Firsts

This week was a breakthrough on firsts for me. I have had a mental block on a few things, some super random, some not.

Walking unassisted is a clear front runner in this one. Just being able to do it, is nice

This week, I put on the jewelry I was wearing during the accident. Not because I was wearing it then but because I pretty much always wear the same jewelry. I wear the diamond earrings my mom gave me for my 21st birthday. I wear the silver ring I bought in Dingle, Ireland on a trip with my nurse and amazing friend Christina. I bounce around on necklaces, but I had been wearing my Grandma Ting's lucky necklace. It is gold, has a Jade clover and a cursive gold M. I only wear this necklace in March, because of St. Patrick's Day and Ting's birthday is March 18. For some reason, I had kept it on longer in the month than usual. I think I know why now. A few weeks ago, my mom asked me if I wanted my jewelry and I said no. I don't know why I didn't want it on, but I didn't. The poor stuff was in a Urine sample cup (it was the only thing with a secure lid in the Trauma unit). I hadn't even taken it out since the accident. So, now I have my earrings back in and my ring on. No necklace yet because I knew I would have to take it off for the MRI I had today.

This week, I used my blow dryer for the first time too. I have no freaking idea why I waited 12 weeks to blow dry my air, but I did. I was remind how much I need a haircut and color, but also how much I like my hair when it is dried with a dryer. Next stop, finding some reason to flat iron my hair!

Sweeping and vacuuming. I swept a few days ago and again today. I think being home so much makes me so much more aware of what the floors are like. That, and I am barefoot 95% of the time now. I vacuumed for the first time today. It was downright liberating. I loved it. And now I am just fine going back to having someone else do it, although something tells me I am screwed having just said I can do it.

Last night at my twelve week celebration, I walked to the bathroom alone and without a crutch. That felt pretty amazing, especially when all my friends were surprised, and proud of me.I walk at home quite a bit, but no one is watching me. I kind of feel obligated to start with, I am getting up and going to walk, without a crutch, and I'll be okay. Just so no one jumps up to help me (which does happen). :)

I have had a lot of firsts, but those are this week. Some more firsts I am looking forward to:
1. Wandering stores alone
2. Driving to anywhere alone
3. Going down the stairs without a crutch
4. Going up the stairs without a crutch (two items because they probably won't happen together)
5. Sitting on the ground without using the wall or furniture to get there
6. Working out
7. Going for a walk . . . and later a run
8. Getting off the toilet without holding onto the counter
9. Carrying more than 10 lbs of anything
10. Being spontaneous on anything

Here's to more firsts.

10 steps forward, 2 steps back . . . and a pain in my butt

Two weeks ago, I got news I wasn't really expecting. The knee surgeon I finally got in to see, wants me to have surgery. I kind of went just to check it off my list, assuming they'd agree with all other general opinions - that no surgery would really help me. Much to my surprise, I ended up at a doctor who is known for his research in young female athlete patella dislocations. He has a new procedure that has been really successful and thinks (pending an MRI) that I am the perfect candidate.

Timing wise, it is perfect. My pelvis is on its way to being truly healed (that magical 12 week mark) and that would time perfect with my knee surgery, which wouldn't have any weight bearing restrictions, just bending restrictions. So, I submitted the paperwork to get an MRI and said I would hear from them shortly to get one scheduled (one L&I approved it). Two weeks later, I am still waiting for the awful front desk staff at this doctor's office to even contact L&I. Yes, I have called and been blown off, saying it takes time. You'd think the hold up would be my case manager at L&I, but its not.

So I haven't really talked about the surgery, because at the rate I am going, it could be years before I get in. I exaggerate, but I think this delay, also has me delaying my excitement at being "healed" because I know that I am probably going back down again. Eventually. Bottom line, I am frustrated with this office (Bellevue Bone and Joint Physicians, for those curious about a place you should never expect any sort of customer service ever). I wish this doctor wasn't the best at what he does. I wish he wasn't a runner and understood what I want to be doing again soon. But he is and I feel he is the best choice.

On the flip side, I am making ridiculous progress in physical therapy. I feel like every time I go, my PT is amazed at one thing or another that I can do. I am really good about speaking up when something hurts or feels strange. Sadly enough, a lot of the pain is in my stupid knee that is waiting for surgery. My other pain, is in my butt. No, seriously. My Gluteus Medial is giving me a hard time about walking. My limp is mostly due to tightness deep in my glute.

By the way, pelvis breaks are personal. I never "really" thought about it but now that I have to explain where things hurt, it can be awkward. My groin hurts, what in the heck can we do about that? My glute hurts . . . want to dig your elbow in and make me feel better? Just awkward and open to suggestions.

Another area of progress is having started seeing a chiropractor and massage therapist for headaches. I haven't had a real headache in weeks, and already am able to scale back how often I need to go to the chiropractor. I was always weary of the chiropractor. I told the guy when I went, that I had never been before because I thought he could crack my neck, like they do in James Bond movies, and kill me. He said it would be a bad business model to kill patients, and laughed at my humor. Luckily, I have gotten used to the cracking, and I am still alive. We haven't touched anything near my pelvis, that remains off limits.

