THE SECRET INGREDIENT OF A GREAT TEAM.

THE SECRET INGREDIENT OF A GREAT TEAM.

NEW BLOG ALERT: The Secret Ingredient of a Great Team

In this post I talk about the unique quality that separates a good doctor from a great doctor and helps to keep you feeling empowered through recovering.

CELEBRATE EVERYTHING

“When there’s nothing left to burn you have to set yourself on fire…” One of my favorite lyrics by Stars’ Your Ex Lover’s Dead. A song so close to my heart because of a dance that I performed my senior year of high school. It was choreographed by one of my best friends, Travis, and performing it was the first time I truly recognized my growth and potential as a dancer. It was the first time I realized I was mature and had a talent and that just mayyybbbeee I could succeed at this. I doubted myself a lot growing up.

-And that's okay too.

-And that's okay too.

What am I so afraid of?…..It’s taken me over a month to write this blog. Wait let me clarify….It’s taken me over a month to even convince myself to muster up enough energy to even START this blog. Even now I’m reluctantly typing away. It’s not that I don’t want to do this, I do. I dream about it and wake up smiling. It’s just that this past month I’ve been sinking.

INSTINCTS

            About ten days after my surgery I started to wean myself off my crutches. The first time I put weight on my leg a tingling sensation started at my heel and grew all the way up through my knee and into my hip- as if everything was waking up again. I loved the tingles because it was the first time I had felt anything besides pain in my leg, it was new blood - new life - rushing through my veins.  Little by little I put more weight on my right leg, once I started feeling like I could bare enough without a struggle I started to only use only one crutch. Before long, I found myself getting up in the middle of the night, grabbing my single crutch and walking, half asleep, to the bathroom- barely even touching the crutch to the floor. The morning I noticed myself doing that I knew my body was ready to take its first unassisted steps. I decided to trust it. After all....It's signals have never led me astray. 

          In fact, in all 3 of my knee injuries my body has ALWAYS warned me. It's tried to save me from hurting myself multiple times and honestly, I didn't listen. Even when my mind wouldn't stop repeating the message of caution when my knee wasn't feeling quite right I kept pushing on. Determined to believe I was fine. It's an incredible, yet dangerous, thing about our anatomy. When one thing isn't functioning correctly the rest of your body will compensate to make up for it. It can be exceptionally worrisome in a body so muscularly strong. Your muscles WILL make it happen, and sometimes (in my case) your pain tolerance is so high, those nerve signals get lost, or worse ignored. Some people can't walk on a torn ACL... I was capable of dancing on my tear for almost 6 months at one point. That resulted in my LCL and meniscus tearing as well. After that, I knew the warning signs and promised myself I would stop pushing and listen to my body. And listen I did. This time my ligaments never tore, instead the screws from my last two surgeries were getting looser and looser causing them to carve bigger holes in my bones and gradually stretching my ACL out. It was a different feeling than I had ever had before, but still I knew it wasn't right. I kept calling doctors and Physical Therapists explaining the feeling but since I was still able to dance without limitations or pain, and I tested negative for torn ligaments in my physical exam so I decided to try jumping into PT hoping that re-conditioning my body was the key. I was feeling stronger and stronger but still not quite RIGHT. I laid low on dancing full out, turned down a few performance jobs, and avoided demonstrating any movements in my master classes that felt shaky for me. The night I got home from a week of teaching I dislocated my knee while adjusting my position on the couch....laying down! That confirmed to me that something was very wrong. At first I felt so weak and embarrassed to tell people I dislocated my knee in the most ridiculous way. It sounded so lame and made me feel so fragile. But actually, that was the absolute gentlest way I couldn't have hurt myself. If I hadn't listened this time... if I had been pushing through, dancing full out in a rehearsal, or climbing a giant prop when that dislocation happened I would have undoubtedly ruined my joint and maybe have never danced again. My body knew, and I knew. And as awful as it is that this happened, it happened in the kindest way it could have- because I backed down and LISTENED.

