I'm back!

After a 9 month hiatus from blogging, I have decided that I'm ready to document a new adventure. For those of you who followed my last blog: Seize the day, you might recall some nagging knee problems that were seriously interfering with all the cool shit I intended to accomplish in honour of my dear friend, Ryan. When I left off, I had been diagnosed with Osteochondrial Dessicans, which basically means that my knee cartilage sucks and wants no part of my knee. It wants to be free to float wherever the hell it chooses. My cartilage is NOT a team player. This came as a complete surprise, as I have always been an active, healthy person, with zero history of any joint pain - and I've always prided myself on being a contributing member of any team. I vaguely recall Dr. M's (my fabulous Orthopedic Surgeon) sobering spiel one year ago regarding the impact this would have on my life. I saw his mouth moving, heard, "Blah, blah, blah, blah," and thought, "You have no idea how awesome I am. This will not negatively affect my life." I was wrong. Boy was I wrong.

The last year has definitely been the most challenging year of my life. I've totalled 4 knee surgeries and been entirely dependent on crutches, braces, or a cane to help me walk. I've also been dependent on a multitude of med cocktails consisting of various narcotics and painkillers to ease the constant pain I've been experiencing and help me through the work day. I spent the last 8 months feeling variations of sadness, fear, anger, and hopelessness. Dr. M scoured the research, consulted orthos across North America and finally presented me with some positive news this spring. Dr. M informed me that I would be a candidate for a very new, relatively experimental surgery: a cartilage transplant. What did I have to lose? Sign me up!

I received the DeNovo live juvenile cartilage transplant on May 17, 2013 - the first in Saskatchewan! Since May 17, I've managed to eliminate most of my "scary" meds (the ones that made me stare off into the distance, drool out of the corner of my mouth, and forget to wear pants) and reduce the other pain medications. Suddenly, it happened. I woke up. It was Monday, May 27. Hubby Evan hugged me tight and proclaimed, "You're back!" Yep. I'm back. Hallelujah. Thank you for your patience. Sorry for any inconvenience this has caused. I am back. So I am now coherent enough to string together full sentences, which means I am ready to start blogging again! Whoot whoot!

I am presently entering my 4th week of non-weightbearing post surgery. I have 4 weeks to go. I then have months and months (perhaps years) of rehab ahead of me. I was in similar physical condition a year ago when I had my first surgery. My attitude; however, is completely different. A year ago, I was pissed off. This was a serious inconvenience. I was impatient, annoyed, and determined to prove to Dr. M that I was an "exceptional" patient who would heal much better than any ortho could predict (recall the letter I wrote to my ortho, persuading him to reduce my rehab time due to my exceptional healing abilities?). On the other hand, I presently feel grateful, patient, calm, and relatively content with my current situation. I fully understand that my job is to heal. Forget work. Forget surfing. Forget running. Forget the unknowns of my future. I am quietly determined to be the most accommodating host to my new donated cartilage. I want the cartilage to take off it's coat and stay a while. Forever would be preferable.

In addition to sharing my current rehab experiences with you, I'm going to share some of my memories from the past year. Now that I am lucid, I am recalling past events - they pop in my head like cheezy flashbacks in a movie. Some of these memories should just be suppressed forever (I mean, who wants to remember waking up on a hospital toilet with their head in a pukey commode liner?), but most of these memories make for interesting stories and are quite entertaining, if I do say so myself. They also make me realize what an awesome support system of friends, co-workers, and family I have. The one major lesson I learned from Ryan and my seize the day experience: the importance of being genuine, will always guide me in my writing. You will be getting 100% Kirstie. There will be good, there will be bad, and there will be ugly. So buckle up your wheelchair, baby. Hop on my walker and come along for the ride...crossing my fingers and toes for a happy ending. 

buckle up your wheelchair, baby