I kneed more physical therapy.

I'm lame, I know.

So...I saw the sports medicine guy today. I'm going to call him B-dog, just for funsies. Really, his name is Dr. Patrick Birmingham, and you will find him to the left. He was a nice guy...he didn't talk down to me, which a lot of doctors have a tendency to do to their patients in general, so that was good.

When I arrived, I first had to have some x-rays taken. I saw the doctor shortly afterward. He translated my knee a bunch, which wasn't the most pleasant, but I survived (I was actually kind of afraid he was going to pop something out or hurt me...not in a fearful way...but just in the way he was contorting my leg around). He said my injury was, "pretty impressive." He thinks that when I was in my car accident almost nine years ago, I partially tore the PCL on the left and because the injuries on the right were so significant, it got overlooked. Then, when I tripped and fell on February 26th, it tore the rest of the way. So, for nine years, I've most likely been walking around with a torn PCL, apparently. The reason he thinks this is because the damage done to my knee was almost too significant for a simple fall of two feet and that PCL injuries are usually seen either in football injuries or from knees hitting the dashboard in car accidents. And, as much as I would've liked to have been tackling the boys out on the field...it wasn't so.

The Plan
Going into this appointment, I had done about four weeks of physical therapy. Overall, I don't feel like it's helping me. It's basically strength training, so I do feel like it's making me stronger, obviously, but that's about it. I don't feel pain relief at all. I feel as though the instability issues have gotten better, but I think that's largely due to the fact that I wear a huge black brace on my leg for the vast majority of the day, so my knee can't give out. Maybe it would give out if I wasn't wearing the brace. I mean, a few weeks ago, I rolled over in bed one morning and the entire joint just slid apart. It was disgusting (and very painful) and the first time that's ever happened when I wasn't bearing weight (also, I don't wear the brace when I sleep...coincidence?).

Dr. Birmingham wants me to do more PT. I wonder what the record is as far as length of time someone's been in PT. Let's see...I did PT from August '02-January '03 at home...and then January '03-May '03 in La Crosse...and now April '11-July '11...hmmm...not impressive. I thought I will have done it for way longer. It certainly feels that way.

Anyway...the reason he wants me to do more therapy is to strengthen not only the quad, but to engage the hip and ankle as well. And, I guess once you tear your PCL, unlike the ACL, it will (are you ready for it?) never be 100% again, even with surgery. Isn't that something? It's true. Your knee will never again be aligned properly.

As for my patella...once the patella dislocates, there's a 50/50 chance it will happen again. So...for the time being, he's not going to do anything about it. PT should help keep it from slipping out of place. If it dislocates a second time, he'll figure out a course of treatment.

I have to say, I wish I was having surgery. Not that I'm some kind of surgery-fiend or anything like that. I just wish there was a simple, surgical solution. Like...appendicitis. You have an appendectomy. Problem, solution. Not this. This is going to be a lifelong issue, now. I mean, I'm not going to be in PT for the rest of my life, but I'm definitely going to have to strength train for the rest of my life (which I should probably do anyway, so I guess this is as good an excuse as any), because once those muscles get weak, the joint will become unstable and that's when problems will start.

I go back to see the good doctor in two months.

A Change of Heart

I know that I said I won't be pursuing a graduate degree any time soon. Or...maybe I didn't say it in my blog, but I said it to people in my life. BUT, after writing a research paper last week, I've decided that after working in medical records for a year or two, I would like to pursue a doctorate in medical informatics. 

Medical informatics is a field that is concerned with the cognitive, information processing and communication aspects of medicine and healthcare, including the information sciences and technology to support these tasks. The field covers the application of information technology in clinical medicine, medical record keeping, medical instrumentation and healthcare management. Medical informatics uses computers and information science to the advancement of life sciences research, health professions education, public health and patient care. From clinical care and research to health policy, informaticians help in the design, implementation and use of systems that manage the complex information in health care delivery.

The reason I didn't want to pursue a graduate degree originally is because I was feeling a bit burned out; however, I think that after working for a few years, I'll be ready to do school again, especially since it's something I'm so excited about. I really think that this is where medicine is headed. Electronic health records are, as prior Secretary of Health and Human Services, Michael O. Leavitt, stated, "an economic imperative designed to maintain health and at the same time, maintain the momentum of our economy."

