from normal lungs to very sick lungs

2020 has started in a way I never would have believed. I thought I was an active, healthy person until that was taken away from me. Don't take life for granted because sometimes it can throw you these curveballs you're not ready for at all. 

26.2.2020

Why is this chest pain not going away. I biked 5 minutes to school today and had to catch my breath for a good while outside before entering university. Rip my class is on floor 5 today... "I can do it, it's only 4 floors up". Arriving on floor five, I have to sit down; my heart is pounding and I feel like I can't breathe. What is wrong with me. I visited the doctor for the first time 5.2 and she told me I probably just have muscle aches from sport.... 18.2 I went to a private clinic as I felt like my symptoms weren't getting any better; she told me I probably have a minor infection as my CRP was a little elevated, but apparently nothing a week of rest shouldn't fix.                                                                                                       I go to the public health clinic to ask them for advice. I tell them my chest is hurting a lot more now and I feel like I'm short of breath constantly; I can't do my daily activities (biking to school, walking up the stairs, vacuuming, standing in the shower) anymore. They tell me "Our clinic is closing in 30 minutes, we don't have any doctor here for you to talk to and tomorrow we have a doctor training day, so our doctors are not present tomorrow. If your symptoms are really bad, we advise you to go to the hospital ER to get checked". 

Today I feel like my symptoms are getting worse and worse. I still have to stay up for all night a we have an off-campus learning opportunity that lasts for the whole night. Well, if I was told I have chest aches and a small infection, I guess I can pull this off. 

27.2.2020

I have stayed up all night. God, I am so tired. But I still have a 3-hour lab to go to. I have promised my boyfriend that when I get home I'll leave to the hospital like the clinic advised me yesterday.  It's 11:30am when I get home. I need to take a nap, I'm way too tired to leave right away. I sleep for an hour and I take the bus to the hospital. I take a queueing number in the ER and I get called to see a nurse pretty quickly. I explained to her my symptoms and that I think something is wrong with me because I'm an athlete and this is not how my body works. That I wasn't able to do anything anymore. She looked a me like I was stupid and said: "Your symptoms are not bad enough to be treated at the hospital, if you've been told you have an infection, there's nothing more we can help you with" and she basically sent me away. 

I was devastated. I felt like I was going crazy and that no one believed me. That because I looked healthy on the outside, there was nothing wrong with. Because I could talk long and clear sentences I was fine. I called my boyfriend and ten my mom, crying on the phone. I didn't know what to do and quite honestly I didn't have the energy to do anything anymore. I had been at four clinic/doctors by now and they all told me nonsense stuff that didn't make sense to me. So I took the bus and went home. 

Together with my mom, I decided that I'd go to a private clinic doctor one more time. I booked a time for the same night. Thank god, it was a friend's mom who knew I did sports and took me seriously. She ran a number of tests for 400€ worth (!!!). She called me in again to tell me about the results and told me that I had to go to the hospital straight away. I wasn't sure what to believe. She told me I might have a serious condition called "embolism" (veritulppa) and she wanted to rule it out by sending me to the hospital for some more scans and tests just to be sure. 

I called my sister not to be too worried and took a taxi with my boyfriend to the hospital (thankfully not the same one I went to earlier in the day...). They took me in pretty quickly, did a whole bunch of blood tests, took a lung X-ray, a heart ultrasound and lung CT scan that would determine whether or not I had this scary-sounding embolism. By that time it was about 11pm and I was so tired as I had slept one hour in the past 40 hours. At 1:00am in the morning, the doctor came next to my bed and said: "It was indeed a bilateral pulmonary embolism (molemminpuolinen laaja keuhkoveritulppa!!) and it has spread widely to both of your lungs and it is a very serious condition." I was shocked and sad. I cried for a good 15-minutes by myself. I had been to 4 doctors before the 5th one actually took the necessary tests to determine there is something really wrong with me. I had had this getting worse and worse for probably over a month but no one took me seriously "because I was young and healthy and could walk and speak well" as it said on my patient files. 

28.2.2020

I was transferred to the cardiology department where I got my private room. The next morning a few doctors and nurses came in to talk to me about this very scary pulmonary embolism. The head cardiologist did and ultrasound on me and said this was a life-threatening condition that could've ended a lot worse. WHAT?! So I've been having this life-threatening condition and people tell me I have chest aches from sports and I'm too healthy to be taken as a patient to the ER. Again, I was in disbelief of how this could actually happen to me. I was active, didn't smoke, hadn't travelled in any long flights in the near past, I should't have the risk to get an embolism? 

