Nothing to fear but fear itself

I have big news. I have turned a corner. Not just a regular street corner. A huge corner. If I was meandering along the yellow brick road, I just caught sight of the Emerald City.

It's difficult to put my feelings into words. It feels bigger than words. So I've attached some pictures of extremely happy animals that might help communicate just how I am feeling.

Get it? It's good. It's a life-changing corner and I now have the clarity to see myself and my journey from a different perspective. I was buried under the fear, pain, and sadness, asking, "Why me?" But it now feels as though I've dug my way out of this nightmare and am finally ready to begin walking away (with a bit of a limp, mind you). I am looking back. I think It's important to look back because I did learn so much. I had no idea that I possessed this much mental and physical strength. I didn't fully realize the extent of Evan's love for me. I didn't appreciate how much I needed and relied on my friends and family, and in turn, just how much my friends and family really do love and care for me.

Although I don't quite know the magnitude of it just yet, this experience has altered my path in life. I was headed in one direction, cruising down the path that I had chosen, the path that I had determined was best for me when I was suddenly slowed to a halt and veered off in a different direction - a direction that I never had any intention or desire of going. It forced me to re-evaluate and re-examine my hopes, my dreams, and my priorities in life. Good or bad, this experience has changed me.

Pretty intense, huh?

First things first though. You may be wondering how my MRI went. You know, the MRI that I completely built up in my mind as a horrifying experience. Seriously Kirstie? How frightening is laying still in a loud tube while your nuclei rotate about? It doesn't hurt at all, and although it's a tight squeeze, there is absolutely nothing to fear. Anyway, I worked myself up into a frenzy and decided to take an Ativan as soon as I arrived at the hospital. When the Tech explained that I would require x-rays first and would not likely begin the MRI for at least an hour, I panicked a bit (Wha? Me? Panic?) - would my Ativan wear off half-way through the test? Yikes. So, I did what any overreactive spazzy pants would do, I took a second Ativan an hour later just as I was entering the tube.

So, needless to say, I was relaxed. I was unset soupy jello relaxed. I may have even enjoyed it. I have no idea. At one point, as Justin Timberlake sang, "I'm bringing sexy back" through my giant headphones, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the obnoxious siren of the MRI machine was actually on beat with Justin.

"I'm bringing sexy back, "   WHAAAAAA    WHAAAAA  WHAAAAA

Brilliant. I giggled happily to myself. Silly MRI.

After an hour, I was almost disappointed when the Tech came in to pull me out of my happy sexy song machine.

Evan met me in the waiting room and it was apparent by the shocked expression on his face that I resembled a crack whore after a bad trip (I actually have NO idea what a "crack whore" looks like).  I wiped the drool from my chin and shuffled into our vehicle, snoring the entire way back to Prince Albert.

I then proceeded to freak out for 2 days. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't focus. I convinced myself that I would never walk again. The longer I went without sleep and food, the stronger the knee pain became. Negative thoughts infiltrated my brain and I found myself laying on the couch, staring at nothing on the television, planning a lonely life of pain, wheelchairs, and surgeries.

And then I heard the news. My Radiologist called to tell me that although Dr. M had yet to review the scan, things looked very good on the MRI. The cartilage transplant looked to be securely in place - a huge improvement from the bleak MRI a year ago, which indicated that my cartilage was falling apart in chunks. The left knee, he explained, did not show signs of Osteochondrial Dessicans (OCD), the disease that I was convinced had destroyed every piece of cartilage in my body. The left knee did show a chronic condition called chondromalacia patella - which basically just means that the cartilage behind my kneecap sucks. Although it causes pain, it is not a precursor to OCD or arthritis. It's just there. It's a non-issue compared to what I was dealing with in the right knee. It would; however, be a source of pain that I would have to learn to live with.

My initial reaction was not, "Right on! that's great!" (As one would expect).  My first reaction, strangely enough, was to cry - for about 8 hours or so. "This can't be right," I sobbed, "I feel pain. My knee hurts. Something is wrong. Am I crazy?"

