Good-bye to an Old Friend

Ding dong, the CPM is dead! Or to tweak Al Pacino’s famous quote from Scarface, “Say good-bye to my little friend!” Real quick: have you ever seen an athlete’s or rapper’s house on MTV’s Cribz without a Scarface poster? Yeah, me neither.

Over the past 8 weeks, I spent more time with this machine than with my wife or kids. 6-8 hours/day. Brutal. I didn’t want to return the CPM; I wanted to blow it up. Anyway, I no longer needed the CPM once my knee reached a certain flexion. Here's a picture of my leg in the CPM.

My quest for normalcy continues to creep along. With Christina’s blessing, I graduated from Driver’s Ed and got my license last week. I’m back on the roads with no restrictions. So far, I haven’t run over any cats like my friend, Lori, did. I also started taking showers standing up. I’m much cleaner now. I kinda miss my shower seat, however. There’s something comforting about sitting down in the shower. Try it some time. I guess I’ve got something to look forward to when I hit 90.

I’m still wearing the knee brace. I meet again with my surgeon in 2 weeks. Hopefully it’ll come off. But as I’ve learned the hard way already, I’m not counting on it. I think my knee’s ready to handle it; I’m just waiting on the osteotomy to fully heal. Frankly, that’s a bit frustrating because I’ve got no control over how the bone heals. You can’t rehab a bone wedge.

Random Update -- 7-Weeks

Lately, nothing earth-shattering has happened. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t made any progress. I’m still piling up accomplishments; they’re just of the baby-step variety. For example, I’ve continued to increase my knee flexion (I hit 110+ degrees last week); I’m walking without crutches around the house; I’ve returned to work 2x/week; I regularly go out for dinner and attend my son’s sports functions without a second thought; and I’m even getting ready to drive again.

My return to the roads will be a bit like having a driver’s permit. I first have to convince Christina that I’m capable of driving; she’s like the Driver’s Ed teacher. She wants to see me drive around the neighborhood a few times before permitting me to drive on my own. She even wants to install a brake on the passenger side of the car. Insert your own manhood joke here. Anyway, once I get the green light, the next step will be to slowly increase the distance I drive. I’ll start with trips to the gym so I can ride the exercise bike, and perhaps pool walk, on my own schedule. Assuming I don’t wreck, I’ll eventually start driving around town, before hopping on the highway, and eventually driving myself to the office.

I didn’t exactly “enjoy” returning to work two weeks ago, though the change of scenery was nice. And I did miss the regular interaction with my co-workers, even if most of them are boring lawyers. Shocking, I know. (To my colleagues reading this blog, I’m just kidding. I love each of you.) The toughest part about heading back to work was waking up an hour earlier than usual, and showering in the morning again. Because I still needed Christina’s help, she also had to wake up an hour earlier. Talk about crank-eeee.

I’m pretty sure my outfit violated the office dress code. My brace doesn’t fit underneath normal pants, so I’m forced to wear warm-up track pants, with button-up snaps on the sides. I also wore my tennis shoes for comfort and stability reasons. A solid-colored sweater completed my ensemble. It was definitely a sweet look for a government worker.

Big announcement – On Monday, I plan on posting a lengthy "feature article" about my recovery, something worthy of The New Yorker. At least I think so.