Lots of people ask me what happened to my knee. I often gloss over the details because I don't want that awkward look or groan in sympathy. But here is the perfect forum to go into every little bit of it with that little space between me and you. So if you ever wanted to know about what happened to the knee... please read on.
This is taken from an e-mail I sent to some friends a few days after I had the accident.
I would love to make this a personal e-mail - but every time I go through it I sob.... so please, imagine us all having some choc Sara Lea in someones lounge wearing trackies and drinking coffee........Sorry about the length. Treat it as a toilet read or something.
On Sunday I was keen for a big ski. I hadn't been out since Thursday and was stinging. It had been snowing heaps and I was awake early; bright and refreshed. Tim wanted to lay in and the likes... I was like a bear cub, squirming away. "C'mon, lets go!!!!"
We got up there about lunch time, with only a couple of hours before work. We went down a run called Mirharashi. It's amazing and I go down there all the time. It's deep powder, steep, with trees on the side and lovely little kickers to give you a 'lift' as you squeal with delight (or I do) zipping in and out of the trees.
Tim had just told me I was looking amazing - my style was terrific and he had never seen me ski like that. My confidence was soaring - so I didn't mind when the visibility lessened. I knew he was watching and I went for a turn to impress. My skis got caught and I nearly went into the splits. My ancient wound from gym (tore a tendon in my groin) shouted at me and I pulled my legs together really quickly. Everything except the lower half of my left leg came with me. The lower half stayed right out there. I felt it give and I threw myself up in the air. I landed really quite well after the self sacrificing tumble, with both of my legs together, but nothing could mask the pain.
A wave of agony swept over me and I wailed - I howled. I barely heard myself but I know that when I paused for breath, I knew it wasn't enough and I wailed again. Then a sea of heat fell over me, then nausea. I ripped off my gloves, my helmet and then went to take off my jacket. I stopped before I took it off - luckily.
Poor Tim was terrified by the whole thing. You know me, as he does, I don't make a fuss if I'm hurt. But this pain terrified me. He has his snowboard off and was running up the hill toward me before I could get breath for the second scream. But I got it together before he got to me. Popped off my skis with my hands (you should see the blood blister) and quickly packed my knee in ice - a move I am so grateful for. We sat there together for a moment. Then he suggested ski patrol - me? No!
Ten steps down and I was defeated. They took about 40 mins. Wrapped a cardboard splint around my leg with red gaffa tape and bundled me into an aluminium canoe. They wanted to zip the orange liner over my face but I wouldn't let them. I didn't care if I was cold, I wanted to see out, see the sky... and if I tumbled while they carried me, see the way out! The skiing bit was okay. Then they attached me to the skido - with the sirens. I was embarrassed. Then it tried to go up a little hill and did burnouts, with the sirens - everyone would have been looking!!!!
When they got me out, I couldn't walk on my own at all. I got home and got inside. I went to bed and slept. I didn't want to think about what had happened. Tim came home right after work to see how I was. He got me ice and dinner and was so tender.
So I went to the hospital yesterday. Our housemate Toa (pronounced Toar) drove me and translated for me for a part of it. We really are very lucky. We are in a lovely home with lovely housemates. I'm so glad this didn't happen while I was still in the local town, Kutchan. I would have had no support and three flights of stairs to negotiate. At the hospital, they x-rayed me - I don't know why. I saw the x'rays and you can't see what the tendons or ligaments are doing - although I suppose to know I haven't broken my knee is an important start.
Then the doctor saw me. They wanted to remove the fluid from my knee and told me if there was any blood in it (?) that it was my ACL. At the time I believed them because I couldn't move my leg, or put weight on it and I was very vulnerable. They put a 10cm long syringe into my knee cap (very nice) and pulled out 50ml of blood. So they said to me, its probably ACL and I probably need an operation. I fell apart. It seems I always have to have an operation. I got home and didn't want to call or write anyone because I would worry anyone, I called Tim. He's so rational and over the phone was a bit 'sensible'. You know what I mean - men and their 'solutions'. I called him later to say I was okay and he said he had been trying to think how to get in touch with me to say sorry too! He was late home and I had had no dinner, so doubtless there were tears and laments. He said some amazing things like - we are in this together - if you need to go home, I'll come too (won't let him - If I come home for an operation - I'm coming back to meet him. This trip is not going to waste after all my careful planning.) I'll take care of work, you don't worry about anything - all that sort of thing. I'm such an independent person, I never thought I would really feel a team with someone. But I am.
Today, when I woke, it didn't hurt. I don't think it's my ACL at all. I think it is something called the fibular collateral ligament. Apparently it rarely breaks if your knees are bent, but I distinctly remember worrying that I was going into the splits and I jerked my legs together - so they would have been straight. Also, I can walk on it If I curl my leg inwards like a duck. The draining of the fluid has given me loads more movement and I was even able to drop into the restaurants and bar tonight (with a lift from Toa) I went grocery shopping and cooked a lovely meal. A long way from the desperation and despair of last night.
On Friday (once MBF gives the okay on the assessment - they are looking at my medical report from the hospital) I will get an MRI and a definite report. I don't have my hopes up too much about the whole thing - but if they suggest surgery, I may seek a second opinion. I'm tired of surgery. I think skiing is a write off for the rest of the season though. I'm terribly disappointed. The snow here is amazing and I have been having so much fun. To your disappointment, I may try and come back next season - after a visit home, of course! But only one month out of three is a little sad. I hope you understand.
I would love to say I might be right for skiing in two weeks - but to be brutally honest - its not worth life time injury, is it? I'm just happy I'm up and about and I have a lovely camera. Get ready for some arty shots!
So that was my position before my MRI. The results showed a torn ACL and damage to my MCL. There were subsequent insurance battles over physio and braces, but I got what I wanted and was given four weeks with a super physio and a full length titanium brace. I was back at work in three days and I was on the hill skiing in five weeks. The rest of the round the world trip was faultless (except we didn't do the Inca Trail in Peru because of my injury) and we did go back for a second amazing season.
Now that I am home properly I went and saw a surgeon. He pulled my knees this way and that to see if they showed weakness. He went - 'Hmmmmm' and asked for a second MRI. The results of this one showed that my ACL had not snapped but popped out of the bone. It then floated around for a bit and suckered itself onto some other bit inside my knee, probably the other ligament, the PCL. This leaves my knee a little less strong and a little less stable than it was before my injury but I don't need surgery. My grin hurt my face for about a week. He's referred my to a physio. I haven't been yet, of course.
And of course, we're heading back to Japan next season.
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