I had the weekend to process the news before I would meet with Dr. M on Monday to discuss. Slowly, as time passed over the next 3 days, my thoughts and feelings began to shift. Once I could attribute the pain to something real and identifiable - chondromalacia patella, knowing that I was not, indeed, falling apart as I had imagined, nor was I imagining the pain, the pain began to dissipate. I stopped taking painkillers every 4 hours and realized that although I could feel pain, the pain was not indicative of a degenerating knee, riddled with disease.

On Sunday night, I met with my BFF, the lovely Janna, who has suffered through her own nightmare of health issues over the past 2 years. Janna was diagnosed with Crohn's disease following the birth of her baby. My buddy has been through the wringer and the disease presently appears to be under control with a new med regime. Janna is looking fabulous and finally feeling healthy again. Although Janna and I have completely different health issues, we share a lot of similar feelings and fears. We talked about how unfair it was that 2 strong women be afflicted by life-altering health issues at such a young age... but we also discussed a positive experience that we both share as a result of what we've been through. We both feel that our experiences have forced us to to slow down and really appreciate those little moments in life - those small seemingly insignificant moments where you stop and think, "Right now - life is good." When Janna hears her little guy laugh, she stops and processes how sweet it sounds. When Evan predictably kisses my forehead every morning, I am consciously aware of how much I am loved. The ability to be in the moment is an amazing gift that we've been given.

I began to feel like I was ready to move on.

The next morning Dr. M went through my MRI with me in amazing detail - not only were my images displayed on all of his computer screens, but he had props - text books, line drawings, and elastics to illustrate everything that my MRI indicated. I'm surprised that he didn't act out the MRI, stretching himself out like the ligaments in my knee!

When we looked at the pictures of my cartilage transplant sitting firmly - exactly where it should be, it finally occurred to me how unbelievably fortunate I am. My knee was a mess. This man took a chance on me - I was a guinea pig of sorts - I was the first recipient of a juvenile cartilage transplant in Saskatchewan - and it worked! Because of Dr. M and this gift of cartilage, my quality of life has been greatly improved..and will continue to improve as my muscles get stronger and my confidence increases.

Dr. M told me that it was time to stop being afraid. He gave me the green light to move forward with my life.

I could say a million wonderful things about Dr. M. He's a brilliant, compassionate, confident, committed, progressive Doctor. But he's so much more than that. Many brilliant, confident surgeons would have taken one look at me and told me that nothing could be done. Simply put, Dr. M is a kind human being who saw another human suffering and decided that he could make a difference. I feel strongly that I did not meet Dr. M by accident. Our paths crossed for a reason and he's made it clear that he feels the same way. We have both learned from this experience and from each other. This man, who was once was a stranger I passed in the hospital hallway, has become an important part of my life journey. I will always hold a special place in my heart for this "fellow traveller" who has taught me so much about myself and this unpredictable journey called life.

Although I am not a huggy, cuddly person (at all!) when I stood up to leave Dr. M's office, I hugged the bejeezus out of him. I squeezed him as tight as I could and I did not want to let go. I don't really know how to express my great appreciation to him, but as he squeezed me back, I knew he understood what I was trying to convey. When I did finally let go, as cliche as this sounds, I felt myself letting go of all my fears. I don't need to be afraid anymore. The fear has literally been paralyzing...but it's time to let go and move on. I am ready. I have a lot of hard work ahead of me but this chapter is closed. As we released our embrace, I said goodbye, limped down the hall, exited the Orthopedic Department and felt an overwhelming sense of freedom.

