So today I went back the the orthopedic surgeon and we’ve decided to get the ball rolling and schedule the first surgery to reconstruct my right knee.
October 12 will be the day.
I hate planning for this, because never is a good time. There’s always something that makes me want to wait… School starting, volunteer commitments, a neurologist appointment, a weekend vacation booked, my kids’ birthdays, my parents coming to visit… I decided on the Wednesday after our weekend vacation that I planned for my daughter’s birthday a long time ago. We’re going to the beach, and I don’t want to deal with crutches in the sand. My son’s birthday will be right after the surgery, and I would’ve loved to have waited until after his celebrations, but it’s more practical to do it before since I’ll have the help of my parents longer. They are visiting for 3 more weeks after the 12th. If I wait then I’ll have less time help. At the other hand, I feel horrible to burden my folks with the care of me and the kids when they save up all their money and time off, to vacation here in the States! Of course I’ve talked this over with them prior to scheduling the surgery, and they don’t mind, but I still feel really bad.
Today when I walked out of the surgeon’s office, the tears started rolling down my cheeks. It’s so stupid. I knew this is what I was walking in for, yet it didn’t really hit me until I received all the instruction papers. Luckily my husband accompanied me this time, and he gave me a good hug. He drove me straight to Starbucks, and the coffee made me feel better. Lol.
These last weeks I’ve had the urge to cry so many times, but I can’t. I don’t know if I’ve ran out of tears, or if I subconsciously know it isn’t going to make a difference.
I went to the second opinion orthopedic surgeon last Thursday, and he agreed with the course of action of the first doctor. I’m going back next week to schedule the surgery. I’m ready for it now, mentally. I want to get it over with already! Lol. Depending on the expected immediate recovery period, I’ll probably wait until my parents are here to help us in October. It’s not that long from now.
All I want to do is go outside, somewhere beautiful, and have a fun Sunday with the kids and my husband. Instead I’ve been in bed all day, dealing with pain. My husband is amazing though, bringing me food and drinks, and keeping the kids out of my room. I’ve wasted this whole day and let the pain win. I hate myself for it.
A few years after my car accident, my dad and I were at a court doctors’ appointment and they had previously done extensive testing at several specialists to determine the validity of my headache… I was looking forward to this appointment because I assumed I would get test results and answers. After these (3) court appointed doctors were done questioning me, they sent me into the waiting room with my dad and we just sat there for a while until the main doctor walks in and says they have discussed my case and they have no further questions, so we were dismissed… I looked at him and say “what about me headache?” and he looks straight at me at says “That’s something you’re going to have to learn to live with.” I couldn’t believe my ears! I was about 19 years old, and went through hell and back in the past 2 to 3 years. The last thing I wanted was looking forward to pain for the rest of my life! I broke down ,sobbed, and my dad was trying to get answers. The doctor told him there wasn’t really any proof that the headache existed, besides the fact the one MRI showed small cracks in my brain tissue from the severity of the concussion.
After that I saw another neurologist who prescribed me some medicine, and he told me if those meds didn’t work, no modern medicine would ever work on me. So far he’s been right…. It took me a long time to pursue relief because of this though. I have no hope that anything will work, and because every time I try something new, I get reassured that nothing will make the headache go away. It drains me. Because no matter how much I’m trying to tell myself I not keeping my hopes up, in the back f my head is always the little “what if”, what if this is the magic solution? And because nothing seems to work, I get disappointed. Each and every single time I get reminded of that moment in the waiting room, with my dad. I’m really going to have to learn and live with it. After 19 years, that still seems like an impossible task, yet I’ve been doing it. Somehow I’m still here.