May 3rd, 2011

I used to trust my body more than my mind.
If I had a bad cold, I still exercised but with moderation.
If I didn't trust a steep incline when hiking, I let my legs find their own way and they never failed me.
I have always respected the limits of my body although I love the feeling of effort and the reward that accompanies it.
So after the ski accident that led to the reconstruction of my ACL and partial reconstruction of my MCL, I trusted my body to recover.
Since I had never had any physical injury and never had surgery before I also had to trust a surgeon and a team of physical therapists.
And I did.
When I saw the surgeon six weeks ago, I told of my worry related to the poor extension of my injured left knee. He reassured me and said it was too early in the recovery process to worry. He prescribed six more weeks of therapy which I followed with diligence and faith.
On top of the two weekly sessions, I biked at home as often as I could, did my exercises with regularity.
I kept telling my physical therapist of my knee that could not fully extend and thus blocked my gait. My PT said it was okay and gave me complimentary exercises to help the mobility.
I suffered through some but never complained.
My goal remained the same: WALK.
I had noticed how my knee and even my big toe became red after being on my feet for a little while. It was also warm under my touch. I was told it was nothing.
I told of my quadriceps that was stretched to the point of discomfort if not pain. My PT said he wasn't concerned with my muscle issues at that point.
I told of being woken up with heaviness and stiffness every night.
I asked if scarring tissues could create this effect.
No, no, he told me.
I asked if ultra sound therapy would be appropriate for me and he said that since I had no evident and significative pain, it was not necessary. Most patients who came with ACL reconstruction had ultra sound treatment at the physical therapy facility I attend.
Everything I asked or told was dismissed and instead I was urged to move the knee and to relax.
The reason behind my issue started to shift toward me, the patient, who was afraid of putting weight, who had taken a bad habit after surgery and wasn't able to correct it.
As if because I was able to perform every exercise with enthusiasm and will, I was not one of the patients who needed much attention.
A weekly massage session was recommended in addition to the twice a week therapy.
I did everything but didn't see the expected results.
I knew something was not right.
Ater all, I know the benefits of hard training and how they show day after day. There was improvement with my knee but not enough compared to the amount of work I was putting in it.
So I tuned back to my body to tell me it was not right.
Again I was in charge.
When I met the surgeon yesterday morning, I knew my body wasn't lying to me.
The set of X rays confirmed that I still have significant inflammation and arthrofibrosis.
In three words: I was right.
The surgeon, soft-spoken and caring as always, prescribed strong inflammatory medicine for five days, promising results.
By then, of course, my level of blind trust had significantly decreased and I asked what would happen if the treatment didn't bring the expected results.
Worst case scenario: opening the knee again to get rid of the scarring tissues obstructing the knee mobility.
A mix of disappointment, anger, worry and relief washed over me.
I was right and my issues had a simple name: inflammation. That was the good news.
The bad news is that the treatment and eventually the cleaning of the knee will delay the already long recovery.
I was angry at the physical therapist for having missed the inflammation and for having convinced me that the reason behind my limited mobility was me and not my knee.
I went to therapy and worked as usual since the surgeon had not required less work out. I felt pain on the elliptical and when I did the stork exercises (standing on the injured leg, slightly bent with maximum weight on the heel). Other than that I was doing fine.
My PT when I was finished told me that since we knew what was the reason behind my stiffness, urged me to spare my knee if in pain.
Funny that only three days earlier he urged me to move that knee and to work on it as much as possible.
I asked about the weekly massage and was told that it doesn't hurt. But does it help?
Today I started my first dose of anti-inflammatory medicine and beg pharmaceutical forces to do their job.
My next physical therapy session is on Friday. By then, I should see an improvement in my knee if the medicine works.
The next surgeon appointment is in three weeks.
I won't wait that long if my knee is not moving as much as I wish.
Morality: challenge authority, take charge of your body. After all this is my knee we are talking about.
And my knee was a big part of my life.
And I intend to keep it that way.