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."

* ONE YEAR *

It's been a heck of a year. This year has a big meaning in my life. It represents so many things. It has made me open up my eyes to new opportunities, to new ways of thinking and looking at things. 365 days sounds to me like a very long time, but in a recovery such as this one, it is only the first step forward.
So what has this year been for me then? Crazy. Busy. Hectic. Rough. Good. Important.

Last year (10.11.2015) I was going to surgery with mixed feelings. My knee looked normal, I ran crazy kilometers, I was able to do most things normal people would do (except maybe play ball games...) but I managed. I walked to the surgery room, I climbed on the bed on my own, and it was somehow really hard for me to picture that when I'd wake up I could do nothing of those on my own, without someone's help. I was going to surgery with a(n) (almost) normal knee and coming out of it with a full-length cast from toes to hip, in such pain that just sitting or standing up hurt. Laying there, on the surgical bed, waiting for the anesthetic doctor my mind kept wandering to my last knee injury, the surgeries it lead me to, and those things' repercussions. Already that was rough for me so I knew this would me even tougher. A lot had happened since January 2013 but still... Even though I had waited for this surgery for almost a year, I didn't know whether I was fully ready mentally, yet. The anesthetic doctor came at around 8:25 am, put a mask on my face, and for the fifth time in my life my film was cut right there.

Waking up from the surgery at 6:00 pm my whole body was in agony. It was sharper pain than after my last total knee reconstruction but at least this time I didn't throw up on myself. I saved the nurses from cleaning me up in that way :P I was in the recovery room probably for around 5 hours, three nurses kept running around me as I wasn't breathing properly. They re-put the oxygen mask for me to get enough air. I kept losing consciousness. I remember vaguely one of the nurses saying: "Your dad and sister are here, would you like to see them". OMG NO, I DON'T WANT TO SEE THEM IN THIS STATE I thought but didn't get any word out of my mouth. I was pushed into my own private room at 8:25pm (12 hours after the start of my surgery now) and there they came, my younger sister and my dad. I still had my eyes half closed and I couldn't bother trying to open them more. They had been waiting at the hospital since around 6:pm so I had kept them waiting for a while now, ups :D Honestly I don't remember much of their visit, I was still under anesthetics a little bit and really out of it. But from what my sister and dad have told, they were talking to me and I was just fell asleep in the middle of their sentences.

During that night, the nurses bumped into my room every 1-2 hour(s). I was half awake, half asleep. In pain, I asked for medication but they wouldn't give me any. Instead, they stabbed me with needles (most probably some pain relieve medication) to my shoulder and stomach, and let me tell you, when you're half asleep, it scares the crap out of you. And they give you very elegant bruises as well. My leg, on the other hand, was just a big stack on 5 pillows, not being able to move one single bit. It felt so heavy, so painful. It was contradictory to think that with a messed up knee I had been able to do most things, and now after the surgery, I was able to do nothing (felt like going backwards big time) but I knew it would eventually, maybe one day, be better than the knee I had for a year.

The next four days were spent at the hospital. I don't think the nurses had seen a surgery like mine before as they kept getting together around my bed to admire my willingness to stand up the following day of the surgery. I wouldn't necessarily have needed to as I had (forgive me for this not-very-appealing explanation) a tube that collected my liquids instead of the toilet. But that was the reason that pushed me to get up. I wanted to myself state when was time to go to the bathroom. And light-headed, not having much energy, and the nurses having a coffee pause, I stood up. With my crutches I took about 2 minutes to walk a 10-meter distance to the bathroom. But was it worth it, yes it totally was!! I was not going to be a bed-bound patient, and I wanted to prove to myself I could push myself.

My syrgery was done on the 10th of November 2015, and I had sick leave from school until January when school started again after Christmas break. Despite that, I asked my mom to drop me to the school four days after the surgery. I wanted to see friends. I missed the atmosphere at school. You don't really miss it until you're absent from school. From November to January I had to take care of my school tasks on my own (aka home-schooling) which is hard honestly. I've always been someone how is driven to work hard to achieve certain goals in life, but I had a rough time doing all that school stuff. And there was A LOT of it. At that time I had 9 different classes and subjects like math, physics, chemistry, human biology etc. So yeah, I struggled big time trying to find that motivation. But I did all my courses and I passed all of them with good grades (which to me was a little surprise to be honest).

