6-Month MRI Results

Relief. Well, partial relief anyway. (More on that in a second.) My visit with Dr. T was punctuated by several high-fives, each as awkward as the ones between Tiger Woods and his caddie after a heroic birdie putt. Even though I didn’t hoist the Claret Jug during this appointment, I nonetheless received some good news.

The 6-month MRI showed that my graft is healing “beautifully,” to use Dr. T’s choice of words. The graft is completely filled in. First high-five. No overgrowth, fissures, cracks, or other deformities. Second high-five. Most importantly, the cloned cartilage appears to be bonding smoothly with the existing cartilage. Final high-five.

Unfortunately, we didn’t have an MRI report to review, so I’m hesitant to suggest that everything inside my bionic knee is “beautiful.” The MRI technician thought he was supposed to examine a potential “ACL” surgery, not ACI. He said my ACL looked great. Um, thanks? Since I’ve never torn my ACL, I guess that’s a good thing for the technician’s career prospects. I told Dr. T he should take credit for making my ACL look as good as new. Anyway, I’m supposed to get the correct report sometime this week. Hopefully Dr. T didn’t miss anything during his independent review of the films.

Dr. T was downright giddy, perhaps even happier than I was. He even called me his “poster child” for the ACI surgery. While I’m pretty stoked to learn that my knee’s healing as well as can be expected, I still worry whether my knee will ever become “normal” again. Plus, I’m hesitant to rejoice until I see the complete report. Now, I don’t want to be a wet blanket, ruining the good news like Gretchen Mol in Rounders. But the MRI doesn’t explain the random aches or clicking in my knee, nor does it answer why I’m still having difficulty bending/squatting on 1-leg. Hopefully, those issues are just part of the natural healing progression, as Dr. T seemed to think. In fact, after the final high-five Dr. T tempered his own enthusiasm, noting that ACI recovery isn’t a 10-K race, but a marathon. Well, if that’s true, hopefully I just passed the 13-mile marker ahead of a bunch of Kenyans, fully hydrated and without any cramps.

(Ok. If this was a newspaper column or magazine piece, this blog posting would’ve ended with that previous sentence’s beautiful wrap-up. Fitting and humorous. But screw my editor’s advice; I’ve still got a few more things to share).

6 months is probably a good time to mark my progress. Here’s what I can do:

• Walk for miles (and chew bubble-gum at the same time). On the treadmill, I’m now up to
3.5mph and can handle an incline of 6-8 with no problem. I can also shuffle sideways and walk backwards without tripping over my feet.

• Stationary bike at fairly high resistance. I’m getting a “real” bike sometime this month. I haven’t owned a bike since the early 1980s when I traded in my 300lb NY Giants dirt bike with the banana seat for a discounted, blue Sears 10-speed (my dad used to work at Sears).

• Moonwalk across the kitchen floor in my parachute pants

• Elliptical machine for 25-30 minutes at a fairly tame pace and incline

• Gently kick a soccer ball with my kids

Here’s what still gives me problems:

• 1-legged squats/bends beyond 45-60 degrees; 2 legged squats and wall sits are ok because I “cheat” a bit by placing more pressure on my good wheel

• Kneeling; crawling; kneeing evil-doers in the head with any amount of force

Here’s what I can’t do/haven’t even tried:

• Running

• Jumping

• Eat 68 Nathan’s hot dogs in 10 minutes (or even in 10 months)

6 months down; 6-12 more to go, I guess. I now embark on that vague recovery stage. I really don’t have any more major milestones or markers to pass, though 8 months (32 weeks) might be considered one. Everything’s now incremental advancements based on subjective feeling. I’ll continue to slowly increase the amount of weight or reps on various quad-building exercises. Once I gain sufficient strength – though I’m not sure what’s considered, “sufficient” – I’ll progress to rollerblading -- one of the pitstops between walking and running. I’ll probably piss in my pants the first time I do. Actually, Christina will probably be more nervous; maybe she’ll pee enough for both of us. After that, it’s just a matter of time (and Dr. T’s blessing) before I try more aggressive activities, like light jogging. That’s still at least 6 months away, but then again, I can’t believe it’s been six months since the surgery.