           There's no doubt in my mind that the human body always knows what it needs. It's instinct. Instincts rule all. They communicate with us on love, trust, intentions, decision making.....everything. Even down to the cravings you have is a communication between your body and mind. Right after my bone graft I craved milk so badly. I don't usually drink milk so that was unusual for me. The minute the milk hit my lips I chugged it down, and then had a second glass. The next morning when I saw my doctor he casually said on his way out of the door "I hope you're drinking a lot of milk! Your bones need it right now!" I literally laughed out loud knowing that my instincts had already told me that.

         It's sometimes small. Sometimes seems silly. Sometimes it even comes as a whisper. But learning to listen to your instincts, especially as an artist and athlete, is the most valuable tool you can develop. The body awareness I have learned has not only taught me what my limits are and how to take care of myself, it's also been the reason I have been able to come back from my injuries stronger than I was before. A lot of people ask me if I will be able to dance again or "the same" after this: I will. But it won't be the same...I will no doubt be better than I was before. Physically and emotionally.  For the next 9 months I get to apply all the knowledge I learn about my anatomy to retraining my body. Once I can start dancing then I get to apply all the emotions I've experienced into my performances. My acting coach would always tell me to experience everything you can in life. Then use those experiences to generate authentic emotions and use the knowledge you gain to guide your decision making. I love to pass that message on. I hope everyone that reads this can learn from my mistakes and take the time to discover your own instincts. Educate yourself. Listen to your gut....and trust.

 

-Bambi

....and then sometimes you crash.

            I've been able to find a lot of blessings from this extremely difficult situation I've been given. I've learned an immense amount about myself and my body in a short amount of time and I've quickly realized how many amazing people in my life are here ready to catch me when I fall (sometimes very literally :-P). For the first week after my surgery I was barely ever by myself. I always had a friend there with me. Without asking, they just filtered in and out of my door which I started leaving unlocked for any one who wanted to come visit. I had barely any time to think about feeling bad. Love distracted me, and I swear that's the best distraction. I always had food, water, medicine, and incredible moments of bonding where I had the opportunity to learn more about my friends and be there for them as they are for me. I cherish that first week I was posted up on the couch because I felt so deeply connected to my friends. Especially with all the traveling I do it's sometimes hard to reserve the face-to-face time that I would like to have with the people in my life. That's something I've decided to prioritize- making sure I am as present in my friends lives as they are for me. I owe them big time for the way they have embraced me through this and have kept me from going absolutely insane. The second week of recovery a lot of my closest friends were diving deeper into rehearsals for Shaping Sound and prepping to leave for tour. Even my friends who weren't in rehearsal had a lot going on that week (LA can be nonstop- its a "rise and grind" type of place). All of the sudden there was no one there and nothing going on. Not because they didn't want to be there with me, I believe they would have if they could have. At first it was nice to have the quiet time to reflect. But after half of a day it became a huge struggle.  Not only did I stop eating as much as I should have because I had no way of getting food unless I ordered in 3 times a day (which sometimes I did), but my ice machine, that's supposed to consistently pump ice water to my knee through out the day, needed to be refilled with ice every 4-5 hours and there was no way I could physically pull that off. I finally figured out how to maneuver my crutches using just my armpit so I could have one free hand to get myself water. And even that didn't become a priority until my medicine wore off and I was in so much pain I had to find a way to take my pain killers.

             It was only week two and I felt an incredibly deep sense of loneliness. It was quiet. There was nothing. The nothingness lasted for days at a time. I would sleep, cry, think too much, and sleep some more. The clock ticked by so utterly slowly. I tried to give myself credit for already having endured the first week then jumped to imagining the 39 more weeks I had to go. The TV wasn't an adequate distraction, my mind would just talk over it. It told me a lot of ridiculous things that made me feel helpless and ashamed of my situation. I had a ton of friends I could call but that- to me- meant updating them and talking about it all over again. I had become so sad so quickly I couldn't bare to hear the silence anymore and I also couldn't bare to talk. I was slipping fast and deep into a headspace where I knew I didn't want to go.

