Knee Replacement.....The Struggle is Real
By Patricia White

I knew about six years ago that my knees were going south on me, faster than new meds were being developed to treat them. A total knee replacement was not an option for me at that time as far as I was concerned. For several years I had regular steroid injections as well as Synvisc injections. I would ask my Doc each visit if he thought my really bad knee was ready for the next step. He always shook his head and said, "not just yet." I'd ask if it was really a big deal. He always said, "Yes, it's a big deal." At least he was honest.

We were just coming off a good year of being back on the tennis courts, Zydeco dancing every Friday night at Swampy's, our favorite watering hole/restaurant, water aerobics, gym workouts and even a little Pickle Ball at the Y with the old gummers. I think the Pickle Ball was what did me in. The final curtain came down on my knees. 

After two scopes and a micro-fracture, there was still not much improvement in my worst knee. I became sedentary way ahead of my time.  I worked with a trainer twice a week for a year. My goals were to keep my knees moving and to avoid replacement at all cost. The extra exercise was giving me back, hip and ankle problems so I quit everything. After a year of hobbling around with a cane, being dropped off at the door of every place we went, I just kind of quit doing most things. I became an arm-chair shopper and saved all my energy for cooking and doing simple things around the house. I felt like life was passing me by. It was decision time.

I went back to my ortho only to learn that he was no longer doing knees.  But, he said that his associate was a highly trained and skilled surgeon, recruited from California, and was doing the latest and greatest new MAKOPLASTY, robotic assisted surgery. That info gave me a real sense of assurance somewhere between, OK, let's do this and run like hell!!! With much urging from all my peeps, I scheduled an appointment and went for a consultation. In a fog of information and anxiety, I heard someone setting up a surgery date and suddenly realized it was me. I was on auto-pilot. Surgery was set for one month out and it would take that long to complete all the assigned tasks, x-rays, meetings, etc. Well, one month was way too long to have to think about the things I knew they would do to me. And if I heard correctly from well-meaning friends, with tools from the woodshed. Besides all those crazy thoughts, a new problem developed. My ankle on my good leg gave out completely, necessitating a steroid injection which moved surgery out another month. I prayed daily for a sign from God whether I should do this thing. The ankle issue looked like a sign to me, but I waited a bit longer for a bigger bonk on the head. Then, one morning, my gut just told me I should not and could not go through with surgery and I cancelled. Yep, all the tests, meetings, etc. Erased from my calendar and my mind.  We southern girls know we must go with our gut feelings. I breathed a sigh of relief. No more worries about surgery. But the problem was still there, big-time. I'd figure something out after the holidays.

Thanksgiving was tough as I always prepared a large portion of the meal, but Christmas put my behind in a sling. We had 35 for Christmas Eve and nothing was too good for my family.  I slaved for days making the house and preparations perfect, all with the help of my precious husband. A lot of meltdowns, hugs, Tylenol, icing of my knee, etc. My family could see the strain and after Christmas, told me I just had to get my knee fixed.

January 2, 2018,  I called and rescheduled surgery for February 6.  I was scared again. Shitless. There were dietary changes to make which demanded an increase in protein, old meds to be stopped and new ones started, three-times-a day exercises, x-rays, scans, labs....OMG, meetings and my regular life still needed to go on.

Surgery day arrived and so did we at 5:30 am, ready for this piece of cake everyone touted. Surgery took about 45 minutes and I suppose all went well. With the nerve block in my leg, I was up and walking four hours later. I thought, wow, this is going to be easy. Only because I begged and had a meltdown at my final Dr. visit before surgery, I was able to stay the night in the hospital. New Medicare guidelines now deem knee replacement for Seniors, Day Surgery! You heard me.  I made it through the first night post-op, then it was time to head home.

One thing we failed to plan out was how I would get up into the truck for the trip home. I was so high on drugs and residuals from surgery, I have no idea how I got up on that seat. I think they may have used a back hoe. When we arrived home, I just kind of slid out of the truck onto a thick cushion on the garage floor and trudged inside collapsing on the first soft surface I came to.

Shortly thereafter, I moved into the bed which became my pillow-lined nest for two weeks. The bathroom was 14 steps too many away.  I cried during every round trip. I was taking pain meds every four hours, day and night.  My hubby was cooking grits in the middle of the night for me as I had to have food on my tummy to tolerate the meds. Or, he was fetching pudding, milk, ice, cookies or something 24 hours a day. The struggle was real, for both of us.  I was unable to take anti-inflammatory meds because of previous heart issues and it was making recovery and healing slower than I could accept. I was not prepared in advance for the situation I found myself in. Are we ever? Poor pitiful me. I put on a good face but most saw through it.

The weeks dragged by with what I thought was more than my share of pain and nausea. I started some aggressive outpatient physical therapy about week three. My range of motion improved rapidly but the pain lingered. Everyone encouraged me to just take the pain meds. Don't let the pain get ahead of you, was their mantra. After six weeks of aggressive therapy, I began to fear that I would become addicted to the meds and against all recommendations, I started to taper off. The pain wasn't gone just the medicine and I was in meltdown mode most of the time. Each therapy session seemed to make matters worse. I prayed constantly for relief. I lived each day by faith, not by sight, as I saw no signs my knee was getting well. Jesus take the wheel!

With one physical therapy session left, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I called my cardiologist and insisted that I be allowed to take something to reduce the inflammation. My ortho wanted me off the pain meds and to go to pain management. Against my better judgment, I called to make the appointment and the nurse started talking long needles and injections on the phone . Game off. I called in my prayer warriors and I devised a plan to get better in a hurry. You don't really need to know my plan because it probably changed each day and it encompassed a lot of things, mostly God driven. I'm finally getting where I need to be. For me, it has taken almost three months after surgery. It's different for everyone. There is no norm, which I was looking for. The nights are still a little shaky because I'm unconsciously protecting my knee all night long, thus waking up a lot. But if I wake up and my knee is throbbing, I put a soft pillow on top of it and tell it to go back to sleep. Alas, I am so much better! No tears for several days or waking up with unexplained, free-floating anxiety. I think I've got this. I still have a few more months to go before I get my stamina back and to feel like I truly have a new knee. We signed up at the gym today and paid for a year in advance. I am committed.

The Struggle Has Been Real!!! My family has been the REALEST thing of all, present every step of the way with love, meals, encouragement or whatever we needed. No surprises there because that is how we roll, 365. My goal this morning was to make it through today as some days over the past few months it was to make it through the next hour. Baby steps from February to May and I took every one of then, not alone, but with God’s help.

  

I AM A SURVIVOR.