In a disbelief, I messaged the IRONMAN cancellation agency and cancelled my Ironman race from this summer.  I was so upset but it was the best option for now. Health comes first, always and at these uncertain times it was better to do it now that drag it until later. 

I was discharged the same day as I was young and healthy and could take care of my own medication (which meant I had to poke some blood thinner into my stomach twice a day every day LOL). 

              ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

5.3.2020

It's been a week since I got discharged from hospital. My symptoms aren't really getting any easier and I get these really horrible chest pain "attacks" where I can't move my body at all. I also have started to feel very lightheaded and my head just spins whether I lay down or stand up.  I decided to call this medical helpline in Finland where a nurse takes the call asks you some questions and gives you instructions on what to do. Due to the geographical area I live in she told me to go the the hospital I was sent away from last week. I told her I had been treated for an embolism last week at this other hospital and she told me I could go to their ER straight away. So I went. And they took me in as patient right away. I was sent to a new lung X-ray and EKG and had some blood tests again. They took me into the cardiology department yet again.  

6.3.2020

Rounds started at 9am. The doctor came to me, asked me about my symptoms and how I'm feeling and told me: "Your scan from last week shows that you also have lung infractions in both your lungs (keuhkoinfarkteja) which has caused some parts of your lungs have gangrenes (kuolioita) and that means that some parts of your lungs aren't getting any blood and that's why you have these very painful lung pain "attacks" because you don't have blood running in your lungs and the gangrenes and infarctions go all the way from the bottom of your lung to the pleural cavity." 

Oh great. Life is awesome. One day I'm a normal athlete and the next part of my lungs are dying. The doctors don't know till what has caused this; their best solution is that my contraceptive pills (yhdistelmäehkäisypillerit) have made me me vulnerable to blood clots but they can't be sure. Anyway, I can't take contraceptive pills anymore, that ended the day they diagnosed me with this embolism. 

Days were dragging after this and I still felt like I didn't really have all the answers I wanted. I didn't rally understand how this happened to me. I didn't know what I was going to be able to do in a month, in 3 months, in 6 months? I had tons of school work I had to do at the hospital and then I was watching movies and series. I felt so useless and lazy.  

I'm discharged the week after but everything is still very unclear. The doctors are unsure how this will affect me as I want to do sports after all of this is over. They don't have clear instructions on how to start sports and what will be my lung capacity at the end. For now, I'm on an anticoagulant medication until September which makes me more vulnerable to hemorrhages (verenvuodot) as the medication makes my blood thinner. 

If you have read this far, thank you.

This has been an extremely hard journey both mentally and physically. To go from an active lifestyle to a lifestyle where you get tired from standing in the shower and feel like your lungs are burning after walking up the stairs, it is very tough on you. I am lucky enough to have wonderful caring and loving family, boyfriend and friends around me that have supported me during this extremely uncertain time. I am so grateful to be alive and to have gotten very good care from the one private clinic I went last and the hospital I went to twice. Life is unpredictable and during these times you start appreciating life and your own health a lot more than you do when everything works perfectly.

As many of you know, I'm this type of person who tries to hide the pain for as long as I can, I try to tough it out and observe rather than act straight away on symptoms. But even I saw and felt that something was wrong with me. You know your body best. If it isn't working like it should, if you are experiencing symptoms that don't feel normal, if you feel like your condition is deteriorating without a legitimate reason; please please see a doctor and ask for medical attention. It might end up being a life-threatening condition that requires actions or could lead to death for example. And if you don't get the help or answers on the first time, don't give up on yourself; you matter and so does your health!!! 

Take care of yourselves, 

xoxo Irène 

IF YOU'RE NOT IN IT, YOU CAN'T WIN IT

CONTENT WARNING

                 - please be advised that some people may find this post and its content disturbing -

On January 20th, 2018 I "celebrated" my knee's 5th anniversary. From the outside it might look like I'm okay, feeling well and have put that injury and the accident behind me - but I really haven't. As a matter of fact, this year's anniversary was probably the hardest one yet.... I have never felt so lonely and destroyed with the accident, disappointed in myself, felt so powerless and hopeless, there was an overwhelming feel of guilt and self-blame.