            I had been in that space of darkness before during my last two surgeries. For those procedures, I went back to my hometown of Virginia Beach. At first because I wanted to be near family. Now, I see that wasn't my only reason. Deep down I felt ashamed of my situation. I didn't know any dancers that had gone through an injury that took them out like this and it made me feel inadequate, and worthless. I saw myself as a tool that didn't work- broken and unreliable. Like being a pianist without having a piano to play on-My art and passion felt trapped inside of me. I felt that there was no one that would understand me. So, I escaped as fast as I could back to a place where no one -except my immediate family and childhood friends- would be able to see me in my most vulnerable state. I was so embarrassed and rapidly became depressed. I decided to disappear and come back when I was "camera ready". 

           That decision to shut down and try to piece myself together in private didn't benefit me and it didn't help for my story to benefit anyone else around me. This time I decided to allow myself to be broken by this and for whatever it is inside of me to be exposed. It doesn't make it any less painful but it gives me purpose. And that purpose gives me a sense of self worth. Even just the decision to not run away gives me confidence in myself that I'm not the same scared young girl I was 4 years ago. I'm a woman who rises and falls. Still scared sometimes- but I'm trying to enjoy the fall as much as I do the rise. 

          Back to the now- I was kidding myself if I thought I was going to get away with everything being so much "easier" this time around. The sadness I was feeling was so strong. I honestly don't think it's avoidable in something like this. I also don't know how to make it go away. It feels a lot like swimming against a strong current and just wondering if and when it will get easier. It does get easier. Sometimes it lasts for months and months (it has for me before). Sometimes it comes in moments or out of no where for a day. This time, I attempted to kick the feeling by reading a book my best friend Travis gave to everyone in Shaping Sound. It's called The Energy Bus. It's a wonderful book and an easy read (I highly recommend it). I dove in and finished the book in a little over a day. It really helped me to turn my negative energy towards myself and the absence I was feeling from my friends that week into something more positive. I felt inspired by it for a bit then out of no where, and for no apparent reason, I would crash again. I see it now as waves. In a situation like this, no matter how strong you are, you're bound to have these intense emotions wash over you. You're going to experience sadness, loneliness, feeling left out/abandoned, worthlessness...etc. but you don't have to let the current pull you out to sea. Learning to swim upstream is the only way. 

         I'm sure that what works for me to keep my head above water may not be the same for everyone. But I have started to understand that making the effort to find the things that do work, whatever they might be for you, is a great way to prepare yourself for personal tragedy. Reading a book passes the time for me better than tv or a movie. Journaling helps me get it out from inside me, and then reading it back to myself helps me process the emotions. In fact, I learned something from a seminar called Landmark a few years back that I've found incredibly useful. I learned that all of us have "blind spots", the things we can't (or choose not to) see about ourselves. Imagine walking through the woods in the pitch black. Frightened and unsure of how to move forward. Once you face your thoughts, emotions, and actions for what they are you shine a flash light on your blind spots. Even if the flashlight only exposes a few feet in front of you it creates a safe space, a clearing for you to take a step forward and with every step you take your flashlight will expose more and more of what lies ahead and give you a sense of validity in yourself. For me, feeling like my feelings are valid instantly takes the edge off. And in times like this any relief is exhilarating. I tend to bottle so much up that I need to cry it all out but being so prideful makes me so tired and numb I can't even cry and that is a huge issue for me. However, as soon as I hear my thoughts out loud it makes me realize they are real and they are OKAY. It almost feels like giving myself permission to just BE even if it means my light isn't as bright in that moment....Or maybe it means my light is becoming even brighter in that moment because I'm not trying to hide it from the world when its not the color I'm most proud of. 