Why you should take me on your next vacation

I'm not gonna lie, I've been feeling pretty down the last few weeks. I'm generally a pretty happy, upbeat person, but I do feel like I'm wavering on the edge of "mildly"depressed (Can you be mildly depressed?) In my mind, it's a difficult thing to diagnose and I don't want to trivialize depression. I think people are quick to say, "I'm depressed," without fully understanding what depression really is. I've always thought of depression as a chemical imbalance in the brain - not necessarily triggered by an event. It sounds like a horrible thing to me - feeling "down" without really knowing why. The brain is not releasing the neurochemicals the way it's supposed to. How frustrating. I think that the feelings I have, on the other hand, are different. I'm sad because my knees suck. I'm sad because I'm constantly in pain and I can't do the activities that I enjoy doing. Right now, I'd settle for simply being able to walk. My feelings of sadness are directly linked to something shitty in my life. However, I am aware that this low mood could quickly translate into a full-blown depression. I'm cognizant of that and am totally receptive to considering medication that will help my brain produce more happy chemicals. Did you know that there is also research that shows that anti-depressants can increase the release of neurotransmitters that decrease pain signals in the brain. Plus, when you're happy, you are better equipped to deal with stress in your life. So, I'm keeping an eye on things, monitoring how I'm feeling, and maintaining an open mind. Feeling depressed/sad/whatever is nothing to be ashamed of, nor is asking for help when you're not coping well on your own.

On a brighter note, I just returned from a very uplifting, mood-boosting, laughter-filled vacation in the Okanagan. God that place is beautiful. The scenery alone is enough to melt all your worries away - add endless wine samples, ideal weather, and good friends and you have the perfect recipe for happiness.

I  found that I am quite a useful accessory on any vacation. Although my present disabled state sucks ass, there are some benefits, you know. First off, the parking is unreal. We basically parked on the grapes at each and every vineyard we visited. Not only is the parking for handicapped folks very conveniently placed, but those spots are massive. You could park sideways and no one would blink an eye, "Oh, look at that poor girl on crutches. Bless her for parking sideways." In addition to exceptional parking, navigating crowds is actually much easier on crutches. Anyone ever try wandering around Banff on a busy weekend? It sucks. People step on you as they strive to capture the perfect picture of a moose in a mounty hat on their iPad. They slam shop doors in your face. People are assholes. Not if you're pathetically shuffling on crutches. These assholes suddenly have a heart and will actually clear a path for you. They run ahead and say, "Let me get that door for you." People seem to genuinely want to make your life easier. It restored my faith in humanity, actually. It's often followed by a 10 minute explanation of, "this one time when I broke my leg..." but whatevs. People love to share tales of misery.

I also managed to score our group a free breakfast at a pro golf tournament. Yep, I'm that good.

Crutching pitifully through the lobby of our hotel, I inquired about the complimentary breakfast for hotel guests.

"You can take the elevator upstairs dear," responded the woman at the front desk sympathetically (everyone speaks to me sympathetically. I'm getting used to it. I've been on and off crutches for a year and half now. I've decided to embrace and milk the sympathy. Why not?)

As I exited the elevator, it was immediately apparent that a ladies golf tournament was taking place at our resort that day. Women sat behind tables, signing in golfers as they entered the restaurant.

"I'm assuming you're not golfing, hon?" asked a woman sympathetically. See? Everyone is sympathetic.

"No, I'm just looking for breakfast," I responded.

The woman pointed me in the direction of the restaurant where a buffet of eggs, bacon, pancakes, and every breakfast food imaginable sat.

Expecting the typical continental breakfast of cereal and muffins, I was immediately taken by the extent of the hotel's breakfast. I went to work filling my plate with all the fixings and chowed down as I waited for my crew to meet up with me.

When my buddies arrived, they marvelled at the complimentary buffet and went to work on their breakfast.

Eventually a waitress stopped at our table and in a hushed tone stated, "This breakfast is actually for the ladies in the pro golf tournament today. Our hotel complimentary breakfast is over there," She gestured toward a wall with cereal and muffins. The waitress then glanced at my crutches and giant pink knee brace, and smiling (sympathetically, of course) said, "But it's fine. Enjoy. Just so you know for next time..."

