Category: arthoscopic knee surgery

I don’t get it.

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Allow me to vent for a moment…

I’ve had issues with my knee for awhile. I’ve pretty much been banned from running. Having said that, running is the only way I can lose weight. I’ve officially decided.

After my knee surgery in May I started a workout program that lasted 3 weeks. I busted my behind at the gym, doing 45 minutes of cardio, 15 minutes of weights, and 15 minutes of core training five days a week. Husband (who used to be a trainer) modified my workouts based on how my body was responding and how my knee was feeling.

I didn’t lose a single pound. My clothes didn’t fit my body differently AT ALL.

When you’re sweating it out for over an hour a day, the last thing you want to hear is that you’re building muscle and soon it’ll translate to pounds…even though that’s the truth. That damn scale wouldn’t budge. I was beyond irritated.

I started writing Immortal, Beloved and my workouts took a back seat. Until a few days ago. I went for ONE run. ONE LONG MILE RUN. (Though not really so long considering I used to run 5-6 miles a day.) I. Died. My knee throbbed. I couldn’t breathe. I got that familiar hack that follows “out of shape” runners for hours after long runs.

And guess what? The next day, my pants buttoned easier. My shirts were baggier. I’m not joking. One killer run and I lost weight.

I’m not sure my knee is having this new workout program. I may be getting myself into hot water…I’m not sure how to differentiate the “good” pain from the “bad” pain yet…

I can’t help but curse the weight-control gods (is that why it’s called weight-watchers?). How can ONE run make such a huge difference when three weeks of strenuous low impact activity did little?

I don’t get it. I kind of feel like I’m having the “tortoise and the hare race” with myself between what’s “safe” for me to do at a snail’s pace and what I want to happen at a rapid rate, though it hurts me.

I never thought I’d beg to run again, yet here I am. *sigh*

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Hurts so good

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Pain.

That’s the word of the week around here. I’m going through intensive physical therapy on my knee, trying to get the strength back that was there before. I’ve been told by my physical therapist that aching, stretching, pulling pain is good pain. Through some of the exercises I seriously feel like my knee cap is going to explode from pressure. Not pleasant to say the least.

I squirm on the massage table as he bends my knee back to screamingly uncomfortable angles. He’s mentioned putting duct tape over my mouth more than once. In fact, today I think I scared onlookers.

But through the pain I’m getting stronger. The exercises are widening my range of motion. I can walk better–gimp no more! Stabbing pains are a thing of the past. And this is just the beginning. I have two weeks left of therapy and by the time it’s finished I should be ready to rock the EFX machine like I did before.

When I get home from therapy, I dive right into revisions. I’m revising two books, remember. I wish I could show you the edits from Dark Tide Rising. I think there’s more blue “revision needed” ink than black type ink. There’s something inside me that twists and turns in my stomach as I fix the issues present on every page. Will it ever be as good as I want it to be? Will I be able to do the story and characters justice? And will people read it?

The pain continues on a completely different level…

…in the form of uncertainty.

I edit my heart out anyway, knowing if I focus a little more and work a little harder, the story will get stronger.

Just like my knee.

I think I should just get used to pain on all levels. And when I’m completing triathlons and writing bestsellers (hey, I can dream loftily can’t I?–and I can make up words like loftily too!), then the end result will have been well worth the pain needed to get there.

Time to get to editing and remove that band-aid from the manuscript one page at a time!

Where would you go? Who would you be?

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Recovering from knee surgery is rough on the brain. Seriously. There is only so much television you can watch and let me tell you, there’s trashy Court TV on in the afternoons and THAT’S IT! I’ve edited my last manuscript, wrote and edited my query, edited my synopsis, and now I’m back to vegging. I also only have about fifty pages left of JR Ward’s Lover Unbound. It’s deliciously good, but I’m just not in the mood to finish it yet.

All this build up leads me to today’s post. I’m in serious need of brain stimulation. Bear with me.

If you could live in any novel, as any character, where would you live and who would you be? (Oh boy, I hear the Bella’s of the world jumping up and down from here. Quiet, you.)

I thought about this one a lot. My immediate response was Rebecca because Manderley is simply too beautiful not to experience first hand…but who would I be? The murdered wife? The guilty but forgivable husband? The meek and tortured new wife? Or how about the evil, yet somehow sympathetic Mrs. Danvers? As appealing as they are, I’ll have to pass on every one.

Or what about JR Ward’s series The BlackDagger Brotherhood? It would be pretty cool to be protected by those strong and sexy alpha males, that’s the truth…but where’s the fun out of the bedroom? (Not that you’d ever have to leave, of course.)

I think I’m going to choose Harry Potter…any one of the series. Show me one person on the planet who wouldn’t want to live at Hogwarts and I’ll show you a liar. I wouldn’t want to be a pesky muggle or an instructor. (It’s tempting to say I’d like to be Snape or Dumbledore, but Snape’s got too much drama going on bouncing between Good and Evil and Dumbledore has too much responsibility in all that. I’m looking for fun, remember?)