What most people see                vs.         What only a selected crew of people see (actual mood)



In fact, most January and February I felt extremely anxious, extremely sad and after a while, when it felt like everything was falling on me, pushed by my loved-ones, I seeked for professional help - for the first time after my accident and actually for the first time ever.

Turns out a couple of times was enough for me. I didn't feel like I was getting the kind of support I really would have wanted. Not that I knew exactly what kind of help I needed, but it sure wasn't what I was getting. I was crying on most days, I felt sad everyday and life just seemed to be a heck of an obstacle; nothing had a meaning and I was lost in my thoughts and emotions.



The need for help with mental health is drastically underrated. I think I would've coped somewhat better with my accident and the consequences it led to had I got a therapist to talk it through, talk about my feelings and learning to cope with the "new me" but most people don't really see the point in that... Neither did I. Looking back, I wish I had gone to see someone earlier because every year when January comes around, there's a period that is mentally extremely rough, a time that takes me back to the year 2013 when all of this started and I find it extremely hard to cope with those emotions and feelings, trying desperately to find answers but not getting any. I've been considered a tough person both mentally and physically for as long as I can remember in sports as well as life in general. But if this injury has taught me anything is, that no one has to be tough all of the time. I don't have to suffer in silence, cry by myself and find answers by myself. There are literally people out there to help us out. For us to be able to sit down and talk through the feelings we're going through, help us find answers or if not answers, ways to cope with the sadness and pain. Because an overwhelming amount of pain can lead to drastic consequences, as I've come to learn myself too (unfortunately), but I'm not going to talk about those here.
At the end, during the darkest times, my one thing, sports, that used to always bring a smile on my face wasn't fun anymore. Wasn't bringing a smile on my face. I was desperate and depressed. All I could really think of was, why was it me who got injured like this? Why can't anyone bring back my old knee? Why did I get complications that led to my second serious knee injury and eventually to the harsh truth that soccer and track&field weren't options for me anymore? Why wasn't sport fun anymore? What was wrong with me? What had I ever do wrong to get all of this shit when some people never break a bone in their whole life?
Only questions that I couldn't find the answer to... Was I just extremely unlucky or had I actually done something wrong, only stars can tell and I'll never know.



When the long and dark winter was finally over, the sun began rising again and I found ways to smile and be happy again. A big big thing was to be able to be happy doing sports again. It's been a massive way for me to cope during times of sadness, loneliness and guilt from the accident. I'm also extremely happy and grateful to have a crew of amazingly important people in my life whom each have made me survive one more day in the darkness while trying to find the light again. Little by little, life seemed to find its path again and I found this that I enjoyed doing again. I got to experience some things I never thought I would after my knee injuries and I had people who made me laugh and see the fun in life again. Step by step, I started doing sports again with a new motivation found and it felt extremely good to be back to the one thing that has always been some sort of rescue for me. Sweat felt and tasted good, and I was loving it.


Not gonna lie, life has been extremely hard at times in 2018, but I've had my moments and happiness is starting to be back in my life. Some big achievements of this year have been:

1) DOWNHILL SKIING

I never thought I'd be able to get back on a ski lift and a skiing hill let alone ski the hill down. None of my doctors thought I could do it, my parents were terrified and since the injury it always seemed like an unachievable obstacle; something I had done in the past but would never do again.
But defying all odds, I downhill skied 3 times during the past winter. Having my amazing boyfriend, supporter and a skier himself be by my side only made it more memorable and I will never forget my first time back on skis after 6 years!





2) FAMILY BIKE TRIP IN MT. TREMBLANT, QUÉBEC
I had the chance to have my family come to Canada for a short time this summer due to some family obligations. But we wanted to do something active as a family, before them going back to Finland and me staying here for my studies. So we decided to pack our bags and head to Mt. Tremblant for a couple of days, to rent bikes and have a great family time outdoors.
That's exactly what we got. One day of complete sunshine, a huge heat-wave and, on the other hand, a day of downpour rain - but we got what we came looking for - great biking trails and a great activity to do as a family.



