 

         For those of you who know someone who has been going through their own hardship: If you want to support them know that you don't need to "do" a lot or say the "right" things. The smallest gestures have been the most powerful for me. It's the text that says "thinking of you<3" from a friend who can't be there that takes the loneliness away. It's the friend that isn't just there for you when the wound is fresh, but remembers that the wound is slow healing and continues to be there for you consistently no matter how long it takes that makes you feel the safest. And sometimes it's just BEING there. Sitting with someone is the most powerful thing. Talking about everything or nothing at all and being okay knowing your presence alone is enough to take their pain away. The one thing I noticed about human behavior in these situations is that it's very natural to be deeply and genuinely concerned about someone but then to become distracted by our crazy lives and to forget that the other person is needing you. If you want to be a great support system for someone stay present. A text, a card, a phone call, a visit, a meal. Whatever it is you can do to let that person know you haven't forgotten about them. Being thought about, even for a single moment, could be the only thing someone needs to feel to help them paddle against the flow. 

      Thank you to all of my friends and family for everything you have been doing for me. Thank you to everyone who has fed me and brought me ice (and wine, haha), and for every single text and phone call. Thank you to those of you I only know through the social media world for supporting me and sending me love. It is felt so strongly. And most of all thank you to every single person for your prayers. I couldn't do this without you.

P.S. I kept hearing my girlfriend Nikole filling people in on my "injury". I have developed such a negative feeling around that word that I finally asked her if we could call it something else....

.....she perfectly responded with something a long the lines of "We can call you Bambi- because you always have a broken leg... as in 'She's just Bambi right now'" 

I love my new nickname because it perfectly describes me but is also still pretty sexy at the same time...

Enjoy the journey....

-Bambi ;)

'Twas the day after surgery....

 

      I had an early morning appointment with my surgeon the day after my procedure (October 6th, 2015) My dear friend Victoria took me. She's the closest thing to perfect that I've ever been near. She's a great person to be around during a time like this because she knows how to flip any situation into something beautiful and she's overflowing with an abundance of knowledge and experience. I'm so lucky she's come into my life (Thank you Teddy Forance for finding and marrying her. I think you may be the luckiest man in the world). 

        I was really looking forward to this check-up because, as I mentioned in my last post, I don't remember anything I was told in the recovery room and I was very excited and curious to get the dish on what happened inside my knee. 

         The first thing that happens in my post surgical check-ups is that they take X-rays of my knee. Pretty normal procedure, but what I saw on my X-ray was not at all what I was used to seeing. For the past 4 years every time I had an X-ray done it would show all the screws criss-crossing through my bones. That become my "normal".........after I got over being creeped out the first couple times. But this time what I saw I really didn't expect. For the first time in a long time there was no hardware holding my knee together. It was as if nothing had ever happened to me. It looked like a "brand-new-knee". My eyes started to swell just a bit thinking of all the "what-ifs" and wishing it could stay so perfect and whole forever. Of course, it can't. I have no ACL at all right now and while someone who isn't an athlete can live and function without their ACL....that just won't work for me. I won't give up what I love the most to avoid the pain. Because in the end the feeling of settling for the "easier" road isn't so easy at all......It's much more painful. So I took a mental snapshot and enjoyed seeing my knee so solid and as untouched as it could look at this point. Come January it will see the screws again. 

         A few minutes later the doctors assistant, Ford, came in the room to cut off my bandages. That's the part that used to really freak me out.......and honestly it took me a long time to get used to seeing my poor knee in this condition. Cut up, bruised and swollen to the size of a small cantaloupe. Before all my surgeries I had a pretty weak stomach and didn't like to see anything like this, especially not on my own body. Now... I find it absolutely fascinating. I find peace in knowing the process and that the swelling WILL go down. The multiple incisions held together by stitching WILL go away. My leg WON'T always be black and blue... with patience and time it will heal and I'll only have the scars both inside and out to remind me of these experiences. So I embrace these moments with my whole heart and try to etch this feeling into myself whether good or bad, hoping I will never -ever have to be here again. Ford, took the rather intimidating scissors and started to cut away revealing the trauma I had endured the day before. It was hideous and so stunning. It made me feel like a freaking warrior to see it and to know how strong I really must be to understand and love it all the same. (You know.... it's okay to love yourself and to recognize your own strength... in fact, call me crazy, but I'm starting to believe that's all the universe put us here to do. To believe in ourselves and learn to love ourselves and most importantly to let that love spill over uncontrollably to others. It's not a perfect practice for me but I'm learning it more everyday). Ford said my knee was looking good and that the Doctor would be in soon to talk to me. This is when the fun part really starts. ;)

