Period of Reconstruction

As all of you know, I recently tore my acl (1). It was almost two months ago now, September 28. I finally had reconstructive surgery yesterday morning. For those of you actually interested in the details, they replaced my acl with a third of a tendon in the front of my knee. This will be held in place for the rest of my life with two screws in my knee. The tendon that they used will grow back and repair itself. As I also had not one but two miniscus tears (2), my surgery was slightly more complicated. One of these miniscus tears was located in the portion of the miniscus that recieves some blood flow, so they were able to repair it. The other, however, was outside of the miniscul blood flow zone, and therefore they had to remove it.

The whole day went pretty smoothly, save for two incidents. First, it took my nurse three attempts to properly install my IV into the back of my hand (3). I guess I should say that IVs really freak me out. I can't stand looking at people that have one, and this is probably why I'll never give blood. However, I was doing surprisingly well with the situation... at first. After the first two attempts were failures, I started to get a little nervous. I felt sick to my stomach and got very warm. I thought that this was no big deal, and I wasn't going to say anything to the two nurses, I figured it would pass. And then one of them noticed that the "color of my lips match the [white] wall." The blanket was taken off of me, I laid down flat, they put a wet cloth on my forehead, and put oxygen tubes into my nose. After a few minutes I felt better, and they switched to my elbow for the third attempt, which was a success.

Second, after I got into the Operating Room, I began to feel a gradual, yet eventually intense, burning and itching sensation throughout my groin and crotch region. As nobody told me this was coming, I was all but convinced that something had gone terribly wrong. I wasn't sure, but my doctor probably put some poison through my IV, or the nurses must have stabbed me with something when I wasn't looking. As this sensation got very intense very quickly, I freaked out. I vividly remember sitting upward in a panic, looking at the nurses on either side of my bed (4), and yelling, "What the hell?! Why does my groin burn and itch? Is this supposed to happen?!" My blood pressure monitor began beeping very quickly. Of course, they told me that it was normal and it was just the anesthesia beginning to work. That was the last thing I remember (5).

As soon as I woke up, I felt pretty good and pretty normal, besides being slightly irritable. Upon leaving I was even able to eat lunch at a diner in Bergen and didn't feel sick at all. Other than the robotic-looking brace that covers my entire left leg, and the throbbing pain in my knee, I feel pretty damn good considering the circumstances.

Enough about the surgery itself, though. I honestly believe that everyone should go through something like this sooner or later. It was certainly a new experience and gave me a new perspective. I learned a few things.

1. You know that the people that either don't know that you're having surgery or don't remember it aren't really your friends, and they don't really care about you. The people that make sure they have a text message or voicemail waiting for you on your phone after the surgery... you can be sure that those people care about you.

2. Sometimes you need to be strong for other people. Even though I was the one being operated on, there were other people that were more worried about me than even I was. My dad, specifically, apparently has barely slept in the last two weeks. He took they day off of work yesterday because he couldn't stand being at work while I was being operated on. Even in the pre/post operation rooms, my dad looked more glum and worried than I did. He was a nervous wreck. For those of you that know my dad, you might think that this is somewhat uncharacteristic of him. But regardless, I put on a brave face and looked like I wasn't bothered by the upcoming surgery mainly for him. It's a good lesson to learn, that even in your own time of need, you can still be helpful to other people that need it.

3. You can't take everything you do for granted. Since the time I was an eighth grader playing soccer on JV, I dreamed of my senior year on Varsity. It was proclaimed to be the year that Leroy finally broke through and did something in the post season. It was highly anticipated, and highly prepared for. I worked with my coach to put in an off-season training program so that we'd be ready in the fall. I played in two leagues over the summer. I was basically pretty pumped and pretty excited for my last year of soccer. I had dreams about scoring the winning goal on senior night, locking up a home sectional game, and being named to the all-greater rochester all star team. Of course, as I had gone through my entire soccer career, 13 years, without a single real injury, I didn't even think that an injury in this final season would be possible. The only problem: My body didn't know or care about my high aspirations for this year. I literally played my last game of competitive soccer without even knowing it. Watching the second half of the season from the bench, I couldn't help but think how lucky the uninjured players on my team were. And game after game, loss after loss, I felt like lighting into them at half time and telling them to grow some balls, put a game face on, and put the ball in the net, because not everyone will ever have the chance anymore. But I guess you don't know how awesome of an opportunity you have until it's not there anymore.

4. Everyone should go through some kind of recovery period to gain a greater appreciation for the elderly and handicapped. My left leg is immobilized, and you'd be very surprised to know how much you're unable to do without one of your legs. I'm literally walking through my house for the next three months on the walker that my grandma used to use. When I leave the house, I'll be on crutches. I'm even going to have a handicapped parking sign in my car. I'll feel pretty useless and insignificant for the next three months, pretty much. But I suppose when I grow old and eventually someone has to take care of me everyday until I die, I'll look back on these three months with envy.


1. By all of you, I mean the three or so people that potentially read this.

2. I credit these tears to the one and only Trainer Rob, who, after I tore my acl told me that it was no big deal, and that I could continue playing in games. I tried that, twice. On both occasions I hurt my knee again before the opening whistle was even blown. Two pre-game accidents, two miniscus tears... Coincidence? No, Rob is just an idiot that doesn't know when someone has a torn ACL. He should probably be shot. Or at least fired.

3. Even though I apparently have "veins the size of Nebraska!"

4. One of these nurses happened to be my dad's cousin.

5. I'm just saying, a head's up would have been nice!