I hemmed. I hawed. I limped. I crawled. I negotiated. I meditated. But this dang knee isn’t healing itself, and it damn sure can’t take me biking and hiking like I want. So it is with some foot stomping that I will have surgery June 23.
In 20 years, my family doctor has not steered me wrong. When she said that the fancy “buff n’ shine” that my orthopedic surgeon proposed is my best option for extending the life of my original parts, I decided to heed her advice.
Accepting that surgery is my best option is a lot like when I accepted that losing weight was my best option. I’d tried to deny I was obese, but it’s hard to ignore 300 pounds, just as it’s hard to ignore a knee that’s constantly going out. Once I got honest with myself about my weight, I developed a plan, and life felt lighter even before I lost a pound.
I’m putting together a plan for this knee business, too. Six to 12 weeks recovery time seems like forever right now, but I’ll stick with it – moment by moment, just as I did with weight loss. I’ll do everything I can to recover in as short amount of time as possible.
What a change from my non-exercising days. Back then, if a doctor had said, “Lynn, you can’t work out for 6-12 weeks,” I’d have been ecstatic!
“Woohoo! I ‘can’t’ exercise! I have a doctor’s excuse and everything!”
But now – in this place of weight loss and changed mind and eagerness (yes, EAGERNESS) to exercise – I can’t wait to rehab so I can get back to doing what I love to do: hiking, biking, elipticizing. Heck, just walking without fear of falling will be fabulous!
I can’t deny that I’m a little scared that the moment the surgeon’s scalpel cuts my skin, 170 pounds will seep in along with those old excusive habits. This will be the biggest test in maintenance so far. Can I hang on to this weight? Well, as Don Henley asks, “How bad do you want it?” Answer: I’ve never wanted anything as badly than for this last time down the scale to BE the last time down the scale. I really want it bad enough.
So, I’ll keep on keepin’ on. I’ll eat well, move when I can, and ask for help (online and off) when I need it. No more scary silent worrying. I’m done with that. I have a plan. And looking on the bright side, for a few weeks after surgery, I’ll get to ride around WalMart in a scooter! Beep beep!
So my question to you is: how bad do you want it? And what are you doing to get it?