PT or: The Crying Game
These first few posts will be an overview of how I got to where I am today. After that I’ll take a deeper dive into specific times and adventures and see what I can unearth. If I’m feeling it, I may even come back and link those to the proper spots in these overview posts.
The scar is still there 15 years later.
I’d had the surgery, and then been instructed to not move the leg for a week. I iced it and kept it as immobile as I could. It was an interesting week for sure, sleeping on my sofa and not doing much of anything. I was fortunate to have friends and family drop by to check on me periodically. But, even a forced vacation must come to end end. It was time to begin my recovery with physical therapy.
I remember showing up the first time after not moving for a week and the PT telling me that now I HAD to move. It took some major brain flips to get me on board with that. My leg was stiff and still in pain and I couldn’t see how I’d ever move it again.
It also looked about half as big as my right leg, like all the muscle had just gone away. I was later told this is what happens after a major surgery, it’s a defense mechanism of sorts from your body. Whatever it was, I didn’t like it.
I had been told the reason I’d had “runner’s knee” in the first place was because my quad muscles were not strong enough and my knee was doing most of the work for my leg. Instead of tension coming from my quad to move my leg, my patellar tendon was doing the work and getting pulled way too tight and eventually getting a tear. And now I was looking at a left leg with virtually no quad muscle and told I had to change this. It seemed impossible.
Also seemingly impossible was being told to pedal a stationary bike all the way around. I could push down to a straight leg, and flex up to a bent knee, but I couldn’t get the knee all the way up to where I could make a full circle on the pedal. It hurt and was too stiff to move. Or so I thought. I did my best the first time.
Two days later I had my next session and was told I had to do a full pedal or rehab was not going to go well. The knee joint had to get loosened and start recovering its range of motion and the longer I waited, the longer it would take. The PT told me to try it backwards instead of forward. It still got stuck before I made it to a completely bent knee. But, he insisted and somehow I pushed through a full pedal. The jolt of pain I felt was as intense as any I’d ever experienced. I thought for sure I’d re-injured the knee. But the PT made me pedal again. I’m not sure I’ve ever hated anyone as much as I hated that man in that moment. But this time the pain wasn’t quite as bad, and the next time I barely felt it. But I did feel a release and opening in the knee joint! It was amazing. And from that point my PT could have told me to do anything and I’d have trusted him and done it. Except take a prescription. That wasn’t happening again.
It was a slow process, but I gradually began to strengthen the leg. I bought a bike and began to cycle around as much as I could stand. I went to the Y and did strength exercises and running motions in the pool. I walked as much as I could. But it was months before I could start a feeble attempt at running.
When I made my first running attempt, it was painful and awkward. I had no balance and no stamina. I think I ran 100 feet. But I tried again the next day and made it maybe 120 feet. It was progress for sure, but my goal of playing ultimate again was still many months away. And a new challenge was about to rear its ugly head, a mental quagmire that had been building and would prove more debilitating than any physical injury I’d ever sustain.