Forgot to Mention...
Totally unrelated...I forgot to include my favorite snack as of late in my last post...

Pu Pu Platter Post

I haven't blogged in what feels like years. Oops. Needless to say, this blog post is going to be an amalgam of sorts...

Love
I was with a gentleman the other day when I discovered what I feel about love: it's fluid. We were talking and suddenly, it kind of just came to me. I've always kind of held that I haven't ever been in love because I've never felt that "thing"...that hopeless, can't-live-without-you, need-you-to-breathe kind of qualification in a relationship. I've had boyfriends, sure. And after their conclusion, I'm always a bit salty and think, "Oh, it wasn't love because it didn't stick." But, I think love changes as we change; our definition of love is ever-evolving. Love means something different in each relationship we have and that's part of what makes that relationship special and unique. Sure, the underpinnings are similar. But, what love meant to me at 20 is certainly not what love means to me at nearly 28 (Sidebar: When did I get so old and how do I make it stop?).

Joint Predicament
I am breakable. I write that because apparently, I need a reminder.

On February 26, I was in my friend's kitchen when I tripped over my own two feet and fell, landing on my left knee. I knew immediately that I had seriously done something wrong. I could tell that it wasn't broken; it felt like there was something wrong muscularly. I couldn't move it and could barely bear weight.

I went to the emergency room at Froedtert the next day, on my way home from said friend's house. The PA had my knee x-rayed (which I thought was a waste of time, but whatever), told me nothing was broken and that I just had a bad sprain. She said I should see my primary care physician in two weeks if things didn't return to normal.

I waited 10 days because I couldn't take it much longer. My doctor ordered an MRI. Keep in mind that at this point, I had just had the neurostimulator implanted (a procedure that was "technically" a surgery) in my back for the 1-week trial and in a few days, it would be removed (this is a crucial fact). When radiology called me to schedule the MRI, they asked if I had any surgeries or implants. I stated that I had two plates and 18 screws in my right leg, as well as a surgery to implant the neurostimulator, but that it would be removed in the office in the next few days. The radiologist then informs me that because I had surgery, I could not come in for my MRI for six weeks. I asked what the reasoning was and the only answer I could get out of anyone was, "It was the doctor's orders." So, I schedule my MRI for exactly six weeks from my surgery date. During this six-week waiting period, my knee is constantly dislocating and I even fell and landed on it two more times. 


The MRI date finally comes around and everything goes smoothly, until that afternoon. I get a phone call from my doctor literally one hour after I leave the hospital. She says that the radiologist called her immediately because my MRI was so bad. As it turns out, I dislocated my patella and my PCL is no where to be found. When my patella dislocated, it shaved quite a bit of cartilage off the femoral condyle. I have bone marrow edema and a lot of fluid in the joint. Awesome. Then, my doctor asks why I waited so long to have the MRI done. I explained the runaround I had with radiology and my doctor was none-too-pleased (with radiology, not with me). The next day, I met with an orthopedic surgeon who put me in a long-leg stabilizer for three weeks, as well as assigned me to PT. She performed the posterior drawer test on my knee and was able to push my tibia behind my femur. Pretty gross.


Well, after three weeks of PT, I can tell it really isn't helping with the pain (it wakes me up at night). Don't get me wrong though, I can tell my quads are getting stronger (makes sense, since I'm basically just strength training). The orthopedic surgeon wants me to get a second opinion on having reconstructive surgery. So, on May 19th, I'm meeting with an orthopedic surgeon at Froedtert who specializes in sports medicine. The reason she wants me to see him is because PCL tears are rare, but when they do occur, it's most often in sports (usually, football). She said the rehab for ligament reconstructive surgery is long, so she doesn't want to do it without a second opinion. Also, not really how I planned to spend my summer.


Wow...that was a mouthful (Or...a handful? Since I'm typing? Whatever...)!


At the Moment
What I'm loving right now...

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot.

The Voice on NBC.

Smucker's Simply Fruit Red Raspberry.

I know I said it was one of my goals to blog more often and I definitely have been on a decline. Sorry about that. In my defense, school has been crazy (but, next week is my last of the semester!). And, this knee-business has not been much fun, either. But, I will try harder. I know, I just need to make an effort to do it.

I am enough. And I have joy in this.