       The first doctor who came in to see me brought my surgical pictures. These are the photos they take inside of you while you're having the procedure done. They show the healthy parts of my knee and, in contrast, all the damage. It's helpful for the surgeon to have and really educational for me too. It's teaches me a lot about whatever the heck is going on in there at the time. And, as most dancers are, I'm a very visual learner. She talked over the pictures with me, Some pretty gory looking, pointing out what a healthy ligament should look like and what my ACL looks like instead. It had stretched out so far it looked like guitar strings instead of a tight rope. It's also very clear when you see a healthy ligament as opposed to one that looks like loose cotton or puffy clouds (sounds delightful- but its not! haha). That 'puffiness' is all the damage that's been done around the joint. She also showed me where they located the screws and how deep they were. They had to do A LOT of digging to get to them. I'm including the photos for those of you as fascinated by it as I am.

           Next, my surgeon came in and greeted me with a huge hug. Not only have I been told by pretty much everyone I've met that he's the "best knee surgeon in the world" but he is also so gentle and kind. He makes me feel like he really cares about me in every way. Which I believe is a really important aspect when choosing any type of doctor. He told me about the problems he ran into with the old screws leaving too big of holes in my bones and why he made the decision to give me a bone graft and wait on the ACL replacement. I reassured him that I was happy with his decision and (though my heart sinks thinking about it) that the extra 3 months of recovery time is absolutely worth it to me. I proceeded to ask the Doc a list of questions- What kind of graft would he be using for my ligament replacements? (Cadaver graft for both- achilles tendon for my ALL and patellar tendon for my ACL -being that I already used part of my hamstring the for the first replacement I can't do that again) Should I be bending and straightening my knee right now? (Yes!) How long until I can start trying to walk again? (10 days then slowly I can gradually start putting weight on it) Where did you take the bone from for my bone graft? (It conveniently came with my prepared ACL graft- which is pretty normal apparently) Is my meniscus damaged at all? ( NO! Which is the best news ever because I already had part of my medial meniscus removed and there is no replacement option for meniscus at this time. Meaning, if mine were damaged and needed to be removed I would develop arthritis in the very near future- This news alone is a HUGE blessing to me) When can I schedule my next surgery for? (Early January-I'm aiming for the 2nd. haha) Should I be wearing a stability brace? (No! This answer surprised me but I'm happier without it.) Should I be doing PT? (No, not yet) and of course.... Can I be cleared to go on tour with Shaping Sound in 2 weeks? (YESS!!!! He cleared me to go as long as I was traveling by bus!) I got all the answers I was looking for and felt extremely satisfied with my visit. Once the Dr. was done talking to me Ford came back to put on fresh bandages and a new wrap.  After I was taken care of I hurried to get out of that sterile room. I still don't love being at a doctors office, even after all this time. Why don't they ever pick a nice paint color for these places? A lollipop? A sticker? A treat of any kind just for showing up? Or maybe a Doterra diffuser (thanks to Chelsea and Mary Kay Thedinga for teaching me your ways) to warm up the room and take the edge off? I mean really.......People are going through it here. The white walls and skeleton photos aren't helping. haha

         Regardless of the lackluster environment, I left with good news and in great spirits that day. I was even surprised at myself and how I managed to not experience any anxiety when he confirmed the tacked on 3 extra months to my recovery process. 