3) STARTING TRIATHLON
Year 2018 has been a year of new beginnings, and I decided to take up on a dream I have had for some time now: starting triathlon. McGill, my university, is offering a great chance to train and sweat learning about triathlon while meeting new amazing people. I don't know how my knee will like it, how it will react to the training or how much training it can take. But if you're not in it, you can't win it, right? I want to see this as an opportunity,and well, if it doesn't work out, at least I don't have to regret not giving it a try.  It's a chance for me to show that anything is possible, even with a stitched-up, crappy multi-ligament knee injury and total knee reconstruction -knee like mine. I wanna show that obstacles are meant to be overcome and you never know your limit unless you give it a chance. I know my knee sets some limits to certain things, but I want to do my best while following those restrictions. We only have one life to live, so why not make the mot out of it. I know I will have to give up on most sports at some point due to my knee, but I just don't want that time to be quite yet.

I guess what I really wanted to say with this post was that, no matter how hard and dark times get, there are always those people by your side who will help you through it. There is always help available outside of that love-ones -circle that is out there to help YOU out. Don't ignore your mental health because you're scared of talking about it, of being judged or think you're a burden. There's always a way out of the darkness. I'm thankful for people and for sports to keep me on track when I lose my sight for a period of time. It's a lot easier to be lost than found, but believe me it is healthier to be found than to be lost. Don't be alone at darkest times, seek help early and find the things that make you happy. Because in the end, happiness finds itself in the simplest of things: living, loving, laughing and enjoying the small things that eventually will give a smile on your face.

I’m gonna be okay.

20.1.2013 seems so far away already. My reconstructed knee is turning 5 years old today.

5 years.

261 weeks.

1827 days. 

43 848 hours. 

Those numbers put into perspective the time I've spent with my new knee. 2013 being far away also means that there have been immense amounts of days and hours and weeks of work, recovery, pain, setbacks and rehab involved. Looking back at this period of time I feel privileged. I don't mean I'm happy that I got injured this way, but I mean I've come at peace with the fact that this injury has made me grow in ways that I didn't even know I could, it's made a more mature and independent person, it's made me appreciate the little things in life, but most of all, it has made me the person I am today, January 20th, 2018. 

Earlier this week I had a little breakdown thinking about my injury date, all the emotions I went through that day and all the emotions I have had to go through since. I was sad and upset that I don't have the possibility to do some things I would do literally anything to be able to do one more time. I cried because the knee reconstruction made it impossible for my knee to recover to a point where my leg would be pain-free, normal and as strong as it was before. I know it will never ever be my "old" knee again and although I'm mostly at peace with that and don't really share the little time when I'm not at peace with it with anyone, but some days are so hard. So emotional. I'm a grown-up pretty much adult but I still have days I just look back and cry by myself. No one really understands and no one can really help and that's why I'd rather keep those little breakdowns to myself, but I'm sharing them now. There are times I think "Why me?" "Why not a smaller injury that I could've easily recovered from and got back to the sports I loved?". I don't think anyone will ever be able to give me those answers.

Someone asked me this week what they could do to help me feel better. I said there's nothing they can do but if there was one wish that was made true I would 110% take my leg back. Make my knee pain-free and functional and normal again. I would give so much to get that but unfortunately the world doesn't really work like that, does it? I sometimes wish that someone else would've had to deal with this injury instead of me, but then I realize that I'm not too unsatisfied with the strong and independent, motivated and understanding Irène I became, and if not fully, it's for the most part thanks to this injury. Kinda hilarious to thank an injury of this type but I realized already a while ago that if I wasn't ready to forgive myself I would never accept this injury and all its outcomes. By far the hardest part was to forgive myself. I forgave my doctors for not making my knee perfect again, I forgave everyone around me, I forgave even the girl who caused this injury to me even though she never apologized, but it took a much longer time to forgive myself. 

When I'm in a dark place in my mind I keep telling myself that if I'm going through hell I just need to keep going because even hell is not forever. You know, tough days can last long and feel like forever but even those days come to an end one day and the world starts smiling to you again. Or rather you start smiling to the world again. The dark places have, after all, taught me so much that I'm grateful even for them. Maybe not at the very moment going through them but looking at them afterwards, they make me appreciate everything I still have and everything I can still do so much more than I would without those hard days. 

