Issue link: https://www.massageandbodyworkdigital.com/i/1505456
L i s te n to T h e A B M P Po d c a s t a t a b m p.co m /p o d c a s t s o r w h e reve r yo u a cce s s yo u r favo r i te p o d c a s t s 31 L i s te n to T h e A B M P Po d c a s t a t a b m p.co m /p o d c a s t s o r w h e reve r yo u a cce s s yo u r favo r i te p o d c a s t s 31 she tripped and tore her meniscus so badly that surgery was really her only option. She thinks the second injury probably would have been less severe if her ACL had been intact. Even a few years after the resulting surgery, she's not back to running and is not sure she will be—she still has some pain as well as a "psychological setback," she says. She misses running. The research I've been reading portrays a similar range of stories. Some people cope just fine after an injury like mine; others don't. The differences between these two groups have been studied extensively, looking for clues that might help more people recover. Copers, as we're called, have better balance, strength, and higher confidence in our ability to return to our desired levels of activity than noncopers. 2 Somewhere between 20 and 30 percent of us are natural copers—thanks to the specifics of our injury, our genetics, preexisting conditioning, luck, etc., we recover well enough to get back to our previous activities, even without surgical ACL reconstruction. But even noncopers can become copers. In a large study, about half of the noncopers who completed a 10-session strength and balance training regimen soon after their injuries became copers. They were able to resume their previous levels of activity without surgery. They also had better function two years later than those who didn't train. 3 One of the goals of ACL surgery is to help a noncoper become a coper by targeting joint laxity: The surgeon's aim is to make the joint tighter by replacing the torn ligament. And although surgery is very good at accomplishing this biomechanical goal, it only helps about two-thirds of people return to their previous level of activity. 4 internet, athletes who sustain it "can become really unhappy" in the long process (nine months or longer) of recovering from the surgical repairs. Wikipedia tells me that other names for this injury include the "horrible triangle," "the terrible triad," or crudely, a "blown knee." Just writing those out makes my knee hurt. But hold on a minute: What does it mean that, "blown" or not, my knee doesn't hurt anymore? It hurt a lot right after my skiing injury, and for a couple of weeks after, certain movements would make me nauseous with pain. But the pain improved quickly, my repertoire of nonpainful movements increased, and the more I had the courage to use my knee, the better it felt. My first tentative hike was less than three weeks after the accident, and at five weeks, I was walking brace-free. By six weeks, I was back to cautious running. And my knee did not feel unstable; uncertain was a better word, and that feeling was improving fast too. None of these activities made my knee hurt. Now that I've learned I have a "blown knee," I have to say that I feel even more hesitant when moving. You can't unsee your MRI, as they say. But I'll work with that. This isn't the first thought-virus I've caught in the process, and my mental immunity seems to be building. All that aside, do I need surgery or not? DAY 52—WAITING Now that an MRI shows I'm a candidate for surgery, I can schedule a consultation with a surgeon to discuss the options. The wheels of the medical machine turn slowly—the earliest available appointment is more than two months out. Meanwhile, I'm going to read up. DAY 79—COPING WITH ACL INJURIES I've been seeking out knee-injury stories. They range from inspiring to terrifying. • My brother-in-law Gordon ruptured his ACL many years ago and gets by fine without it. He even skis, using a brace for protection. • Nikki, one of the assistants at Advanced-Trainings. com, also ruptured her ACL, and even without surgery, still felt confident enough that she began training for a triathlon. But, on a long, uphill run,