....but thats just the thing. When I look around at whats happening in my life and try to see the purpose in it I see so many ways I have already grown just in these first few days of being injured, let alone this year (which has thrown me around and torn me to pieces. Ha, that's a whole other story). It has forced me to accept the things I can not change. And that there's no good in fighting it. I now choose to put all the energy I used to put into being angry at life's punches into observing and healing my life. It's shown me the capability I have in controlling my happiness despite what my circumstance is. It's taught me that my self worth is NOT based upon what I'm doing, what I look like, or who chooses to love me. Each of these 3 surgeries continues to teach me new and different things about my anatomy far beyond anything you can learn from a book. The knowledge I have is directly connected to experience and to the flow of emotions and psychological states I've entered while enduring all this. I truly believe that our emotions and psyche are a BIG part of the way our bodies respond to us. We must learn to take care of them equally if not even more than our physical form. Not everyones expereince will be the same but everyone will ride a wild ride regardless of our different tracks. The key, for me, is to find peace when peace itself is buried under reaction, anxiety, and fear. It is there. It's always there waiting for us to find it. And in the moments when I find my most authentic sense of peace I also find myself. Not the 'me' that is recognized by my flesh (that is ever changing and finite) but the 'me' that will never change or die. The purest version of our selves. The one full of only love and divinity. Our souls. They are waiting for us to recognize ourselves and all the glorious energy we are. We were not put here to suffer. We are here to find our beautiful selves in the midst of all the chaos. That is the ultimate challenge. The journey is truly the destination....

 

FOLLOW MY JOURNEY.....

 

       I want to encourage everyone that reads this to take whatever it is that's challenging you and to send that obstacle love and gratitude. I promise that whatever it is you are strong enough to take it on. And you will only get stronger because of your courage to face it. You- your soul- is a powerful electricity in this world and without you there would be darkness in places where God wanted light.

 
 

Warning: The following photos are graphic! My apologies to anyone with a sensitive stomach! 

October 5th- Surgery Day-

             Okay.....Let me start off by saying I was in the most amazing mood heading to the hospital the day of my surgery. It was so good I would say it was 'bizarre'. It was the morning of October 5th, 2015 and Nikole (my best lady friend, and Shaping Sounds incredible producer) picked me up to take me to the hospital. She had cleared her whole day for me to make sure I was taken care of. I owe this girl a whole lot (and I will always, always be there for her <3 #buddies). Nikole really knows how to love and nurture you while still being completely real and upfront. A rare hybrid of a woman and so so special.

            We loaded up the car with my brand new post surgical--10 lb-- knee brace and a glistening pair of silver crutches. I was set. We put the address of the Santa Monica Surgical Center into Wayz and with no questions asked Siri reassured us that we were on our way. About 45 min later, around 9:22 (8 minutes before my appointment). We noticed we did not look like we were anywhere close to the beautiful city of Santa Monica. In fact, we couldn't really read where we were. We were surrounded by symbols. Then....I recognized the korean bbq restaurants and knew we were in Korea Town....ALL the way across LA on the opposite side from Santa Monica. When we re-searched it we found that we were 45 min away. We rushed over and used side roads to dodge traffic. We ended up making it there by 10 am-- Only 30 min late, no thanks to Wayz--

         We kept a positive vibe despite all the gps confusion. I had so many friends and family members reaching out to send me prayers and love that I couldn't even think about having stress, nerves, or fear. The vibration between myself and my friends is so powerful. It feels like an army carrying me through, and I know they would never let me fall.

        When we strolled into the Surgical Center I immediately got hit with paper work and all sorts of consent forms. I don't know what they said because all I could think about were these huge jugs of water stacked right across from my chair. I stopped eating and drinking (even water) at midnight the night before and I. Was. Parched. I can't think when I'm thirsty. Anyway, that trance I was in probably helped me get through the whole prep process for surgery. I don't love needles and surgery involves a lot of those. I put on my gorgeous hospital gown and even got a hot new pair of panties to go with it. I was feeling so sexy. (I waited until I got my post surgery meds to pose for some risqué photos.) My nurse's name was Carol and she took great care of me. I got to talk to my surgeon before I went under too. I feel really confident in him. He specializes in multiple reconstructions and he works on the US Olympic Soccer Team, he seems trusted in this type of thing. :P He drew a happy face on my leg with a lot of letters that were code for what he was about to do to my knee. If I didn't know better I would have thought they already gave me the drugs to go 'night night'. Speaking of,  I also got to talk to my anesthesiologist who was super cool. Apparently he recognized me from SYTYCD and talked all about the show to me. Nikole had to remind me of that when I woke up later....She had to remind me of a lot of things. From the point that I met him on I remember nothing. Until I woke up in the recovery room....

