Last Friday LA Laker Kobe Bryant stepped wrong on the basketball court and ruptured his achilles. Twenty-four hours later he was in surgery, but not before a 3:30 am Facebook post.
Fifteen months and a second surgery later and I'm having to relearn how to walk properly and wondering if the neuropathy is permanent. Not to mention that even if I can finally walk normally without pain, my career is basically non-existent and I am back to starting from the beginning, or having to move in a new direction. Unfortunately, unlike Bryant, I don't have years of 8-figure salaries behind me. At this point I'm just hoping my insurance will agree with my physical therapist on how many more sessions I need.
As a friend pointed out, after two years and two surgeries, I could practically write a book on the subject. Here are a few of my top tips for Bryant and others:
1. Make sure you have a good rapport with your surgeon. You are trusting them with your life and future. If something does go wrong, like you can't feel your toes, you want a surgeon that takes your concerns seriously and is more concerned with responding to your needs then making a magazines top doctors list. A sense of humor and self awareness are also important - I will never again trust another surgeon who can't laugh at himself, or gets paranoid when I mention I have a surgery blog.
2. Know your body and fight when something doesn't feel right. If number 1 is covered you shouldn't have to fight. Within four days of my first surgery I questioned why I wasn't feeling my toes. My doctor kept putting off my concerns until I told him I was going to see a neurologist, at which point he tried to steer me to his choice. The anesthesiologist later said he should have been notified by the surgeon the first time I made the complaint.
3. Find a really good physical therapist with a sense of humor. All therapists are not made equal and the number of years experience does not mean they are right for you. I had originally chosen a larger PT practice in a neighborhood hospital believing that it would be better equipped and have excellent staff, then I had the opportunity to work with a private practice therapist in a one-on-one setting, now I am back to a larger group setting, but linked to a specialized hospital. At the first center I had to push to see one therapist consistently - they were happy scheduling me with whoever was available. This was both a help and a hindrance - a new therapist didn't know my progress level, but might have a new exercise that I found helpful. Having Christine be solely focused on me for an hour was great, both for pushing me and ensuring I was doing the exercises correctly. Also helped that she specialized in feet. So, by the time the second surgery arrived I knew to ask for recommendations beyond the list the hospital provides. I'm even getting used to the hour-plus commute each way to see Bob twice a week, and I have begun to train yet another set of Starbucks baristas on how to make my chai.
As for a sense of humor, if they are doing their job you are going to find yourself wanting to kick your therapist - the movement of my right foot has become a very good indicator of how much pain my left is in. They need to know how to keep you motivated and engaged.
4. You are going to feel stupid and frustrated. Warn your family and friends. Things that were easy last week may not be easy again for awhile. After my first surgery I found myself afraid of my shower - one leg, water and rubber-tipped crutches, not a great combination. Simple household chores become herculean tasks on crutches or knee walker. And later you will get frustrated that physical therapy is not progressing as quickly as you want. (Don't actually kick your physical therapist.) Some of that frustration can and will spill over into your personal relationships. You don't mean it to, and you feel bad when it does, but your life has taken a sudden turn you did not expect and it's not just 3 am when those scared thoughts creep into your brain.
5. Keep perspective. Whether you are a pro-athlete, photographer or work in an office you are going to spend a lot of time focused on you, your foot and getting better. For those of us who can't work while we recover it becomes easier to isolate and fixate on yourself and your recovery. Think about doing some volunteer work, I met some amazing veterans overcoming huge challenges who reminded me in the grand scheme of things my achilles is nothing. Have you ever wanted to try painting or writing? You have a chunk of time between weaning yourself off the pain meds and the splint being removed. Later, even with daily PT, there is going to be some time to fill. The perfect time to try a new hobby. Have you ever thought about playing the bassoon?
6. Be willing to ask for help. That is still the hardest one for me. I have always been stubbornly independent. Even asking a neighbor to take my recycling to the basement, or get my mail is hard. So, while I say understand that things are suddenly difficult and it is okay to accept the help being offered by friends and family, I know that gracefully giving in to the need for those offers of assistance is not easy. Also understand for some, those offers are their way of saying they care about you.
7. Know this too shall pass. Yes, I have been dealing with this for two years, but my challenges have been different over those years. And as I have dealt with each issue I have learned something new. There may be life-long repercussions from the tear, and for me from the neuropathy. But right now, I'm in a better place then I was a year ago. Who knows where I will be a year from now. I will not be the same person who was looking through her lens instead of her feet that I was two years ago, but in some ways I'm not sure that's a bad thing. To quote Emerson "Life is a journey, not a destination."
This is such BS! All the training and sacrifice just flew out the window with one step that I've done millions of times! The frustration is unbearable. The anger is rage. Why the hell did this happen?!? Makes no damn sense. Now I'm supposed to come back from this and be the same player Or better at 35?!? How in the world am I supposed to do that??As a professional athlete Bryant reached this "what now" moment a bit faster then I did. I believed Dr. Hubbard, my first surgeon, when he said I would be back to normal in 6 months. I went into that first surgery grateful that, after almost a year, the pain would stop. Excited that I would be back to normal, able to get back to travelling and taking longer assignments without having to work through pain and ice and elevate every night and pray I could walk the next morning.