Possibly the greatest lesson these five years have taught me has been that a person is exactly as strong as they decide to be. I did crumble during this journey more than once, or twice but the difference is that I got up after crumbling. Strength is something miraculously powerful that gets you through the hardest times and helps you keep your feet on the ground during the good ones. Of course I'm happy of every single lesson this journey has made me learn, but knowing my strength has been shaping me the most into the person I am today and I can say that even though I rarely am proud of anything I do, I'm pretty pretty proud about that. The world is not too bad of a place to live in sometimes and rather than being all sad about my knee situation, I've decided that these anniversaries are days that I can look back at all the work I've done and everything I've gone through to get to this point and smile back at the world. My brace and scars have become part of me. I deal with the pain and the small lack in the range of motion. My muscle strength is pretty much as good as it can be compared to the healthy knee. Life is about adapting to the new normal. I guess I can say I'm doing so to the best I can.

A person I care about a lot once said "The sun shines even through a pile of brushwood" and he was completely right. Life goes on no matter what and there's always a rainbow somewhere after the rain.

I'm gonna be okay.

~ fear of letting go ~

The moment of truth had finally come. Sitting in my surgeon's office in November 2016 after five knee surgeries - the latest one done a year earlier - my heart beating so fast it could come out of my chest at any second, I felt extremely anxious and nervous, but most of all I felt fear. Fear of what he would say. Fear of what would come next. My hands were sitting and I felt so uncomfortable, the moment just before he started talking looking at my x-rays, my mom sitting next to me. It felt painful - not physically painful, but emotionally painful yes.

And then that moment came. The moment I had been dreading for the past almost four years. The moment I was told soccer and heptathlon weren't options for me anymore. Ever. Neither was any other team sport that could involve any sort of twisting or pivoting of the knee. My world crumbled in front of my eyes. All the work I had done to eventually make a comeback to the two sports I loved was for nothing. I was devastated. That meant there would be no comeback. That I hadn't been working hard enough. That my knee was a piece of shit that could never get back to the things I once loved so very much. How could that happen? How could I be so unlucky I had to let go of such big parts of my life at the age of 19? Well, actually I had to let go of them already at 15, but I never wanted to believe in the comeback for as long as I could, because after all, comebacks are possible.

I didn't know how to be or what to say. What to do. I felt like everything I had was taken away from me - all at the same time. And it felt so unfair. Where would I ever find motivation to keep working hard after those news? My doctor told I'm lucky I'm walking after my injury and he told me that he cannot believe I'm still running. Sure, it did feel like I had done something right. But what had I not done enough to get back to soccer or track&field? It was something I couldn't understand. Or didn't want to understand.

The fear of letting go. It has the power over you. It wraps you around a dreaded network of feelings that you cannot get rid of. I feared of having to let go since my injury in January 2013, and in November 2016, I still was not ready to hear I have to let go. It is such a powerful statement, it makes you panic and being anxious. But when the actual moment of letting go came I didn't know what I was feeling anymore. My mind was empty and blank. And for some time after I had to stop thinking about getting back to soccer or track&field I felt sick just seeing or thinking about them. I couldn't watch soccer on TV and coaching track&field brought me back memories that turned into painful ones. I was a become a worse coach because I couldn't separate my own career with the career of my own athletes, but it was hard and painful and those happy, good memories of those two sports became more of a burden than a great thing to look back at.

I little over a year later things are different. Sure, soccer and track&field aren't part of my sport life in any way now, but the fear of letting go has turned into an appreciation toward the past, what I achieved and what I experienced for so many years with so many amazing people. The memories make me happy and looking back at them isn't all that painful anymore. I can watch soccer again. But, there will always be a part of me that will be sad and anxious that two of the greatest sports that gave me so much also took away from me. That after my injury I never got the chance to show myself and the world that there is a possibility of a great comeback. I never really got to say goodbye, you know. To say thank you for what you've given but it is time to move on. I never got that. All I got was a sudden, very tragic accident that led to both getting taken away from me without any sort of warning whatsoever. And that's what hurts about it the most. That's what made the fear of letting go soooo big. Because having to let go of something you are not ready to let go is scary and sad and unfair and just wrong. But life is not always what we want it to be or what we hope for. Adapting to the sadness and bouncing back doing new things is what counts.

I have found joy and happiness from other things. When I thought all I had was taken away I had to look myself in the mirror and tell myself there were still plenty of things in the world to try and do. And that's what I tell myself every time I miss my sports. I let the sadness get to me but I don't let it overwhelm me. The sadness is just enough to get me look at the memories with a little smile on my face. Those memories will always last no matter what even if new things come on my way. And life is pretty good, after all. Because it has so much to offer. We just gotta find those opportunities and enjoy them as much as we can. I don't get scared of having to let go anymore because I know now what it is. And even if it is hard and painful, it teaches us something - every time.

