Coming back from winter break this year I got an MRI, discovering I had been playing with a torn meniscus. I tried to play through the pain, but it turns out my pain tolerance was only so high. This is what determined my third knee surgery. At this point, I'm unfazed with the process. I know my way around the hospital. I went to Akron Children's Hospital because they are kind and always give me something to take home like a blanket or a teddy bear. I love this because I am an oversized child. So I sat in the waiting room with toddlers, feeling slightly out of place but my mom promised to get me the softest stuffed animal from the gift shop so that gave me all the affirmation I needed that I chose the right place to get this surgery done.
I don't get nervous. I wait in the hospital room while the nurses take my blood pressure and the surgeon puts a smiley face on the knee I'm going to have surgery on. And I'm smiling because I'm a mature 20 year old getting doodled on at a kid's hospital.
I get wheeled into the room where the surgery is to take place and the anesthesiologist talks me through the drugging process I've been anticipating because all I wanted was a nap since I woke up. The prep team lets me pick the Pandora station I get to listen to for about two minutes before I'm knocked out and we joke around as I get a fat needle in my arm and a mask over my mouth.
I remember fighting it for a second and then giving in because why fight something I've waited so long for?
I wake up and my parents are around me and my mom gives me my stuffed dog I later named Manny because it sounds like Meniscus, at least that's what I tell myself. And then I fall back asleep because those drugs are hard to kick.
I wake up for round two and I'm in a different waiting room and told to get ready to get discharged. My left leg is completely numb so my mom is basically pulling up my pants while I'm still holding a stuffed dog trying to keep my eyes open. They put a wheel chair next to my bed and I had a brilliant plan of taking a step on the leg I couldn't feel and plummet down towards the hospital floor. My mother, the nurse, and man with the wheelchair all caught me and I started laughing because my leg felt like rubber but I was pretty sure I just re-tore everything in my knee.
So I got wheeled out to my car and went home. I took extensive naps that day between visitations and more gifts (mostly chocolate and another stuffed animal, reinforcing I am a child)
(It was a stuffed elephant)
(Her name is Eily)
(And I adore her)
(Her name also has a meaning)
(It means Light)
(Thanks Cara)
So back to my point of coming back from an injury. It's as tough if not tougher mentally as well as physically. I've never been more frustrated in my life than when my body can't work the way a body should work.
I impressed my coaches by walking on my own when I came back.
(It IS impressive)
But I couldn't seem to get past walking for a while. My knee was swollen but it felt normal. Some days I felt like I was doing something wrong because my knee felt fine but I was on the sidelines watching. I felt guilt. But something I hadn't felt before in my past surgeries was a sliver of fear. Fear of not getting back to 100%. Fear of not getting better as a player. Fear of what my teammates and coaches were thinking about me. Fear of losing what I've gained on the court, including a spot. I've made fast recoveries before, but after the third knee surgery, my recovery rate was slowing down with signs of arthritis and a decreased amount of meniscus.
Words came back to me from my surgeon on one of my visits. He told me that everyone thinks ACLs are what players can't return from. But really, it's the meniscus that makes players walk away.
Chills right? Something every athlete wants to hear after their third tear.
Eventually the week before spring break, I returned to the court, limited. I took a couple reps hitting the ball and testing it out. It would be sore and I would take the next practice off. It was a cycle that continued after coming back from break. But then I did too much or my knee didn't respond well because abruptly it felt like it had before surgery but worse; not only was there pain but I couldn't move well. All of a sudden I was limping just to get to class. My fear turned into anxiety as I panicked over my recovery and my limitations. Don't let me fool you, I'm using past tense but this is literally going on in my life as I type. Injuries are common, especially in athletes. So why was I feeling guilt, pressure, and anxiety? Why am I still? I don't like to sit on the sideline, I don't want to see someone working harder than me. But I also don't want to risk my health trying to push something that takes time. Time is my biggest advantage and yet my worst enemy. I put myself on a timeline I don't need to be on because in the past I've healed faster than this, I've done better, I've been stronger. But all I can do is keep pushing, until my body tells me not to. And that's the most frustrating part. Right? Our minds say go but our bodies say stop? And when is it pushing past the pain and when is it just hurting yourself further? Fine lines blur together as I try to figure out my boundaries.
I recently tested my knee out in a spring tournament and it did well so I'm hoping my knee stays on track and I continue to make the most out of my situation. I'm also keeping my sense of humor about it as that is the only thing that keeps me sane.
Injuries are a setback, and that's all I'll ever let it be is a setback. My sport is important but so is my health, so I'll continue to keep pressing on as my body allows.
This blog had a twist right guys? It was kinda funny at first then turned into something serious and maybe almost inspirational? Probably? Accidentally? Not even close Sara just finish the blog?
Ok well I just want all 2 of you to know that injuries suck, but we have to get healthy first and then continue to do what we love. Ok guys? It's not great advice but honestly I'm not a self help coach so take what you get.
Stay healthy,
SS