Since I was 12, my grandma has hounded me about my weight. I have usually dismissed it, chalking it up to cultural (my grandma is Japanese) or generational differences. Fast-forward nearly 16 years later, and the comments persist in nearly every phone conversation or exchange otherwise.

Luckily, I'm a very strong woman (emotionally...physically, not so much...). When she told me she'd buy me a piece of exercise equipment for Christmas, I let it go. When she tells me, "You have such a pretty face," I know what she's not saying..."it's a shame you're not thin." When she asks if I eat when I'm bored, I know that she's prying for information or making subtle implications...trying to get to the "root cause" for my weight. It's as though being overweight is the worst "crime" a person could commit. You know...nevermind that I graduated college with honors. Nevermind that I walked again after I was told I wouldn't. Nevermind that I'm back in school and doing really well. She's so focused on me not weighing 120 lbs. that she doesn't see all of these other good things I've done. Yes, I could afford to lose some weight, but when it comes down to it, who couldn't? Weighing what I weigh and at a size 14, overall, I'm happy. Truly, I am. I know that's not enough for some people (namely, my grandmother), but for me it is.

People will come into your life who will try to change you and form you into their ideal version of "you." Only you can do you...be comfortable in your skin...love and embrace who you are, and celebrate yourself. And above all else, know that you're enough.

Summertime...and the livin' is easy...

I'm having a bout of winter blahs, so I started waxing nostalgic and thought of my favorite summer memories...

...the sticky, hot & humid heat quenched only by an ice cold longneck, complete with beads of cool refreshment rolling down the bottle.

...days dressed in bright, floral sundresses, paired fashionably with open-toe sandals and a flower tucked among dark, curly tendrils.

...the soundtrack of the summer (usually classic rock) blaring from stereo speakers off the back of wooden decks or patios when we're grazing in the yard, soaking up every drop of sunlight.

...the scent of freshly cut grass and lighter fluid dancing in the air as numerous backyard barbecues conspire to while away the day.

...a favorite bar, packed with people you've come to know and love. One of my favorite places is a bar in Bay View called Barnacle Bud's. It's located right on the riverfront, so there are boat slips for people to drive up and dock, get out, enjoy some food or a drink and head back out on the water. 

What are some of your favorite summertime memories?

I can't believe this snow! I really just want it to be spring! We've had nearly 5 months of cold! Enough is enough, Mother Nature! I've got the itch to plant flowers and start planning my gardens (vegetable and herb).

Well, on Saturday, I'm chopping my hair off. I've decided to donate it to Locks of Love. I've donated my hair once before, as it was something on "The List" (that is posted on the site for my old blog) and it made me feel really good to do. I've done other volunteer work and projects in the past and I know that those are positive things in which to participate, but doing this, I felt like I was really making a difference to someone. So...I'm excited about my impending haircut.

I've been on spring break from school. It's been really nice having a week off. I've just been relaxing at home, which was exactly what I wanted to do. I've tried out a few new recipes, as is always a lot of fun, and caught up on some things I wanted to do around the house.

I hope you are all having a lovely close to your week. If you have plans for the weekend, enjoy them!

This world is made out of sugar; it can crumble so easily, but don't be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it.

It has been so long since I've posted, I know. Don't hate, please. :)

I'm on spring break and I'm perfectly content to not do anything spectacular. I just want to stay home and relax. I have been working my ass off all semester...just been overwhelmed with homework and projects. Three of my classes have ended, though, which is great! It is nice to have a week of nothing. Perhaps I will bake or try new recipes. I do love to cook...

Mark (BFF from high school) came to visit on Monday. It has been nearly a year since I have seen him, so I was very excited to spend the day with him. I made tortilla soup (it's kind of more of a stew) and watermelon margaritas. I never made margaritas without a pre-packaged mix before. I seriously just liquified a quarter of a watermelon and then frozen it and then re-blended it with different alcohols and simple syrup. It was tasty. I missed Mark, though. I really hope to get to California to visit him before he's done with school and is working somewhere. I've known him for half of my life! That is crazy!

I'm waiting to hear back from my insurance company regarding whether they'll allow me to have the neurostimulator placed permanently. I had amazing success with it. I go to the mailbox daily with bated breath...

If you get a moment, please watch this amazing video about spoken word poetry. My favorite part:
There's nothing more beautiful
than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline,
no matter how many times it's sent away.