Back with a quick update after my last post. I caught up with my consultant on 1 April (hopefully not an April Fool) and chatted through the progress since my last appointment, or more the lack of. We've agreed that, while his advice will likely be the same either way, we'll go ahead and get another MRI done so we can assess the damage properly and discuss the various options based on facts rather than speculation. Hopefully then we'll be able to put a concrete plan in place, knowing the true limitations or otherwise, and work out what a good outcome looks like from there.
All in all, I left feeling more constructive than after my last appointment and I don't think that was entirely down to the fact I was heading straight off on holiday for a week and was therefore demob happy (the first quarter of 2017 has been a rollercoaster on several fronts, so to say I was looking forward to getting away from it all for a while would be something of an understatement!)
While I was away, I managed to get the MRI appointment booked in and also a physio update when we'll assess where I'm at and talk through (and hopefully sort) the insurance issues, so hopefully things will move forward more quickly now I'm back.
Having spent the last week largely trying to forget about everything, there have been a few moments where the knee has (literally) been a pain, so I'm going to blog them, more as a record for me to assess progress against than anything.
Driving and an impending mid-life crisis
The drive down to Cornwall took around four hours - the longest I've driven since I damaged my knee again in January - and the knee was steadily more uncomfortable as the journey went on. Usually, I'd split the driving with my husband but, seeing as he'd had shoulder surgery at the start of the week, that wasn't really an option and, just as he is now conceding that our Audi is more comfortable than his Seat (he's always preferred cars set up for a firmer, sporty ride that allows you to fling them round corners), I will admit that, for the first time ever, the idea of an autobox for our next car began to sound appealing. The idea of an automatic car came up last year when I had the revision ACL surgery (we'd had access to an automatic for a couple of weeks the first time I had the surgery done, which allowed me to get back on the road quicker than I otherwise would have done) and I fought it all the way. I've always maintained you can't DRIVE an automatic, it drives you (and I like driving!) but maybe, just maybe, I'm beginning to see the appeal.
Rocky beaches
We've had a glorious week in Cornwall visiting various sandy beaches but why, oh why, do they all have a sea of rocks you have to cross to get from the pavement onto the beach itself?
Every beach we've gone to, I've had to navigate climbing across these - otherwise known as ACL hell or proprioception central, depending on the mood - trying to guess which rock isn't going to shift the moment I step on it and dodging anything that looks remotely wet and slippery. What larks! Mostly all safely navigated except one set when the toddler decided she needed the loo (back in the carpark) and my husband was half way along the beach looking at rocks (the perils of being married to a geologist). Navigating rock channels while carrying a 15kg toddler on one hip turned out to be a step too far and I had to give up and phone him to come and pick her up while I picked my way across in their wake. Rubbish.
Toddler chasing
As I've mentioned in earlier posts, one of the things I hate most about the current situation is not being able to run around after my little girl and join in with her when she's chasing around, hopping, jumping etc.
We had some really good days out at National Trust properties, beaches and parks so she could run around and let off steam but, with my husband out of action with his shoulder, that really left her with no-one to join in properly.
She appears to be taking after her mother in getting a little competitive from time to time (a fact I've been ruthlessly exploiting whenever we need to get her moving by turning it into a race, which she inevitably wants to win), but to make that convincing, you really need someone to race against.
Feeling guilty while visiting Llanhydrock, I decided to attempt to join in running down the hill to the gardens as she was getting tired and slowing down to a snail's pace. Let's just say that it lasted about 10 'strides'. A tortoise would have been quicker and infinitely more elegant than this particular peg leg!
Follow that up with shooting pains in the knee after I played 'tag' with her in the pub garden on Saturday (me power walking rather than running to get away from her) and I suspect that maybe, I should just live with the guilt of not joining in for now.
Surfing
Glorious weather meant lots of beach days, which was great. Some decent swell also brought lots of surfers out to make the most of it and we enjoyed watching their efforts - good and bad - from our beach towels on the shore. The toddler has now announced that she wants to surf (as well as ski - thanks to her nursery friend for telling her all about that one) and I've told her that one day she'll be able to. Now, it's a long time since I've surfed - I could just about get to my feet but not much more than that last time I tried - and I'd love to have another go with her but right now, the concept of pushing up onto my knees, then crouching and standing up on a moving surface brings me out in more of a cold sweat.
Which brings me on to...
...mind games and lowering expectations
Reading my twitter timeline while stuck on the M5 heading home, I came across this tweet:
From experience first time around, that's certainly true - I remember being asked to hop on to a box on my ACL leg and looking at my physio as though he was mad, before trying it on the other leg, just to remind myself it was a perfectly simple request for most people.
I'm generally pretty good at working with my subconscious and playing mind games with myself to get where I need to be, but I can already feel myself starting to back away from certain activities and lower my expectations of what I'll be able to do once I'm fit again, particularly since the 'here we go again' incident in January.
So, for the record, depending on the outcome of the next MRI and treatment plan we set out after that, I'm tiering my goals: Tier one - the most basic activities I want to be able to do; to Tier three - things I can't do yet/haven't done for a while but would like to learn/get back to.
Tier 1 - Kneel up, swim, wear high heels, chase after my little girl, run (10k), kick a football, do handstands/cartwheels
Tier 2 - Surfing, skiing, trampolining, dancing
Tier 3 - Play tennis, learn Capoeira, Circus skills, gymnastics/tumbling
Let's see where we end up...