         The first thing I remember is telling -anyone who would listen- that I was still craving pizza. I couldn't wait to eat pizza, until the nurse told me I couldn't eat pizza... Too greasy. Boooo! But okay, I accept that. The next thing I remember is trying to bend my knee. I could bend me knee!!! I thought it was a miracle because my last two ACL reconstructions I had little to no movement in it for at least a week or so. 

           Then the bad news came... When my Doctor went in to take out my screws he removed three screws from my previous two surgeries. One of the screws was biodegradable and so it had dissolved over time but the hole was still present in my bone. The other three screws left very large holes in my bones. They were way too big and didn't leave any solid space to attach my new ligaments. Even if he had tried to do it- it would have caused me a ton of problems with my new ligaments and my bones in the near future. He had no other choice but to give me a bone graft. He used the cadaver bone that came with my ACL/ALL graft. He crushed up the bone and  he filled the holes in my knee joint- imagine filling nail holes on your wall with putty and allowing it time to dry and harden. Thats my knee right now. Filled with new bone thats soft and my body is working to harden the bone graft and build new bone within to strengthen it. I now have to wait 3 months in order to give my body time to heal from this. Then, in January, I'll venture in to pt. 2 of my surgery and have my ACL and ALL reconstructed. This 7 month rehabilitation turned into 10. But after this procedure it will be as if I have a brand new knee. The bones won't be brittle, they will be strong and solid. My ACL, ALL, and LCL will all be tight and ready for action. It's worth the extra few months to have the possibility of not going through this, or something worse, ever again. I dream of longevity for my career. Therefore, I don't want a bandaid. I want the source of the problem to be fixed. I really believe that now that I am solidifying not just my ACL but everything around it I have a much greater chance of keeping my body healthy in the future. 

          This procedure is much different than my last few. The pain is different. For anyone that has had a procedure done to your bones, you know the pain. It is just too-- strange-- to describe. It's intense. It radiates. It's sharp but hollow and very deep. He cleaned up my ACL, meaning I have nothing there now, and so my joint is extremely unstable. He tightened my LCL as well. So my IT band is reacting  to that and completely crying for help.  I want to be nice and roll it out with my foam roller but my legs are so bruised and tender I can't even bare it just yet. On the bright side my Dr. said I would be walking in 10 days and I got permission to go on tour with Shaping Sound even though I'm not dancing! I'm honestly overwhelmed by the amount of people that want me there-just to be there...I have a feeling I'm going to get really good at taking show notes and drinking wine.......

        I was so relieved when I got home and I wasn't as groggy as I was the last two procedures. I had life in me. I wasn't sick and throwing up like I had expected. And I didn't lose my appetite. I've been so much happier with this go around and a lot of that is due to the way I prepared myself and support I have from my friends. I haven't been left alone since my surgery. I feel so loved and cared for...Not to mention this 5 inch feather topper that I like to call "Heaven" and the sheets I splurged on are also contributing to the good vibes. After getting used to my pill regime, getting food in my belly, and processing everything that had change that day it started to sink in....this complication just added 3 more months to my recovery time. My brain started racing with logistics and my my body froze into a partial state of anxiety and shock. I had to talk my self down from the upset and remind myself what the bigger picture is. That helped a lot and yet regardless of how much we understand that it'll "make sense later" or "be better in the long run" Sometimes it just doesn't take the pain away RIGHT NOW. And the RIGHT NOW is what hurts. Not the past and not the future. Thats also the beautiful part.... RIGHT NOW doesn't last forever. It's a moment in time and it's already gone as we speak...

