Six Months Post-Injury
Reflections on recovery, resilience, and a heads up re: a likely hiatus next week
It's hard for me to believe that yesterday marked six months since the injury first happened. A half year gone by, I'm trying to reflect on the positive outcomes of this time and experience.
Candidly, it's a short list.
I don't have many warm, fuzzy, sparkling reflections on this topic or any insights about how I became a better, tougher, more grateful person. Ask me again what it was all for, what it all meant, what divine purpose this injury served when I can genuinely look back on this rather than feel myself continuing to live through it. As I've mentioned before, this is not the year I would have imagined for myself and certainly not one that I would wish on others.
Heading into the thick of August, it saddens me to see summer pass by without being able to make the most of it. However, if I had to choose, I'd rather miss out on being active in the summer than deal with the brunt of recovery in the winter, risking slips and falls on ice and navigating numerous family obligations through the holidays.
A Brief Hiatus and Upcoming Adventures
Next week, I'll likely take a break from writing here due to travel. If I do post something, it will be a cross-post from @thesubmissionartist as I'll be happily immersed in the world of jiu-jitsu, even if it'll be months before I'm back on a mat myself.
I'll be in Las Vegas watching CJI (from my hotel room) and ADCC (live and in person), enjoying some of the biggest-ever jiu-jitsu events in the sport. The last time I attended ADCC in 2022 (which was also my first time), I was working as a reporter. This time, I'll just be a fan and happy spectator in the stands. As much as I'd love to contribute live coverage from the floor, I remember how exhausting it was last time, and I'm not in the physical condition to do it again this year. My body will just about manage getting in and out of seats within T-Mobile Arena, without having to navigate the confusion on the floor.
Traveling with Caution—but without a Wheelchair!
I am a little wary of traveling—especially to Vegas—given my experiences in late June and early July. Dealing with assistive services at airports and figuring out mobility logistics throughout the trip was exhausting. Despite wanting to be on my feet, I didn't feel good or confident, and I certainly couldn't keep up with my mother (who, even with a hip replacement scheduled for September, was undeterred in clocking close to a half-marathon's worth of steps every day, even in 100-degree heat). The aching, stiffness, and swelling—along with the constant fear of either falling or being bumped into by others—made it challenging to fully enjoy the trip.
Fortunately, a lot has improved in six weeks, and my husband will be with me for the entirety of this trip. If nothing else, he's a better physical shield than my hundred-pound, seventy-year-old mother. Beyond the companionship, I feel better about this trip from a physical standpoint. I'm "freed" from the hard, immobilizing brace and have more faith in my ability to navigate an airport and a sporting venue, provided I move absurdly slowly and cautiously.
Small Steps Towards Normalcy
In the last week, I've started venturing out on small, point-to-point errands to non-crowded places with only a compression sleeve on my leg—or sometimes nothing at all. I sat in the gym to watch a jiu-jitsu class this week, and my coach's daughter was the first to comment on the absence of my usual getup: "Where's the thing on your knee?" Her father echoed the sentiment: "It's good to see you out of that thing," referring to the miserable bear trap apparatus that had me trapped from ankle to thigh for the better part of the last four months since surgery.
I feel very naked, exposed, and Bambi-like in these early experiences of walking around the world with less "armor." Yet, this is what my life used to be like normally. I never second-guessed my ability to step down from a curb or navigate the space between cars in a parking lot while keeping my balance. I never paid this kind of attention to my body in space and thought about "safe" movement outside of a jiu-jitsu context.
The Healing Process
The scars are shrinking (see the picture at the bottom of this post). I diligently apply Vitamin E, Bio-Oil, and cocoa butter on the spots where the open wounds used to be every day. The incisions serve as a daily reminder of what happened and why I am in this condition. It's challenging to see some visible external improvement while remembering that this kind of recovery is only skin deep. The pain hasn't fully abated, the strength hasn't returned, and complete recovery is an inside job.
There's a disconnect and a mindfuck there.
A Milestone Achievement
Cue some play on the “One small step for man” line from the moon landing, but this past week got me to my biggest milestone in recovery so far: I was able to attempt my first, very awkward journey down a flight of stairs at home this week. The experience was very much one of "let's see if this baby bird can fly when pushed out of the nest." It turns out, I can't fly, but I can "thunk" myself somewhat safely down a flight of stairs, clutching the railings for dear life and treating them somewhat like crutches: bending my operative leg into an eccentric loading position and letting my "normal" leg plop.
Closing out
Unless I change my mind or just drop a few photos from the trip in Vegas, see you in two weeks!
EZ
