Ten years ago, on February 10, 2015, I had bilateral knee replacement surgery. That’s both knees, at the same time. I had just had both hips replaced 15 months earlier — on December 2, 2013.
Our Lola Jean was just six months old. A few years earlier, I had stopped taking all of my RA treatments — hoping to start a family. It took much longer than we anticipated, leading to irreparable damage to my body.
After I had both hips replaced, I tried to go back on the “cocktail” of medications that had kept my RA symptoms at bay for roughly eight years — but none of them worked.
On top of that, despite my new “hardware,” I knew that, with no cartilage left in my knees, not replacing them wasn’t an option. I could barely walk, and was using a cane to get around.
I knew that my recovery after knee replacement surgery would be much more difficult than my hips. I also knew that, after surgery, I still needed to find a treatment that worked for me. It would be a long and difficult road.
As I laid in bed, using my CPM machine to prevent scar tissue from forming around my new knees, I became despondent. I was angry. I was frustrated. I wondered why all of this was all happening to me.
I wondered what kind of father I could be for Lola Jean. The only way I could hold her was if someone brought her in to see me. I was in a very dark place… What other surgeries would I face in the future? How can I keep my job? How could I possibly be a good dad?
I was broken. It was all too much.
That’s when Amy came in and told me I was like the Phoenix — the mythical creature that symbolizes rebirth and renewal — a metaphor for burning the past and “rising from the ashes” to begin anew.
I felt something in my soul. I pushed myself to recover. My doctor told me I could’ve taken MUCH more medication to ease my pain — but I refused. I was told I could go back to work after three months… I went back in two. I worked through the pain.
My “defining moment” came one day when I heard Amy with Lola in the other room. I wasn’t going to just lay there any longer. I wanted to see my baby girl.
I took a deep breath, swung my bandaged legs over the side of the bed, and pulled myself up onto my walker. I shuffled down the hall and into Lola’s room. Seeing her little face light up as I leaned over her crib, that’s when I decided — I would NEVER give up.
It was also around this time that I had discovered one of my favorite quotes, from Mark Twain: “What is joy without sorrow? What is success without failure? What is a win without a loss? What is health without illness? You have to experience each if you are to appreciate the other. There is always going to be suffering. It’s how you look at your suffering, how you deal with it, that will define you.”
Ten years after what I consider to be my “darkest hour,” I am grateful for all that has happened since. I’m grateful for the perspective that living with chronic illness and chronic pain has given me. I am grateful to be able to share MY journey with others, in the hopes that they, too, can find the strength to keep on going.
Happy 10th aKNEEversary to me!
#PSNeverGiveUp