Year 2018 is just around the corner and I cannot wait for what it has to offer. January 2018 will also mean the 5-year anniversary of my knee injury. After all these years, it isn't a day of fear and sadness anymore, but rather a day to celebrate how far I've come and how much I can still do despite everything that I have had to go through. ♡

RACE DAY

Countless hours of rehab. A countless amount of frustration and tears. An unbelievable number of physio and doctor appointments. An overwhelming amount of ups & downs. That's what my life's been like since my latest reconstruction surgery done in November 2015.

Overcoming obstacles. Facing fear. Exceeding my own expectations. That's what today's post is about.

On June 10th, 2017 I ran my first race since my fifth surgery. A half marathon. 21,1 kilometers to be exact. Those 21,1km were hell, to be honest. I'm not going to lie, I wanted to quit after 6km, and then after 10km and then at 15km. I don't know what kept me going. Because my body was tired. My leg hurt. My feet were on fire. But I didn't quit. And I'm proud I didn't.

Just starting the race was a small miracle. The day after my surgery I told my physio that if I ever ran again I would do this half marathon. But it was easier said than done. My surgeon said before the surgery I'd be lucky to be able to walk normally after the operation. After the operation he said there was no guarantee I'd ever get back to running. Those words are not something you want to hear when you're 18 and full of energy and willingness to do all sorts and absolutely love sports. Despite the little desperation after the surgery it wasn't the time to cry over it. I decided right there not even 12 hours after the procedure that one day I would run again. Not sure when but one day.

And so started a long journey first back to put weight on the leg, then back to walking and walking normally, then jogging and later on running. I took my first running steps somewhere middle April 2016, that is only 5 months after my fifth knee surgery. Not bad for someone who was never supposed to run again due to such bad damage in ligaments, tendons, nerves and bones. I guess it's not completely incorrect to believe in small miracles after all.

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I hadn't anything longer tha 15-16km after my surgery due to pain in the knee while running. Due tro instability of the knee joints and due to uncertainty. Of course there were other factors as well that affected my running (such as heart problems etc.) and it wasn't always all about the knee. If my knee was having a good day my heart wouldn't cooperate and running was almost impoossbile. If it was the other way round and the heart was doing good, then my knee was just total crap.

Running hasn't felt the same after the surgery, my knee gets heavy after some time and it starts affecting myt whole leg not long after that. So honestly I wasn't sure a half marathon was the best choice to make. But I had promised myself and others I would do it, so there was no going back. I've never neen a quitter, this wasn't the time to start being one.

On the starting line, 5 minutes before the start I was nervous. I was overwhelmed to even be on the starting line. I was stressed whether my knee could take the stress or not. I was emotional as it was my first race since my surgery.
The run started. I wanted to prove to myself I could still get myself into competition and race mode, be fearless and not worry - just run. That's what I did. The first 5km was good, like I actually felt good, my knee was keeping up and my heart wasn't beating like crazy. But after the 5km mark, I faced mny worst fear. I started feeling pain in my knee, my heart rate went up way too fast and my body was tired, exhausted. I wanted to quit. I had to pull myself together not to cry. It was terrible. I crossed the 10km line. It felt like forever. I wanted to give up again. The running felt absolutely horrible, my legs didn't cooperate with me. I don't know what kind of mental strength helped me through it, but I did. I crossed the 15km line. Still 6km to go and I was so finished, so tired. But I just blindly trusted my will-power and kept running. At 20km I knew there was no chance in hell I was going to stop the run. I ran my fastest 1,1km right there, gave it all I had left in my body and probably peed in my pants during the last 100 meters ;D But that's okay. I FINISHED. I CAN SAY I'M A HALF MARATHON FINISHER HAVING HAD A TOTALLY DESTROYED KNEE TWICE.

Many people didn't believe I could run again after such injuries than mine. Many people lost trust in the ability of the knee to recuperate to a certain level. Many people said I should prepare myself to the worst and not expect anything else than the least. But I wanted to prove those people wrong, and I did.
Many people think my knee is fully recovered and functional again. They think all is good and I just quit track&field and soccer because I didn't want to go back to them anymore. The truth is, that's far from being the truth. My knee is far from being recovered, it will never ever be "normal" and "good" again. My knee will most probably keep getting worse as I use it and the already twice replaced spare ligaments/tendons/nerves will wear out at some point. More than anything I would want to play soccer again and do heptathlon again but the decision is no longer in my hands and doing them is impossible unless I want an artificial knee or a total knee replacement in the next year or so....

