We went to Nashville for Thanksgiving and visited with Tom's family. While there, we played an innocent, friendly game of kickball, followed by another friendly, innocent game of soccer to pass the time until Thanksgiving dinner. Until the moment I ran to kick the soccer ball. See, I'm very competitive when it comes to sports - even during friendly games. I just want to kick my own butt for the fun of it. That's why my trainer calls me SuperMom!
This time though, I was trying to tone down my crazy competitiveness and just play for fun because, who really cares who wins or loses in family soccer? I was doing well, just playing hard enough to break a sweat, but not too hard. Then it happened. I went to kick the ball and my knee made a noise. Not a good noise either. I don't know what happened to the ball - if I actually kicked it or not, but I do know that I was in pain - and lots of it! When moments like that happen, when you are having so much fun and don't want to stop, that's when you try to convince yourself that the pain isn't that bad and it's going to go away if you just give it time. Then there is that very small voice that says, "Uh oh" and you know it's bad, but you don't want to admit it, because admitting it would make it true.
So back home we went, my husband Tom carrying me back, since I obviously couldn't do it myself. We enjoyed thanksgiving dinner and the rest of our time with family, but I had my knee packed in ice, still hoping it would be ok. We drove home the next day, and I took it easy for the rest of the day.
I have a wonderful friend at church who demanded that I come to her husband's PT clinic that afternoon. So I went, hoping he would agree my knee was just needing time to heal. However, after doing some tests and asking some questions, he recommended I see a doctor. :'(
So I made an appointment to see a doc and off I went. When I saw the doctor, he did more tests, along with an Xray of my knee, then said that I'd need an MRI to see how bad off my knee was. ARGH. So I got the MRI done, and had got the results sent to my dad while I waited and waited for the doctor to get around to looking at the MRI to give me my results. My dad finally got the cd in the mail and took a look at it, and told me that I'd torn my ACL and meniscus. AGAIN. :(
This means surgery. I had my knee repaired about 11 years ago, so it's done well up until now. But I've gone and ruined all that good work, after one friendly game of soccer. Something about being SuperMom (a nickname I earned from my trainer while working out) - and I forget that I'm not a kid anymore and I just run around like a crazy person - and unfortunately this time, craziness caught up with me. Now I've finished all the PT to get my knee ready for surgery next week.
I still am hoping I'll wake up and find out that it was just a bad dream. But, life throws curveballs sometimes, and even SuperMom get's taken down by her kryptonite. Thankfully I have a good surgeon that I will be meeting with next week before my surgery and hopefully will get everything fixed up quickly.
Still sucks though.