I have NO CLUE. Do I have the consistent will to overcome this thing? Maybe I should break out the rocking chair and reminisce on the career that was. Maybe this is how my book ends. Maybe Father Time has defeated me...Then again maybe not! It's 3:30am, my foot feels like dead weight, my head is spinning from the pain meds and I'm wide awake. Forgive my Venting but what's the purpose of social media if I won't bring it to you Real No Image?? Feels good to vent, let it out. To feel as if THIS is the WORST thing EVER! Because After ALL the venting, a real perspective sets in. There are far greater issues/challenges in the world then a torn achilles. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, find the silver lining and get to work with the same belief, same drive and same conviction as ever.
One day, the beginning of a new career journey will commence. Today is NOT that day.
"If you see me in a fight with a bear, prey for the bear". Ive always loved that quote. Thats "mamba mentality" we don't quit, we don't cower, we don't run. We endure and conquer.
I know it's a long post but I'm Facebook Venting LOL. Maybe now I can actually get some sleep and be excited for surgery tomorrow. First step of a new challenge.
Fifteen months and a second surgery later and I'm having to relearn how to walk properly and wondering if the neuropathy is permanent. Not to mention that even if I can finally walk normally without pain, my career is basically non-existent and I am back to starting from the beginning, or having to move in a new direction. Unfortunately, unlike Bryant, I don't have years of 8-figure salaries behind me. At this point I'm just hoping my insurance will agree with my physical therapist on how many more sessions I need.
As a friend pointed out, after two years and two surgeries, I could practically write a book on the subject. Here are a few of my top tips for Bryant and others:
1. Make sure you have a good rapport with your surgeon. You are trusting them with your life and future. If something does go wrong, like you can't feel your toes, you want a surgeon that takes your concerns seriously and is more concerned with responding to your needs then making a magazines top doctors list. A sense of humor and self awareness are also important - I will never again trust another surgeon who can't laugh at himself, or gets paranoid when I mention I have a surgery blog.
2. Know your body and fight when something doesn't feel right. If number 1 is covered you shouldn't have to fight. Within four days of my first surgery I questioned why I wasn't feeling my toes. My doctor kept putting off my concerns until I told him I was going to see a neurologist, at which point he tried to steer me to his choice. The anesthesiologist later said he should have been notified by the surgeon the first time I made the complaint.
3. Find a really good physical therapist with a sense of humor. All therapists are not made equal and the number of years experience does not mean they are right for you. I had originally chosen a larger PT practice in a neighborhood hospital believing that it would be better equipped and have excellent staff, then I had the opportunity to work with a private practice therapist in a one-on-one setting, now I am back to a larger group setting, but linked to a specialized hospital. At the first center I had to push to see one therapist consistently - they were happy scheduling me with whoever was available. This was both a help and a hindrance - a new therapist didn't know my progress level, but might have a new exercise that I found helpful. Having Christine be solely focused on me for an hour was great, both for pushing me and ensuring I was doing the exercises correctly. Also helped that she specialized in feet. So, by the time the second surgery arrived I knew to ask for recommendations beyond the list the hospital provides. I'm even getting used to the hour-plus commute each way to see Bob twice a week, and I have begun to train yet another set of Starbucks baristas on how to make my chai.
As for a sense of humor, if they are doing their job you are going to find yourself wanting to kick your therapist - the movement of my right foot has become a very good indicator of how much pain my left is in. They need to know how to keep you motivated and engaged.
4. You are going to feel stupid and frustrated. Warn your family and friends. Things that were easy last week may not be easy again for awhile. After my first surgery I found myself afraid of my shower - one leg, water and rubber-tipped crutches, not a great combination. Simple household chores become herculean tasks on crutches or knee walker. And later you will get frustrated that physical therapy is not progressing as quickly as you want. (Don't actually kick your physical therapist.) Some of that frustration can and will spill over into your personal relationships. You don't mean it to, and you feel bad when it does, but your life has taken a sudden turn you did not expect and it's not just 3 am when those scared thoughts creep into your brain.
5. Keep perspective. Whether you are a pro-athlete, photographer or work in an office you are going to spend a lot of time focused on you, your foot and getting better. For those of us who can't work while we recover it becomes easier to isolate and fixate on yourself and your recovery. Think about doing some volunteer work, I met some amazing veterans overcoming huge challenges who reminded me in the grand scheme of things my achilles is nothing. Have you ever wanted to try painting or writing? You have a chunk of time between weaning yourself off the pain meds and the splint being removed. Later, even with daily PT, there is going to be some time to fill. The perfect time to try a new hobby. Have you ever thought about playing the bassoon?
6. Be willing to ask for help. That is still the hardest one for me. I have always been stubbornly independent. Even asking a neighbor to take my recycling to the basement, or get my mail is hard. So, while I say understand that things are suddenly difficult and it is okay to accept the help being offered by friends and family, I know that gracefully giving in to the need for those offers of assistance is not easy. Also understand for some, those offers are their way of saying they care about you.
7. Know this too shall pass. Yes, I have been dealing with this for two years, but my challenges have been different over those years. And as I have dealt with each issue I have learned something new. There may be life-long repercussions from the tear, and for me from the neuropathy. But right now, I'm in a better place then I was a year ago. Who knows where I will be a year from now. I will not be the same person who was looking through her lens instead of her feet that I was two years ago, but in some ways I'm not sure that's a bad thing. To quote Emerson "Life is a journey, not a destination."
