Life on Pause
Well here we are, months and months after my last post. Writing this from my hospital room.
I’ll describe as short as possible what has been happening.
During the winter holidays in January we decided to go to Ishigaki Island for a week. I was ecstatic when we booked a week in our favourite hotel, I was literally counting down the minutes until our flight. I kept on telling my husband how I desperately need a break from doing the same things over and over again, and how excited I am to do all the sports activities that the hotel organizes and how many mocktails I’ll be chugging out during the day.
Well, the day came, we arrived in Ishigaki and the 3 of us could not stop saying how much this little island reminds us of Mauritius. The sugar cane fields, the blue skies that seem so close as if you can touch them, the small roads, the view of the sea in the distance…
On our first day we got to hang out by the pool, we played ping-pong, I drank bunch of mocktails. Yes, mocktails - not cocktails. Im not making this up just for the sake of the blog post. I used to enjoy cocktails quiet a lot, but for the last 8 years I haven’t , as it does not make me feel good and I avoid it as much as I can.
So, fast forward to the Day. It was Day 2, I woke up early around 05:10, went to the gym and ran for about an hour on the treadmill. I went back to the room and I remember telling my daughter and my husband how great I feel, and how I wish I could run for another hour.
We went about our day and during lunch time we signed up for a football match organized by the hotel. Both me and my husband signed up and I was super excited to finally, after such a long time, be able to play football or soccer or whatever you call it.
We got to the pitch early, it started raining and my husband like in any other horror movies, warned me and tried to tell me not to play as the ground seemed slippery and I didn’t have football boots on (I played in my running shoes , yeah I know…). And of course I said that I will be fine and that there’s nothing for him to worry about.
Well 5 minutes into the game and Im on the ground screaming in pain “My knee, my knee, my knee”. I immediately knew something was very wrong. I jumped to hit the ball and when I landed I completely scrambled my knee. It bent inwards awkwardly and twisted, I heard loud snap as if a tree branch snaps.
The hotel called the ambulance, they transferred me to the local emergency department, did bunch of tests, x-rays, but it did not show a broken bone. “Ah luckily” - I thought. But, then the doctor goes: “There is no broken bone… but I think there is a broken ligament, one or two.. You will need further MRI scan and will probably need a surgery”. A surgery? I wanted to scream.
He put my whole leg in mobile cast, prescribed bunch of strong pain killers and instructed me to go back to our hotel room, put ice on the knee and rest until our flight back home. The rest of the holiday, you can imagine, crying in pain, crying in despair, unable to walk, unable to seat, unable to shower. Absolute horror.
A week later, we were home and after my MRI scan, my surgeon confirmed that my knee is severely damaged with ACL total rupture, MCL partial rupture and Meniscus partial rupture, and possibly 1.5-2 years of recovery.
Now see this, I have been playing football my whole life, and bunch of other sports. But, I have never had an injury. Never.
I went home crying in disbelief.
End of March my surgeon confirmed that all my swelling has gone down, the MCL seemed like it’s completely healed on its own and now it was the time for a knee reconstruction surgery to fix the ACL and the meniscus.
And now here I am, 3 weeks post surgery, ACL and meniscus are fixed. But, I am still in the hospital, learning how to walk.
And this, won’t end here, I’ll need 3 months of intense physical therapy and then a year of regular physical therapy.
