Once upon a time, a fair maiden went into the forest on cross country skis to enjoy the snow and sunshine with a friend. The weather was perfect, the snow was fluffy, and sparkled like diamond powder covering the trees and earth. A blanket of beauty for the hibernating world. One felt that magic was just around the corner, the pixies and gnomes were scuttling about, enjoying the sunshine and watching the skiers.

We explored the forest, twisting and turning around nooks and crannies. After about an hour I could feel the fatigue start to set in, it was the first ski of the season and my legs, although muscled, were not used to skiing. I fell going around a corner, a sure sign I was tiring. We started to head back to the car. My friend suggested a shortcut, a smaller, uncleared path. The forest gnomes were feeling frisky, and the fates were not on my side. We came to a steep dip that my friend navigated with no issue. However as I stood perched on the precipice, I had a moment of dread, possibly of foreboding. I squashed this as lack of faith in myself, squared my skis, and tipped over the edge. Down I went, my left ski twisted, then they both twisted, I felt a pop in both knees, and I was laying the snow, gasping in pain. My friend sat next to me and talked me through it. Her husband (who had their baby in a front carrier this whole time) patiently waited for us to stand back up. I walked back to the car, and my knees felt wierd. Unstable. Swollen. I couldn’t wait to get home and ice them and take some ibuprofen.

Alas, it was not to be. The parking lot was very icy. I was still wearing my ski boots. I opened my car door, and turned to say farewell to my friend, and I went DOWN. It happened in a split second. I was standing, my knee twisted, and I was on the ground. Pain like I have only felt in labor was in my knee. I felt with my hands around my knee and felt a huge lump along the outside of my knee. “What the hell is that?” I thought to myself. “That is not supposed to be there!” my patella had displaced laterally. I tried to move my knee, and the pain somehow got worse. I was panting, crying, trying not to vomit with pain. Without thinking about what I was doing, I moved my knee and pushed my kneecap back into place, which immediately helped with some of the pain. I caught my breath, Anna and her husband helped me into the car, and they drove me to urgent care. I called Sean who then met us there.

At urgent care, they informed us that they cannot “put anything back into place.” Meaning if anything was fractured or still dislocated, they couldn’t fix it. If we thought something was broken we should go to the ER. I used to work in our local ER, so away we went. My friend took our children, and Sean had to get a wheelchair to get me out of the car. My hands shook as I signed the consent. I was cold and sweating, and inn a lot of pain. They brought me back quickly, and put me in an actual room, which made me think someone recognized me. My nurse was an old co-worker, and she was perfect, with ice packs for my knees and heated blankets for the rest of me. The PA who saw me used to work in Ortho, and she was great. Got my x-rays, felt the laxity in my knee, and said nothing was broken, but she was pretty sure my MCL was torn. Knee immobilizer, crutches, and follow up with Ortho, call on Monday. The pain had dulled, and my right knee could bear weight, so I was able to hobble into the house, although the three stairs in from my garage seemed to present an insurmountable feat at the time. When I accidentally put weight on my left leg, I could feel the joint wobble and slide sickeningly. I’m still not clear exactly how I made it in, but somehow my amazing husband got me through the door, and set me up with pain pills, supper, and ice packs in bed.

I wish I could say that was the end. I was exhausted and felt like I could sleep for days. Except I couldn’t sleep. Every time I started to doze off, I was on top of that hill, about to ski down. Or I was getting into my car, and I could feel the tendons rip in my knee as it gave out. I now understood a tiny tiny taste of what PTSD sufferers must feel every day. I kept reliving the events, and I couldn’t even toss and turn, bc I couldn’t change positions with my damn knee! It was a rough night, to put it lightly, but after every night comes the dawn, and as with any intimidating feat, I conquered it and met the new day.