Chapter one, so you fucked up your knee. I like to think of the aging body as an aging car. Once the odometer gets past 50,000 miles something starts to rattle loose. In my case I’m a ’61 Chrysler with really bad shocks. Really fucking bad.  I’m pretty certain I tore the medial meniscus in my left knee. Again. If I’m proven correct this will be the second surgery on that knee. I think it was feeling neglected because last year I had the third surgery on my RIGHT knee. That one was particularly nasty too, torn lateral meniscus and micro fracture surgery. I’m still in month 14 of what my former orthopedic surgeon said could be up to an 18 month recovery process on the right knee and now lefty goes kablooey.

Welcome to my world.

I would like to say that I’m unlucky or not careful but that wouldn’t be true. I’m structurally fucked. Born with a fairly decent case of “knock knees” and being diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis at the age of 12 was an early precursor to what the rest of my life had in store. Guess this ’61 Chrysler was built on a Friday.

Let’s say that you’re new to the knee injury thing and you’re not sure what to expect going forward. You’re probably in some pain, the knee is swollen and maybe makes some unpleasant crunchy noises when you walk and you’re probably a little scared. That’s where I come in. I’m going to walk you through the process and ibuprofen or the meds that the doctor gives you will help you through the pain. Brace yourself though. Unless you have a catastrophic knee injury like a torn ACL or PCL this ain’t gonna happen fast. Not nearly fast enough.

Not nearly fast enough.

It was one week ago today that I got up out of bed, took a couple of steps and realized that my knee sounded like somebody was cracking some walnuts. Real noise and really uncomfortable. A few weeks prior to this while doing my morning 5 mile walk I was at my farthest distance point away from home, the point of no return you might say, when I felt a pretty major jolt of pain in my left knee. I stopped and took the time to say “Oh goddamn motherfucker shit ass bitch, that better not be happening again.” Then I put my headphones back on and walked the rest of the way home. The next morning I recognized tell tale sign #1, swelling on the BACK of the knee. This was not good. I tried and was fairly successful treating it for a few weeks using a familiar acronym that you will get familiar with in a hurry:

Rest

Ice

Compression

Elevation

R.I.C.E will be the first thing you will need to start doing as soon as the knee is injured. After using this technique and alternating my walking days with a gym day I really thought I had a chance to beat this bastard. The swelling decreased on the back of the knee but not appreciably and I was able to get a few weeks of activity before last week happened. When you hear the rattle and crunch that’s when you know…

The Pain:

I’m not the person to really give you a true measure of pain having dealt with knee issues for fucking ever but think of it as a nagging toothache in your knee. It’s unpleasant but tolerable. Note: this is for a meniscus injury, I’ve heard that torn ligaments are quite another story. I also had a fun condition years back called Patella Femoral Syndrome, this is when your knee cap decides it can wander around at will occasionally popping out of it’s little groove on the femur and doing a little partial dislocation. That’s some motherfucking pain right there. For the meniscus, it’s ugly, uncomfortable and honestly a little nauseating but it can be handled with ibuprofin and ice and you can survive it. This is fortunate because as you are about to learn this shit does not get fixed quickly. The pain after the procedure is a lot more intense and some prescription happy pills will be prescribed. I usually just take the heavier shit for a day or two and then dial back down to the Advil.

The Process:

This is how the shit all breaks down, please note that I have a medical PPO coverage through my employer. I had an HMO for right knee surgery #2 and it took 6 FUCKING MONTHS to get through that fucking tangled nightmare. Thanks Kaiser Permanente! I intentionally changed medical coverage to a PPO when I realized right knee surgery #3 was going to happen, also an indirect result of having a shitty second surgery (thanks again KP!) With a PPO once you learn the process, it will go something like this:

Visit to your primary care physician for initial exam and referrals.

X-Rays!  (WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!??????!!!!!!!) They’ll tell you for establishing an overall structure of your knee as well as ruling out possible additional damage. Bullshit I say but you still have to do it.

Find an orthopedic surgeon. What are the two most important words when finding a specialist? In Network! trust me as someone who could have bought a fucking Kia with the out of pocket paid for my last surgery. Do your best to reduce the swelling prior to visiting the orthopedic surgeon lest he decides to aspirate or “drain” the knee. While the results of removing the excess fluids are noticeable and immediate, holy mother of fuck it’s unpleasant. Unless you enjoy a big goddamn needle going under your knee cap.

/shudders

Ortho surgeon will have you get an MRI. Visit the Imaging center, strip down and go in the tube and prepare to  listen to some heavy industrial rhythms.

Ortho surgeon calls you back in for an eval of the MRI and surgery date is set.

Back to primary care physician for pre-surgery exam.

SURGERY DAY!

Back to doctor a week later for exam. This will repeat 2-3 times , stitches come out after 12-14 days. True story, I have removed my own stitches before, the subject of one of Drew’s Funbag letters. Eventually the surgeon will prescribe..

Physical Therapy! Welcome to the house of pain. This goes on for weeks.

Three to five months down the road you should be close to your old self but full recovery is about 6 months for a broken down hooptie like me.

I’ll get into more detail as we encounter each part of the process. I saw my primary care physician last Friday, had my x-rays this past Monday and I’m meeting the surgeon on Saturday morning.

Three more days of this shit before the next step in the process.

Fuck.

One final note: Sunday Gravy will continue as normal for as long as I am able.

I bleed for you!