#aclprobs

I ran across the street trying to catch a bus with James, all while yelling, "I'm not supposed to be running!" It was exhilarating. As exhilarating as running for a bus in Bed Stuy at 11:45 PM on a Sunday evening can be. 

In retrospect, I feel like my leg is healing quickly. This is good news. There is light at the end of the tunnel. I cannot wait to run. I don't really know if I ever want to play soccer again. (I'm lying - I'll probably be playing on the same field next Spring). 

I miss my dear bike. I cannot believe I haven't ridden since April 26th. 

Two weeks ago, two doctors that I really like drilled a few holes through my knee and threaded the ACL of another human being through said holes. They closed it up with weird science-y dissolvable screws, fixed up my meniscus, stitched me up and wheeled me out of the hospital in Englewood, New Jersey, and sent me back to Brooklyn. 

(Hello! #SurgerySelfie)

I was writing in my journal earlier this week and wrote something along the lines of being happy that I'm having this experience. Not happy that this silly soccer injury caused major knee reconstruction to my meniscus and ACL, but honestly, just grateful for the perspective I've been given since April 26th. 

Having endured so much pain and immobility, I quickly realized that I needed to rely on others and ask for help without hesitation. I had to trust that the people who said, "Let me know what you need" meant it and would come through. I had to push away my pride and my "I'm totally fine face" and cry when I was in pain, even when I had visitors and friends over. This week I had to let confident, put together, always smiling Meghan take a back seat. I was too exhausted and pained to be anything but vulnerable. 

Last Saturday my mom woke up at 6:00 AM and was on the road by 6:30 to come get me. I just couldn't manage it on my own, especially in a cramped Brooklyn apartment. Part of me (the stubborn part) really didn't want her to; I'm 28 and have taken care of myself for the past eight years on my own, I should be able to manage.

The other part was so, so grateful. I sat in the back of the car with my leg propped up, gazing out at the beautiful mid-atlantic country side absolutely exhausted and thankful for a mom who is still willing to rescue her baby.

I can't tell you the last time I've been this still, physically. There was a time 4 years ago that i came down with a stomach virus on a cruise ship and spent 36 hours quarantined to my room, but that hardly compares. 

Being still and stalled has taught me a few things: 

Appreciate, love, and protect my body. Watching my right knee swell up and while rest of my leg shrivels has been really demoralizing. I've always had really athletic legs, especially my calves and my quads, which have now turned into jello. Knowing that I physically can't fix this at this very moment is frustrating, but empowering. I've never valued my health more and can't wait to restrengthen my leg to protect it from future injury. 

People will come through. I was so thankful and in awe of everyone who called/texted/visited/brought over food/flowers/ice. Rarely do I let anyone serve me (I guess I'm stubborn?), and this time I really had no choice. Personally, I show love by serving others, and I had to learn to let others serve and love me in the same way. 

Embrace stillness. Prior to my surgery I was thinking about everything that I wanted to accomplish during my post-surgery recovery period. Read a ton? Paint a bit? Write more? I was so worried that I'd come out of this "down time" with nothing to show for myself. I was focusing on everything except recovering well, which requires lots of stillness and literally taking it day by day. I've been reading some, watching more TV than I ever have, and honestly, just zoning out and letting my mind and body relax. This is the most comfortably uncomfortable I've ever been. 

Your journey is unique. After day 2 post-op, I began reading blogs, forums, and instagram comments, comparing my "progress" to that of others. i read comments of people saying they walked a day after surgery. A day after surgery I couldn't even lift my right leg. I can't even walk yet and I'm two weeks out.  After spending 4 - 5 hours reading everything I could, I just felt dizzy and so dismayed about my "lack of progress." It was 3 AM and exhaustedly I decided that I wasn't going to ready any more progress accounts; if I wanted information on my progress, I'd consult my doctor, physical therapist, and listen to my own body. 

Most of this can be summed up by what my dear friend Rae (she had ACL surgery previously!) texted me a few days after surgery:  

"You just gotta let go - you can't control this. Embrace this experience, there is wisdom in it for you." 

(Leg brace became the ultimate anchor for friendship bracelets)

(Four days post-op - Swollen sausage leg!)

(I set alarms to wake up and take meds to "stay ahead of the pain" oof)

(Mornings at home started with breakfast in bed, aww)

(The ice machine is my dearest friend) 

(Day 11, less swollen, but still sausage-y)

(The Continuous Passive Motion machine - taking my leg on a ride)