I've Fallen, and I Can't Get Up

Pretty much everyone who knows me, knows I had a bit of a mishap last fall.

Worst. Story. Ever. But, I'm going to tell it anyway.

It was late afternoon on a Thursday evening. Friday is trash day, so I was cleaning up messes to go out with the trash. More specifically, I was cleaning up a puddle one of our ferrets had left on the floor. I was wearing my pink Croc-like shoes so I could quickly go from garage to house to outside. I sprayed some cleaner on the ferret pee and turned around to grab a paper towel. As I turned around, I stepped in the wet spot (a combination of pee and cleaner). The shoe flew out from under me so that I landed with my right leg in a weirdly angled split. I heard a loud pop, and I felt the most excruciating pain of my life.

I laid on the floor for a few minutes waiting for the pain to subside, like when you stub your toe. The pain didn't stop. I tried to stand up but could not put any weight on my leg whatsoever. My phone was across the room, so I managed to crawl over to it like a three-legged crab. I called my husband, Mark, and said those famous words from the Life Alert commercial, "I've fallen, and I can't get up!" He had plans with his running club that night. I had caught him before he left work. He asked if he should come home. I actually debated this for a minute because I didn't want to ruin his plans. But I literally could not get off the floor. Then I posted a message on my work Facebook page saying there was no way I could teach my Friday morning fitness class.

He arrived about a half hour later, and I was on the floor crying. The pain was just unbelievable. We couldn't figure out how to get me to the car. Even with his help, I could not be upright. We debated calling an ambulance, but I managed to crab crawl down the garage steps and get in the car.

In the E.R., they gave me a muscle relaxer (in hopes I could straighten my leg for the x-ray) and some pain medicine. The x-ray didn't show any breaks, so they gave me a pair of crutches, told me to make an appointment with an Orthopedic doctor, and sent me home.

I couldn't use the crutches because being upright made the pain too intense. That night I attempted to sleep in the living room recliner. My husband wasn't sure what to do with me. He curled up on the couch, and later the floor.

The first thing the next morning, I called the Orthopedics/Sports Med office to see if anyone could fit me in that morning. One doctor had an opening. We took it.

I'd like to give kudos to this doctor--Dr. Lawless with Premier Orthopedics.  Within minutes he knew exactly what I had done. He said I had torn my hamstring from the pelvic bone. His words went something like this: You've torn your hamstring. If you had just torn one tendon, I would suggest physical therapy. If you had torn two tendons, we would debate between physical therapy and surgery. I'm pretty sure you've torn all three tendons from the bone, we have to re-attach it. We'll get you in for an MRI to confirm, and we'll do surgery a week from today. You'll be non-weight bearing for six weeks after surgery, then we'll work on strengthening the hamstring.

I make half of my living teaching fitness classes and walking dogs, so this isn't really news I wanted to hear. Luckily, I make the other half of my living as an editor, so at least I'd be able to do that.

A little stunned, I asked a few questions. Can I ski in January? Absolutely not. Can I run my trail half marathon in February? No. You'll have no time to train for it. Can I ski in April (we already had a trip to Vail planned)? Maybe.

So, right off the bat, this was not my favorite person, and I really hoped the MRI would show he was wrong.

He wasn't wrong. The MRI showed I had a complete tear of the right hamstring and a partial tear of a glute muscle.

One week later, they rolled me into surgery.

The week between injury and surgery was not pleasant. I had to find people to cover all my fitness classes and my dog-walking clients. I was in a lot of pain. I found a forum on Facebook for people who had this exact injury. It was beneficial because I knew more of what to expect. It was also terrifying because I knew more of what to expect. One of the things people in the forum kept saying was to make sure you find a doctor experienced in this type of surgery. I looked up Dr. Lawless and kept finding videos saying he specializes in knees. In fact, he's related to a friend of mine. The friend asked who my surgeon was. I told him. He said, "Oh, he's my cousin. I think he only does knees."

To be perfectly honest with you, I was so miserable and in so much pain that week, that I would have let my gynecologist sew me back together.

My surgery went well. The surgeon even called me the next day (a Saturday) to see how I was doing. I honestly don't remember the conversation, I was pretty drugged up at that point.

It was a long, frustrating recovery. But I followed 90 percent of the doctor's orders (nobody's perfect). And I got back to my activities long before many people in the forum did. In fact, some of them scolded me for doing too much. But I know my body, and I know what it can handle.

I've had a small complication with scar tissue attaching to nerves, but I'm working with a medical masseuse to solve that problem (you want to talk about evil...).

Getting hurt (or sick) is a humbling experience, especially if you are used to being a very strong, Independent person. It's hard to ask for help when you are used to doing things on your own. I don't know what I would have done without my husband during this recovery--or my mother and aunt. They helped me with everything. I needed help getting dressed. I needed help in and out of the bathtub to shower those first few weeks. I needed help covering the incision with plastic wrap so I could bath. I wasn't allowed to drive for eight weeks (and I made it almost that long). I got pretty good at carrying my coffee while using crutches. You get pretty creative when you have to.

Although this injury sucked (there's just no other word for it), it helped me grow. The saying is true--what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. I am working out harder and more consistently than I ever did before. When something gets taken away from you (in this case, exercise/running), you appreciate much more when you get it back.

So, while I hope to never go through this again, it was a learning experience, and positive things did come from it.

So to Dr. Lawless, thank you. Thank you for fitting me in your schedule the day after this happened, and getting me into surgery a week after that. And obviously, thank you for taking a non-knee case and doing an excellent job of sewing my hamstring back onto my pelvis. (And for keeping an eye on me when you saw me in the gym.)

Thank you to my husband, mom, aunt, and all the friends who checked in on me while I was recovering.

I'm back, and for the most part, stronger than ever.