kisses taste like bacon!). Keep going, Nancy.

  3. MY gosh, this is hysterical! Pink piggy!!!!!

    Take it easy on the knee… those PT folks know what they are talking about. My yoga instructor is a PT and she diagnosed and FIXED a rotator cuff injury by giving me exercises to do. By the next week, I was all fixed. The pain was under my shoulder blade. When they are good…. they are GREAT.

    As for perspective…. Damn straight.

  4. Tony Pozeck says:

    Keep up the hard work Nancy, but try to keep in mind that rest is also need for recovery. Even God stopped to rest on the seventh day of creating the Earth.

  5. Perspective is what it is all about. Thanks for a wonderfully descriptive post. And the bit of humor.

  6. jbaird says:

    How incredibly cute, Nancy, that piggy, even though he is naughty. Perspective is indeed everything and I am proud of you for your accomplishments. I am in Dallas now for the lymphedema conference. Sweet so far. xx

  7. You Rock! I love your blog. I hope I will meet you some day:)

  8. Glad to hear you are seeing progress with your knee. Hope you’re feel more natural with the motions soon. :) The pink lipstick made me smile, but my word – how did you get it out of the rug?

    Catherine


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 981 other followers