The feeling crossing the finish line was emotional - very emotional. I didn't cry but it was close. My mom and sister were cheering for me about 200m before the finish and it boosted me up. The totaly crappy feeling during the race was forgotten and I enjoyed it after all, after all the obstacles, after all the pain and all the frustration during the race. I was tired and exhausted but it was a happy kind of tiredness. I HAD DONE IT. I didn't break my promise. I don't think anyone would've been mad at me for not running it but it meant the world to me. I wanted to prove to myself but also proved to the people who've watched me closely that I'm not a zero. I'm still in love with sports and not just a couch potato after all.

I'm not very often proud of myself. But after the race I was proud. The time didn't satisfy me (as many things don't when it comes to sports...) but that's not what I was proud of. I was proud of the journey I've gone through. I'm proud of the work I've done. I have beat myself to hell some days when I don't get myself to run or train but that day I got myself to run 21,1km despite a lot of challenges. It was a big thing for me. I didn't win the race, but I didn't have to. I won myself and that's what counts.








I know the time will come that one day my knee will be in such bad shape I will need the total knee replacement done. But that day isn't today. So I'm enjoying today as it is. My today isn't the same it was before but that is okay. I can't live the present if I always keep stressing out about the future and my knee's contidion. Let future come when it comes and what comes with it just come. I have faced so many obstacles that I'm not letting them take me down no matter what the future holds. I will keep doing the things I can as long as I can to be able to say later that I lived life to the fullest.
And as long as I can run I will push hard to get my knee stronger.

just a matter of time

20.1.2013. Four years. 1462 days.

Not a day passes by without mee seeing the outcome of my knee injury. Today marks the 4-year-anniversary of my knee accident and it hasn't gotten that much easier to face that day. Flashbacks come to my mind. Nightmares. Little reminders like that. 

Life has been different every day after that injury and I would lie if I said I don't miss my earlier life. I'm ready to let out something that I haven't been able to share with most people. The day I got injured I literally wanted to die. Not because I was mad that it happened to me, not because I thought it was unfair. But because I was in so much pain. Dying at that point felt to me like the easier option and honestly, it probably would have been. Having a detached knee with no function, bad dislocation, no ligaments, ruptured tendons and veins, bone tissue and bone damages and massive blood flood, I can tell you even blinking an eye hurt. Hurt like hell. I do describe myself as a tough person both mentally and physically, being able to face injuries without really complaining. But that day, it was too much even for me. 

Waking up today made me think of how far I've come from that day. For most people it might seem like not much as I am still unable to do certain things but for others it's been a long, even massive, road. Both my doctor and my physio are mind-blown about the fact that I am able to job, let alone run, jump, coach amongst other things. Believe it or not, a year ago, after my big reconstruction surgery, it wasn't sure whether I'd be able to walk again. Some of you might be laughing behind the screen but it's no joke for me - it's reality. 

4 years ago I was close to lose my leg from below the knee due to massive vein and nerve damage but here I am, standing on my own to feet still. It was just a matter of time until my blood flow would stop in my leg. And here comes my first big lesson I've learned: I don't take the capability to walk or run for granted anymore. 

The second big lesson I've noticed: Muscle loss takes forever to come back!!!! Guys, remember, you lose muscle so fast but you gain it back so slow. Your leg just shrinks in no time and man what a trouble it is to get even have of the muscles back. But the work is worth doing, honestly! 

Going through rough hopsital patches, sleeping like crap, being sleep-deprived, going through surgery, dealing with the pain and trying to cope without too many painkillers..... Just some of the reasons that made me become very unsociable all of a sudden. I always saw my friends doing sporst, it came naturally without the need of putting too much effort trying to find suitable times. I would just see my friends everyday first at school and then at practice. But after my knee surgery I was depressed, I wanted to be alone, I didnät want anyone see me in the state I was currently in. I was miserable and in pain and I was stuck inside four walls for most of the days. So really, I'm sorry for all my friends who had a grumpy and sad Irene for many many months following the injury. 