What really annoyed me about the timing of my surgery were two major things. 1) Our 2-week Christmas holiday to Thailand got cancelled because I wasn't able or even allowed to fly due to blood clots in my leg, and because my recovery had only taken babysteps by Christmas and 2) I wasn't sure whether I could take part to my winter prom in February. I did my winter prom (skipping some of the dances but still doing a big part of them) and it was a very happy and memorable day despite the pain in my knee for the next three weeks or so. To be honest, this past year I don't remember many days where I wouldn't have experienced any pain at all. It's part of me now.



I'm not ashamed of my knee, on the contary, that's what has brought me to where I am today. I am not ashamed for the pain I've experienced (I do try to avoid talking about the pain though) , it's made me stronger. I know we cannot have the rainbow without a little rain, and despite having had a whole bunch of rain, I still feel privileged to be able to do the things I do today. Because it wasn't something I could take for granted. Only a year ago I was told I might never walk nor run again. I panicked, felt depressed. I did not understand why I had to go through something like that. BUT. Here I am, 365 days later standing on my two feet being able to walk, run, bike, do triathlons, swim, rollerblade, climb, go to the gym, coach and many other things. I might not have all the amenities I had before my knee injuries but they've been replaced with many many new things I've learned and been privileged to see and do.

For a long time I thought undergoing surgery and being in a lifelong recovery process meant failure. Just recently I've understood I was wrong. So wrong. Being on a recovery process means much more mental and physical strength, the ability to learn to endure different kind of pain, learning to respect and listen to your own body, knowing your own limits, discovering your own strengths etc. Those are just some of the things I've crossed during the past year + the almost three years of the recovery process from the previous knee injury.

I am happy today. I am unhappy and upset at times. But the past can't be changed and this is my new reality. I never thought I would said this, but I'm thankful for my injuries and 5 surgeries because without them I wouldn't be the person I am today. I wouldn't know what true mental and physical strength mean. I wouldn't have appreciated me being healthy (I am sad to say I never appreciated enough my health and the joy it brought to my life before the accidents) and I probably wouldn't have met all the wonderful people I've got to meet through my surgeries and physical therapy visits amongst other things as well.

365 days have passed, sometimes slower sometimes faster but the Earth keeps moving. Things will get better evetually, we just need to believe in what we do. And I'm strived and determined to go forth, push myself and do what I can in order to keep getting better and better. Being injured doesn't mean I'm more vulnerable or weaker, it means I have the opportunity to bounce back and be stronger than ever. It gives me the opportunity to discover more about myself, about my knee, about my limits.
My knee's story is not over. I keep building it. Maybe one day it will feel good again even though it's very unlikely. But until then, I am happy with everything I am able to do today. It's been a long way, but the journey continues. It isn't over yet. My hope is still high as my expectations as well. And I'm not planning on quitting any time soon. So watch out world, you haven't seen all of it yet!

Our life isn't only about competing, seeking for the first place and the feeling of victory. Our life is not only performing for someone else without really being happy or able to take a minute and rejoice. Life is so much more than that. Life is enjoying the moment, living day by day, being happy about what you do and appreciating the little things. In the end, little things matter and they together form the entirety. And those little things are the stepping stones in my rehab as well. Believe in yourself, trust your knowledge and instincts and remember:  "Whatever life throws at you, even if it hurts you, just be strong and fight through it. Remember, strong walls shake but they never collase."

~ Hope knows no fear,

 this too shall pass ~

XOXO

totally reconstructed knee -girl

behind the scenes

As part of a knee surgery recovery I had to adapt to many situations I felt were very obvious and automatic before my injury. They sound stupid to others but they are so difficult when your leg does not bend at all and it feels like you're carrying a leg three times as heavy as your whole body in total. I've heard so many comments on some of the facts that it has quite upset my sometimes but I do understand that they might sound odd, even exasperating to someone just listening to them, that's what it was to me as well. "Don't judge a book by its cover" is something even I had to learn: because as we never know what will happen in the future this can very well be something one of you will have to experience as well. We might have a smile on our faces even though we're hiding some difficulties behind it, this is kind of the same. They are facts that we'd rather not share but that keep distracting us from our daily routines as we have to put so much effort to do them.



1. Going to the bathroom
Might seem like an evident part of our daily routines but let me tell you, going to the toilet with a full-length cast is not easy at all. Finding a suitable position for your leg is hard.