So Hogwarts it is. I’m riding the train, shopping in Diagon Alley, taking wizarding classes and loving every second. And I think out of all the characters, I’d like to be Ginny Weasely. She comes from a stable family whose house brims with love. Okay, they’re weirder than hell, but I bet once you joined the ranks you’d have a blast. And who wouldn’t love to be around her twin brothers for a day?!? I bet they’d make me laugh so hard magic chocolate milk would come screaming out my nose. She’s innocent and cute, separate from the drama plaguing Harry, Hermione and Ron, but still a brave player in the grand scheme.

And she gets the guy. Doesn’t get better than that.

So just for fun, if you could jump into any story, live amidst any pages, where would you chose? And whose shoes would you wear for a bit?

In Good News…

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I’m starting off the morning in a great mood! The bandages come off my knee today! And finally…FINALLY…I’ll be able to move and bend a little bit. The pain is nearly gone with the occasional shooting blast of heat still piercing the inside of my knee from time to time.

I’m sick and tired of watching television. I don’t know how people do it. Being couchbound since Friday has driven me batty. I’d be reading like a madwoman but for some reason (and I think it has something to do with the narcotics given during surgery), my eyes blur after about a page. The headache ensues soon thereafter. It’s a bummer because my To Be Read pile is enormous and not going anywhere.

On another bright note, I assumed my usual position in front of the T.V. this morning, ready for another boring day of old movies like Dumb and Dumber and The Craft.

The last thing I expected to be interested in was The Impact of Bruce Lee on the World…but that’s exactly what I watched while Princess got ready for school. What caught my eye was an interview with Bruce Lee’s wife. Here’s a recent picture.

I don’t mean to be rude, but I kind of expected him to be married to someone who looked like this…

Guess that’s proof opposites attract. (And on a side note Michelle Yeoh is so bad ass.)

I mean, Bruce Lee revolutionized the way KungFu movies would be filmed and viewed FOREVER. He influenced the likes of Jackie Chan and Uma Thurman in Kill Bill. (Did you notice the familiar yellow striped jumpsuit when you watched it the first time? I did. *grin) Though the show kept my interest (especially the part about his wife taking him from Hong Kong and burying him in Seattle–weird), it was the end that had me rewinding my TiVo again and again.

Choice of spouse aside, no one can deny his skills…and the ping pong thing is just too funny!

Do something for me today–get out of the house and do something fun. Take advantage of every minute of today. I wish I could do a hundred things that I simply can’t. Do one for me. *big grin again

Couch-bound

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Day 1 post-surgery: I watched It’s Complicated, Forrest Gump, Judge Judy, UFC, The Unlocked Treasures of Jesse James, The Real Secrets of the DaVinci Code, edited the hell out of my *now finished* manuscript, and listened to music from the Forrest Gump soundtrack on YouTube (because it’s just that good).

Today the TV is off (until the Survivor Finale tonight), and I’ve been listening to all kinds of music on Pandora from the Beatles to Buffalo Springfield to The Fray. Here’s my favorite of the day:

As for my progress, the swelling is down, the pain is a little more intense (now that the surgery meds are out of my system), and I’m tired of being out-of-commission. I’m counting the days until I can be up moving around again…

Surgery Update

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Okay, so I never thought I’d say this (though I prayed about it every day)…

…this surgery is already so much different than the last.

I was admitted to the surgical hospital at 10am then waited in a very cramped pre-op room for Dr. P to pull me back to OR. The place smelled like a putrid mix of stale Simple Green and hand sanitizer. My feet pushed against the bottom of the bed so bad that every nurse who came to check on me asked my height and whether or not I wanted a longer bed. I didn’t want anything. I didn’t even want to be there. (And that was my response most times.) I’d say, “Just get me in and get this thing over with.”

I waited 2 hours, watching patients check in, repeat their medical information for probably the millionth time as I had, then get prepped and wheeled back for surgery. Although I was the first one admitted into the pre-op room, I was the last to leave. Nothing like making an anxious gal wait.
EDITED TO ADD: Although the waiting was horrible, I was smart enough to bring my JR Ward “Lover Unbound” book with me. I read over a hundred pages…and I kept reading until my eyes blurred from the words instead of the drugs. Good stuff.

And even though I was sporting a bright red allergy bracelet, and told every person who crossed my path that I was allergic to the typical anesthetic, when the anesthesiologist came in, he told me that exact medication is what he scheduled. I mean, really?

After he asked a few questions and realized how much of a lightweight I was, he got a weird look in his eye and said, “Well, I guess we’ll figure out something to give you.” Great. Just what I needed to calm my already skyrocketing heartrate.

When I got into the room I was so scared. The monitor behind me was beeping so fast…it wasn’t until an OR nurse came and held my hand, stroking it back and forth, that I realized the beeping was my racing heartbeat. And with the snap of the anesthesiologist’s fingers, I was out like a light.

I woke up an hour later with an oxygen mask on, my knee in ZERO pain, and a ringing in my ears. The surgery lasted twenty-five minutes. Recovery lasted ninety.

Now here I lay, in my bed with my knee wrapped up and iced (and above my heart of course), still in minimal pain. If you want to know how bad the experience was the last time they worked on my knee, just picture the absolute opposite of what I just described. I am so thankful for all the prayer emails and well wishes…they were heard and cherished.

Thank you.