Let it be known throughout the land that on this, the 342nd day in the year of our most gracious and holy donated Ligament, a heretofore impossible set of stairs was descended, for so it was that pride of triumph was shared among all who witnessed the conquest. And there was much rejoicing.
– My ACL Chronicles, 33:342
Yes, I went down stairs today. Not a lot of them, and not without pain, and not without just a bit of a stutter just prior to my left foot landing with each step, but I did go down stairs – one at a time, and without even touching the railing – for the first time in well over a year.
I am amazed. I am thrilled. I am relieved to the point of tears.
During my PT visit last Friday, Craig worked with me on the stairs for a bit and then developed a theory that the severe pain that remained and prevented me from putting pressure through my bent knee may be due to scar tissue that had developed on my patellar tendons. To test out this hunch, he delivered some very focused and aggressive therapy above and just below the kneecap with my leg slightly bent so as to bring the tendons closer to the surface.
This was the first time a non-electronic therapy tool was utilized directly on my knee – the “jacknobber”, an oversized plastic jack, with different sized spheres on the legs. Despite what has become a vastly increased tolerance for discomfort over the past year, the jacknobber repeatedly brought me to my limits. I then went to the weights and did multiple sets of isometric leg extensions – at 90 degrees, at about 45 degrees, and then at near full extension. It was somewhat painful, but the endorphins were already flowing from the jack treatment so in a strange way the isometric pain actually felt good.After a weekend of icing and rubbing and stretching my knee which was still significantly sore from Friday’s session, I came back to PT today, this time accompanied by my 8-year old daughter, and after the usual treatments and exercise I headed over to the stairs. The stairway goes down eight steps to a small landing and then from there turns down to the lobby. I approached the top step full of fabricated confidence in my ability to simply walk down, and to my ecstatic surprise – I did. After arriving at the landing I turned and went back to the top. “Did you see me? Did you see?”, I anxiously queried my daughter. “No, do it again.”, she said, careful not to commit any emotion in her response until she could figure out what I was talking about. Again I walked down the stairs and stopped at the landing. “Yea!” she yelled, innocently understating what I saw as the significance of the achievement. I walked back to the top of the stairs and hugged her. “Wanna see me do it again?”….
I realize that being able to walk down stairs is not a big deal, that is, until you can't anymore and then believe me it becomes a very big deal. My entire outlook and attitude has remarkably changed as a result of this simple event – an activity that I more or less mastered when I was three years old and have taken entirely for granted ever since. I’m sure that at three, I felt quite proud of finally being able to navigate the stairs. But certainly I never considered that one day I would once again view it as a major accomplishment in my life.
The corner of dramatic improvement that I have been looking to turn for so many months now - finally, it seems to have arrived.
And not a moment too soon.