2. Taking a shower
Many of my friends laughed at me when I said that either my mom or my sister had to come to the shower with me to remove my cast, shower me and later put my cast back on. It does sound weird to havent your parent shower you when you're 18 years old yes, but it's not like I didn't try to go to the shower by myself. It is quite hard to walk on wet floors with crutches let alone trying to wipe yourself when your leg does not move. So I had my mom or my sister wiping my leg and putting my bandages and cast back on.



3. Going up/down the stairs
Honestly it is something that can be learnt by time especially when you're on crutches for more than 4 months in a row but during winter time your crutches are slippery and wet and going up and down the stairs is pretty sketchy let alone risky!




4. Recovery can be slow
To be honest I had no idea what "a long recovery" meant before my injury. I had suffered a bad ankle injury at the age of seven and I did ankle follow-ups for seven years. For a 7-year-old kid at that time it seemed like forever. But I can understand now that that wasn't too long of a time after all. This knee recovery is actually SLOW, there are no other words to describe it. For two days that you make improvement there is one day that  you go down and your knee feels worse. So it really isn't advancing too fast.


5. Yes, I still have pain after almost fours years of the initial accident
It does sound to some people that I'm joking and faking to have pain but I have pain almost everyday, almost constantly. The pain is part of me now and I'm mostly used to it but some days it is really bad, I normally don't show it though. But I still hear frequently questions like "How can you still be hurting?" , "Is your knee still in pain?" , "Wasn't your injury like many years ago?". Yes it was a long time ago, but yes it is still hurting.


6. Mental pain
Mental pain is one of the worst things I know that comes along with this injury. Of course the physical pain is bad, terrible some days and something I would wish to no one, not even my worst enemy (although I think that for the most part, I'm my worst enemy). But the amount fof mental pain the injury brings with it, is quite extraordinary. I was strong already before my accident but I honestly had no idea of how strong I actually was before dealing with this amount of mental (and physical pain).
Mental is a concept of which meaning I was quite unaware before actually having to learn it myself. Mental pain is very stressing, nerve-wrecking and energy-consuming and it reduces the overall well-being. This might sound like a very strong image but I don't think I'm over-reacting to it. I've had quite a rough time trying to learn and cope with the mental health and the problems it causes. I never talk about them too much because I feel like being a whiner by doing so but I know it would be good to get it all out from time to time.
But Like Michael Jordan (a famous basketball player) once said: My attitude is that if you push me towards a weakness, I will turn that weakness into a strength."



7. This injury makes you quite vulnerable
I hate to write this on here and I hate telling this to myself but unfortunately it is only the truth. Having had this injury we are more at risk to other lower-body injuries and moreover, to injuries to other parts of the body trying to protect our injured leg. I learned this the hard. After my first injury I thought I was again invincible as I had manage to recover pretty well from my first injury that had at frist seemed like an injury that would end all my sports and furthermore even walking. But then. I found out that maybe the leg isn't 100% like my other leg and so I am recovering probably for life-long this time. Yes, we are more vulnerable and more probable to get injuries but no, we are not bed-bound. We are not taken down until we ourselves choose so. And that's why I've chosen to fight, no matter what.





8. It's not the medals that count but the journey
We might never win medals anymore. We might never even be able to take part to competitions, tournaments, meets or whatever we were taking part in before the injury. But for us it is no longer the medals that count, but the journey to a "so-called healthy knee" (it'll never be 100% healthy but as healthy as it can be). The journey is much more meaningful that crossing the finish line first. Of course I would do anything in my power to get back to the sports I loved so much but as time has passed I've started to realise it might never be possible again. That is why I try to make to most of every´improvement I make whether it was big or small, because we never know what will happen tomorrow. The journey might take a life-long time but that means you get to enjoy your improvements for the rest of your life.

9. You are your biggest enemy during recovery
Yes, you are. There are so many things that can go wrong during recovery, so many things only you can affect and no one else. Of course you have doctors and physiotherapists around you, you have your family and friends to support you, your coach to help you but in the end, you're the only one that can truly take care of your own body. Hard lesson to learn, at least for me.

 


10. Sometimes less is more
This is closely linked to the previous one. But yes sometimes doing less is actually more during critical moments of the recovery. Of course some days you have to work really hard in order to gain strength, range of motion, be able to walk again, balance, everything. BUT, sometimes we need to cool down, just stop for a second and let our body rest and heal. Because that is what it needs sometimes. And by doing less sometimes if gives us the energy we need to later push hard again.



Strength doesn't come from what you can do. It comes from overcoming the things you once thought you couldn't do.