After The Fall, I was seriously laid up. The next day, everything hurt, just like a car wreck. I’m a nurse practitioner and work has been crazy because it’s the end of the year and we’re in a global pandemic. I was able to change my schedule to telehealth and keep working, in bed with my legs propped up, still seeing patients, but by the end of the day I was exhausted, in pain, and not functioning at my best. At lunch I wormed my way onto a co-worker’s schedule, and he very nicely saw me over our lunch break, and ordered an MRI and an Ortho referral.

But mid afternoon the insurance had approved the mri, and I had an appointment the next week with Ortho. I was very happy with this, because sometimes if the urgency isn’t stressed, people can wait weeks or months for a specialist appointment, not to mention one out of town, and in the middle of a pandemic. I called for an MRI appointment, and the woman on the other line said, “are you the nurse practitioner?”. Normally I hate throwing around the meager clout I had, but my knee hurt like hell and it was the size of a volleyball. If there was ever a time to take advantage of my job, this was it. “Why yes, I am!” I exclaimed. She was very sweet,”oh I see your name all the time, let me see what we have, I’m sure we can fit you in somewhere, is there a time that is better for you?”. I assured her that I would make anything work, and she scheduled me for Saturday, with a promise to call me if a cancellation came up. Even this I was thrilled with, because in a tiny town with the only MRI machine for 30 miles in any direction, getting an appointment within a week is great.

Two hours later she called me to say they had a cancellation and could I be there Wednesday morning at 9. I said I’d take it. I arranged to take the morning off, a friend offered to drive me, it was like everything was coming together. Except my knee ligaments of course.

Wednesday morning the panic set it. I’m not generally sick. I’ve never had an MRI. I’ve only ever broken one bone, in my 39 years. I don’t even know what a torn ligament feels like. It hurts when I move, but if I hold still it doesn’t hurt that bad, is that right? What if I just had a bad sprain and I’m making a big deal about nothing? What if I made my office manager rearrange my schedule, made my husband wait on me, strong-armed my way into a fast MRI, and everything was normal? What if Ortho thought this MRI quality was crap and couldn’t read it? What if I couldn’t handle the MRI process? I didn’t know much about them, but I knew you had to hold still, you couldn’t wear any metal, it took a long time, it was loud, and people get claustrophobic. I was panicking. Also I hadn’t been out of the house since my injury, so I was worried about the ice and my crutches. But I got in fine, the MRI took forever, but I just laid there, and they gave me ear protection. It sounded like a mild jackhammer, and I swear I felt the pressure of the magnet scanning my knee. There were warnings all over, “the magnet force is always on!”. And “tell your technician immediately about any implant or piercings!” The signs made me feel guilty just by their severity, as if accusing me of forgetting my earrings or piercings and then having the metal ripped from my body. Nonetheless, I survived unscathed. Then there was the waiting.

I saw patients all afternoon, repeatedly checking for my results. At 3 I gave up waiting and had a nurse call. Preliminary results were scanned in shortly after, and I was floored. It wasn’t just my MCL. it was my MCL, my ACL, my meniscus, all full tears. My fibular head was fractured, and the tibia had a chip off of it. I was worried about nothing being wrong, and here everything was wrong. I couldn’t focus. My mind was reeling. I’ve never had surgery. I’m scared of anesthesia and intubation and catheters, let alone the thought that I might never run again, I might never triathlon again, that all the weight i lost over the past few months might pile back on with my forced inactivity. There’s no positive spin on the end of this one.

I’m scared. I’m hoping the orthopedist will help allay some of my anxieties, but I’ve found specialists are never as helpful and definitive as I want them to be. My kids don’t understand long term illness. I’ve always been the caretaker, I’m not used to ‘not doing.’ it’s where I gain my sense of worth. There’s the fear that people won’t like me if I don’t add value to their lives. If I think too long on it, the fear takes over. Right now it’s all I can do to rein it in.