That night a few things came to my mind in my hazy state and I reached to my journal to jot them down...

"My patience is being tested.... remain at peace: My body needs TLC....Love on it: My mind and soul need a breather to step back and clearly envision my new path: I'm comfortable: I'm happy: I'm grateful for this experience: And I'm incredibly blessed to have an army of support behind me and a shower of love constantly renewing me"

 

Just a few things Nikole reported back:

-Woke up from a nap- had a conversation I don't remember then said to the nurses and doctors "I love you all!!!! Good bye." and ---BAM-- back to sleep.

-Proceded to tell all the nurses and doctors about how I was going to work on improving my Port De Bras (arms) for the next 7 months. (Enjoy video below)

-Insisted on taking photos in my granny panties. 

-Had a 20 min conversation with my surgeon and another with my anesthesiologist both of which I remember nothing about and hope I kept appropriate... We were on hugging terms on Tuesday so I still I have faith in myself.

P.s. After she told me some of the things I said and did I remembered doing them, but my time line was all off. I could have sworn everything happened before my surgery. I argued it so hard that Nikole had to point out that my knee was wrapped up in bandages in all of the media she had taken. Dang it, she got me again.

Feel free to leave questions or comments below....

Reality strikes

               I just went in to the office to sign my consent forms for my surgery. Stephanie (the Dr.s Assistant and one of the sweetest women you'll ever meet) has been in charge of setting me up and guiding me through the process. At first it was easy, almost routine... Then as she started walking me through the "what to expects" during and after surgery I started to well up. All the emotions washed over me so suddenly. I remembered the mental and emotional struggle, the depression, the "FOMO", and the excruciating pain....Everything came rushing back to me within a single moment. I lost control for a second.  The tears showered down my face and as I started to apologize to Stephanie for the flood I realized that I don't need to be ashamed of it at all. Due to my last two reconstructive knee surgeries I know this process very well.  In some ways that makes it easier. And in other ways it makes it way more difficult.... --To be completely aware of what lies ahead for me and to walk myself into it knowingly is-- ugh--'tough' to say the least. Since my last operation 4 years ago, getting hurt again has been my absolute worst fear.... *deep breath* ...I guess it's time to face my fears.
            I swapped my mindset in an instant. I stopped feeling bad for myself, and I decided to be proud of what I'm going through. I'm proud of myself for having the strength and the courage to go through yet another reconstruction and rehabilitation...Because at the core my love and passion for dancing, and the desire to feel and share again on stage, motivates me not to accept this from my body. And from that I've learned to nurture my body, love it, heal it, and to never give up on it. I'm proud of my body and of what it's capable of. I'm proud of this process and how shitty and beautiful it is at the same time. I'm proud of what I've gone through up until now and proud what I'm about to go through over the next 10 months. I'm proud to say with confidence that I WILL be dancing again and stronger than ever, and I won't accept anything less of myself.
            The desire to move is already bubbling up inside me. For the next few months I'll let it fill up and boil- I'll allow it to motivate me to be patient with myself. And when the time comes to start dancing again I'll keep that gratitude for my movement simmering. I'll never forget what it feels like to not be able walk or even so much as bend my knee. I won't ever take that kind of freedom for granted. I don't wish this experience on any human in the world. But the reality is, it happens. It's the nature of our beast. And the least I can do for others, and for myself, is to share what I've learned and whatever it is the universe wants me to see from it this time. There's always a purpose. There always has been. So many signs have been coming to me that, even though I don't want it to be true, there's no way I can deny that this is a subtle hand from the universe sitting me down and asking me to look at me life from a distance. 
            So.... I signed the papers, picked up my crutches, brace, and ice machine, and set a date for my surgery (October 5th, 2015). I spent my last few days before my operation trying to grasp my reality and prepare for my entire life to change....at least for the next 10 months. 
I'm curious and dare I say -excited- to ride this ride. I can't wait to share what I see.
Follow My Journey...
P.S. my friends now call me "Bambi".... Can you guess why?(Story to come :-P)
 
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