The longest month that has flown by...

I have spent the past month a lot quieter than I had originally anticipated. My operation was on May 27th and the road to recovery started immediately after - it just hasn't been the road that I had imagined I would be taking.

As a dancer, someone who has spent my entire lifetime training and working with my body, I had convinced myself going into this that I would easily come out on top in record time… that I would be the usual over achiever that I have been told that I am and work through this recovery like a champ. I had prepared for the pain, I had prepared for the fact that I was going to be out for a while (in retrospect maybe I hadn't fully committed to/ accepted this), and I had prepared for the fact that I was going to have to spend a lot of time working. However, I never prepared for the fact that I was going to take a little longer - and this has hung over me like a dark cloud of shame, frustration and fear with an awesome side of loneliness over the past few weeks.

My very practical and understated 10 pound fashion statement

Immediately after surgery I was ready… I was wrapped in a 10lbs dressing, and I was ready to get back to my normal self (I was also still feeling the drugs and that glorious nerve block - side note. ALWAYS GET THE NERVE BLOCK)… It took about 2 days for the intense burning pain to hit me like wall (when the nerve block wore off)… this thing needed to get off my leg NOW (dare you not to laugh at the picture)! Now, through all of this I have to say my family earned the title of super hero - rockstar - badasses… knee surgery is no joke, and in some ways its just as hard for those who are taking care of you. They helped me bathe, walk, eat, my mom was up every 4 hours making sure I took my meds, they must have done hundreds of squats lifting my leg (while I tried not to show them how much pain I was in), and most importantly they stood there as I screamed in the most intense pain I have ever felt in my entire life, every time I stood up off the couch. Once I was put in my walking brace, I immediately felt relief - I thought great now I can start, now I can get back in it.

Boy was I wrong. My body had something else in mind. I had put together the most fool proof, committed and determined action plan - I was attending Physiotherapy 3 times a week, doing my exercises for an hour 3 times a day, eating well and taking my vitamins. I was working as hard as I could to reach those milestones that had been set as my goals, but still, it wasn't progressing the way I wanted. My body was fighting me every step of the way. Every time I would pull my foot in my muscles would fight back, preventing me from doing what I so badly wanted to do. This is when the frustration set in… why was my body fighting me? As the days went on this frustration grew, and eventually morphed into shame. Why was this not working for me? Why was I not meeting the norms? And why was my body fighting me when I was doing everything right?

For the first time in my life, I felt so disconnected from my body, and ashamed that as a dancer, and athlete I was struggling so hard. I couldn't help but feel that everyone I was working with felt the same. All of the research and conversations that I had and had done prior to this did not line up with what was actually happening with my body (or at least thats what I thought). You always hear when you are recovering that everyone is on their own journey, and that you have to listen to your body and things will progress when they are ready… Well for someone who wasn't fully ready or accepting of the 12 month recovery that was initially stated by the surgeon, I just assumed that my body would listen to me and beat that 12 month recovery time.

My mind was starting to win… and not in a good way. The one thing that I was right about with this initial recovery period was that the mental part was going to be the hardest part. Not only am I going through an injury and recovery, but it has taken me away from dance, away from my job, away from my friends, away from my boyfriend, and away from travel. Even though I am so in love with my family and as I have started they are the bomb.com and have helped me so much… I was still missing out on everything that my year was supposed to be. As I am very quickly realizing (now), this recovery is not just about my physical recovery and I wont be able to do one without the other.

I am usually- although may seem surprising at the moment- a very optimistic and flexible person, however this… this is different. I think it is important to get mad, get frustrated… it means that I still give a shit. But the skill is learning how to not let that stuff overshadow all of the good that is still happening. As I said this is a very lonely journey even when surrounded by people, so you have to find your own joys, and your own accomplishments. I have been working hard to find the balance between these two and I have not mastered this yet, but I am working at it.

As I move forward I am trying to put more focus on the mental side... the physical will come and I have a lot to be happy about, a lot of good has happened this month! I was home for my recital to support my students for the first time in 5 years, its summer at the cottage, I have been able to hold my friends perfect new little baby girl, I saw Book of Mormon with my dad, I am spending more time with my family than I have been able to in years... and THE RAPTORS WON (incase you haven't heard #wethechamps). There have also been A LOT of 'little big deals' as I am calling them... I can now shower alone- standing up, I can put my shoes on by myself, I don't want to pass out every time I stand up, I can walk again (although I have dancer swag where it looks like I have done about 2000 too many squats), and I can sit in the front seat of the car!!!! These are all pretty incredible things that I cannot take lightly, soI have started to dedicate some of my time to my mental health daily… Throughout the past 5 weeks I have done a little exercise for myself where I try to write down something new everyday … something that I couldn't do yesterday that I can today. Looking back is a nice motivator and reminder when I am feeling a little crappy.

One thing that I have not lost during this initial bumpy road is my determination to be better than ever and a clear sight of where I want to be… where I will be!

37 days post op