Now, I am off to wait for the darn doctor office to call me back.

Independence

This post was hard for me to write as I found myself jumping all over the place. The last few weeks have been the emotional part of healing, which in my opinion is the hardest part. Early on, my situation was just what it was. I found it pointless to be upset by the situation, because it wouldn't get me anywhere and it certainly wouldn't help my healing to be upset. 12 weeks is a long time to fret about what happened, so why bother. VERY early on, I said the "novelty" of my injury would wear off and after week six or so, I predicted that I would have a lot fewer visitors and probably a lot less help.

I have never been great at asking for help. I don't want to inconvenience anyone. I want to try to do it myself. I think that is a natural reaction for someone who pretty much does every thing on their own. I am good at asking some people and not so great at asking 95% of people. I can't really explain the reason why, it just is. Maybe because I feel like everything I ask for will eventually need to be reciprocated, and there are a few people who I know that will happen with, and others, I worry about how to thank people.

As someone who is and always has been very independent, this has been a very unique experience for me. I was essentially forced to rely on others to do things (EVERYTHING) for me. I assumed that as soon as I had a glimpse at independence, I would take it and "run." Interestingly enough, I have had quite the opposite reaction. How do I behave? Everyone expects me to be the same Brianna I was 3 months ago, but I am not so sure I am. I don't have a desire to drive at all. I am extremely jumpy when I am in a car.

Now, as I am walking some (not all the time, just so you know), driving some (not even close to all the time) and able to do more for myself; I am more scared than ever. I think I am scared that despite my progress, I still do need help, some physical, but a lot of emotional help. My job is very social, and therefore, I have always appreciated my downtime at home. Now that I am home all the time, I crave social interaction more than ever. Additionally, because I am not actually driving yet, I rely on others to get me out and bring me things.

The kind of help I need is the kind where someone just comes and watches TV with me, or takes me to lunch to get me out and chatting or helping with the few things I shouldn't do (vacuuming, taking the garbage or recycling out, for example). I find asking for companionship is even harder, because there isn't a "reason" and often I just want to be normal again. Sometimes I don't want to talk about my progress, I just want to hang out. I want to do normal stuff, but I am just not quite there yet. So close, yet so far.

Walking and the looming 12 week mark

I remember when the doctors at Harborview casually explained my recovery timeline. No weight-bearing on my right side for 8 weeks, starting walking at 8 weeks or so, it'll take about 4 weeks to relearn how to walk and you should be good to go at 12 weeks. Bam! Healed, just like that.

I also recall every medical professional I have seen (doctors, physical therapist, chiropractor, my crazy in home nurse, etc) tell me I am healing faster than most and am lucky to have been in such good shape at the time of my accident. 

Sitting here at 11 weeks, I find those conversations much more meaningful. First of all, it doesn't just happen. It is not like at 8 weeks, everything just worked. I went for a check up at Harborview at the 7 week mark and was actually cleared early to begin the process of walking. I would move from my walker to crutches and increase weight bearing by 25% each week. First of all, figuring out what 25% of my weight is, was bizarre. I purposefully hadn't weighed myself during this time, as to not get upset. I had worked really hard leading up to this accident to lose weight, eat healthy and workout; and didn't want the number on the scale to discourage me. 

I have still been consistent about doing my at home exercises, which still in itself shocks me. I like going to physical therapy, I see progress and get kudos for my progress. Like a little gold star on my imaginary chart. I'm doing the work and its paying off. I eventually dropped to two crutches outside, one while at home. Last week, I dropped to one crutch home and away. Crutches are kind of like protective gear, it helps people see that I am injured and to give me some space. Some people. I would argue that the majority of society is oblivious and rude when it comes to people with crutches, walkers, etc. we are wider, we need some space and we are probably nervous you'll forget 10 seconds after we said excuse me, and you'll back into me. And if I'm walking with crutches, don't hand me a pen and then get impatient while I figure out what to do with them to sign something. Seriously.  Maybe I should start an etiquette class . . . On life and not being rude.

Any who, I digress. Despite making lightning progress, according to my PT, I feel like, because of the darn agenda of healing I was given, that because I couldn't walk around like a normal person at 11 weeks, I'm behind. I'm not behind. I wall and furniture surf, often just walking near to feel like I have the support, but not actually touching it. I'm walking. I'm limping, but I'm walking. My knee is weak and it makes walking hard. I can't believe one PT said they couldn't help my knee until I had weight bearing status. I wouldn't be able to stand if I hadn't been working on my leg.

Learning to walk again is a strange experience. You assume it is physical, which to some degree it is, but it is way more mental. Mental walking. As I approach 12 weeks, it is interesting to think back to week one and what I was told I would be able to do, and what I am doing. That boggles my mind. Boggles.