OMG. How embarrassing. Well, I was embarrassed. My entourage, on the other hand, was ecstatic.

"We scored an awesome free breakfast! Yay for Kirstie and her sad little crutches!"

See. I am useful. Everyone should bring a crutching friend on vacation with them. Guess what? I'm on crutches - pick me! Pick me!

My MRI is set for tomorrow. They will be taking pictures of both knees. I'm nervous and anxious to see why I'm experiencing so much pain. Let's be honest - I'm kinda terrified - terrified of the actual MRI experience as well as what the pictures will show. If they show nothing then why am I having so much pain? If they show bad shit then what does that mean for my future? More surgery? Ugh. Cringe. Puke in my mouth. I've decided to take an pre-MRI Ativan this time. Anyone remember how I totally freaked out at my last MRI? Ya, that wasn't so good. Wish me luck. $5 says I score a sweet parking spot at the hospital :)

hmmm....something tells me this b'fast isn't "complimentary"

this is how rock stars tour the vineyards - no biggie

Life is good

Ya it is.

Can we tour 1 more vineyard? Pleeeease. 

My body is NOT a wonderland

You know that lovely song by John Mayer, "Your Body is a Wonderland"?? That song sucks. It's stupid. It's making me really angry right now. Screw you John Mayer and your stupid song.

I'm so completely frustrated with my body. I've always worked hard to maintain it - I've prided myself on working out regularly and although I don't follow any particular diet or special way of eating, I definitely try to make healthy choices. I have always been satisfied with my body - not just aesthetically, but I've always been proud of my strength, balance, and endurance. Typically, I would tell my body to do something and it would just do it.

"Body, you're going to figure out how to do a handstand push-up. Go!"
 "No problem, buddy. Watch this!"

Where did that body go, dammit? Now when I look at myself in the mirror I see a body that is not mine - I mean it looks like mine. I can do sit-ups and push-ups until I'm blue in the face, and sure, I look decent in a bikini, which is great for Facebook, right? - but what's the point if I can't do anything with this body? It seems to have a mind of it's own. It doesn't listen to me. It's defiant. I feel like I'm rapidly losing control. Like a parent of a wayward teenager, I've tried to calm it down and love it, but sometimes (like right now), I kinda hate it. The worst part is that I can't get away from it. I would love a vacation from it for just one day, but everywhere I go, it seems to follow me. Stop following me! So annoying.

In the past two weeks, my left knee has deteriorated rapidly. We came to a standstill last week in the Winners parking lot when left knee completely gave up on life at the front mall entrance.

"Dammit left knee, the car is like 10 feet in front of us. Just make it to the car!"

"Nope. I'm done. It's over. You can't expect me to carry you forever. "

SHIT.

After two days of complete and total left knee protest (Read: PAIN!),  I contacted Dr. M and told him Que sera sera wasn't cutting it anymore. He agreed to see me immediately. Why? Because he rocks, that's why. Back on two crutches, I pathetically shuffled into his office.

"Where shall we start?" he sighed, "How about pre-birth? Were you a difficult pregnancy?"

Haha. I actually smiled for a good half a second.

For two hours we talked. I cried. He listened. He talked. I listened. We may have deciphered the meaning of life...we solved some of life's greatest mysteries, I'm sure of it. Then we decided that an MRI was an appropriate move at this time.

So now I'm just waiting for that MRI. I don't really feel a sense of urgency. If it shows what I think it might show, I highly doubt I'll be a candidate for surgery anytime soon - at least until the right knee can take over duties for a while. Maybe it's better not to know? Perhaps it's just suffering from exhaustion - you know, like a rockstar on tour. It just needs a good break...it's like Britney Spears in 2007...and If Brit can get through 2007 in one piece, then so can this fricken knee (if you spot me with a shaved head, trying to smash people with umbrellas, you'll know exactly what's happening)  :)