As sport was pretty much my entire life before the injury, my life felt pretty empty afterwards. That is wht the third big lesson for me was: Put your effort, focus and energy on something you can still have an affect on. That something for me was school. It was a big year for me with tons of exams and I had to cope with those doing home-school for over two months. Jeez, that taught me some self-discipline. When you alone are responsible for your school work, you have to put so much more effort into it than when you're at school having a teacher do half of the work. But I'm glad I had to go through home-school because it showed me the requirements good results require. 

I had a hard time understanding and accepting the fact that after my knee injury people would see me suffer. The moment I got injured I felt embarrassed, because of me the game had to be stopped. I felt ashamed because people saw me crying my eyes out and wishing to be dead. I was confused because I didn't know how to describe the pain when everyone was asking it. I wanted to crawl under the ground (or die) because I didn't want to face other people staring at me. I hated it. Only recently I've realized pain is okay sometimes. To be honest, I still do everything in my power to hide it from everyone and it's mostly working but even I do have bad days where nothing goes right. But it's okay. We are allowed to cry. We're allowed to be in pain and feel bad. 

Unfair, I thought when I heard how severe the injury was. Why was I supposed to bear this when so few people do? And it wasn't even me who had caused the accident... Life is unfair sometimes, it is unpredictable and this could've happened to anyone else instead. Quite honestly I'm happy no one else did. Feel lucky. You don't have a burden to carry for the rest of your life. But I wouldn't have wanted to see anyone get hurt like this. Not in this way because this is a life-changing happening. 

What I never really realized was why did the girl who hurt me never apologize? After all, because of her I will be forever unable to play soccer and I will have restrictions for the rest of my life. All I had really wanted was three words: I am sorry. But she never did. I'm not balming her. But because she never apologized for years I've seen this injury as my fault. Blaming everything that happened on myself. So self-destructive and self-harming, but that is what I did. Bamed myself. Put myself down. Just because the one girl who was involved in the accident the most couldn't open her mouth and say she was sorry. I know that 99/100 cases would end up just fine both players being totally healthy no issues but in this 1/100 cases she ruined my dreams and that's why I would've needed those three words. 

Today,

1462 days,

35 088 hours,

2 105 280 minutes and

126 316 800 seconds 

later, I am a 19-year-old girl, who lost her teenage years to a knee injury. An injury that required self-discipline, commitment, focus, leadership, independent initiative, independency, self-confidence and a mature view on facts of life.

 It did take away my teenage years as I wasn't able to live freely, without worrying, seeing my friends and doing what I loved. I was pushed to a limit where I was responsible for everything I did, everything I was faced with. It's been a rough time, really rough time but it's also been a road that has taught me hugely about my life and the society I live in.

There's really no one else who can do the work for me and that is why where I am today reflects the work and commitment I've put into this injury and its rehabilitation. I have been helped by my family who's been by my side this whole time, my physios and my surgeons, my friends and other significant people along the way - thank you for all of you ❤

Even though I still wish I could go back in time I'm happy with what I've got now. It's a lot less than what I have before but at the same time it's also so much more than what I had before. Without this injury, I probably never would've been faced some great volunteer work projects and a lot of other things.  Coaching has brought me a lot of new perspective into things and being rewarded "coach of the year" just shows me that my commitment, whether it was when I do sports or when I coach others do sports, is always and will remain in high standards.

Injuries have been occurring in my lifre a little too often I'd say, but now, four years after the biggest injury of my life, I am finally able to say this out loud:

"I'm grateful for what this injury has taught me, grateful for what I'm still able to do, thankful for the experiences I've been faced with due to my injury, and (almost) happy with the progress I've made" 

Although for a long time I did, I no longer see that I could've done a lot differently along my rehabilitation process. As a matter of fact, I think I've done even more, achieved the impossible. Coming from doctors being sorry that I might lose my leg and that I might never walk again to doctors saying how proud they are of what I have achieved warms my heart. 

My fight will continue, in all probability, for the rest of my life but I am eager to see what it will bring to me. If nothing else I know how strong I am now and that whatever life will throw at me, I'm ready to face it. I just hope the next four years will be a little easier than the past four years have been.  

 I'm glad I didn't think of death too long after my injury. It haunted me for a while being a mental burden but getting back to sports really helped me. It's okay to have bad thoughts sometimes as long as we can get rid of them and understand the true meaning behind those bad thoughts. I saw myself as a failure for a long time, but I no longer think that is what defines me.

 "I fight for my health everyday in ways most people don't understand. I'm not lazy. I'm a warrior."