Sunday, August 29, 2010

Hope

Your knees will never get better.

I remember the moment the orthopedic doctor said that. It was after I had dropped into a squat from a standing position, as if I were sitting in an invisible chair, and both of my knees produced the loud, wet, crunching noise of significant cartilage damage. It was after I had told him, with passionate earnestness, that I was prepared to do anything to get better -- anything.

And he told me, flat out, that there wasn't anything I could do.

I know what he was probably doing. This was my second visit to him, separated by many months, and there I was, complaining of the same knee pain as before. I had seen a physical therapist for months, to no avail. I had tried glucosamine sulfate; it didn't work. I had tried, it seems, everything I could -- but nothing helped. My knees still hurt much of the time.

Faced with this set of facts, he probably put on what he thought was his truthteller hat. He probably saw me as not so much determined, but rather stubborn and deluded. When I dropped into that squatting position, and he heard the awful noise my joints made, he didn't say anything. But he was probably thinking: Those knees are beyond saving. They won't get better.

So he said as much.

I can remember how depressing that felt, to be told there was no hope. Luckily, I didn't accept his verdict. I decided to wage this fight on my own, and after a couple of years, I emerged the winner, with a pair of knees that now feel as normal as before.

But being robbed of hope, even if only briefly ... that's something I'll never forget. I realize there is a time for a good medical doctor to disabuse a patient of his or her unrealistic expectations. But having bad knees isn't like having a body overrun with terminal cancer. Bad knees can be coaxed back to good health.

Hope is powerful medicine. I won't say that hope healed me. I had a program of action, and I cleaved to it as if my life depended on it (and maybe it did). But having hope, the promise that next month would be better, and the month after that better still -- that was what sustained me through some gloomy times.

A real, lasting recovery is not fast. It is slow, slow, slow. But on that long journey, you'll need your hope, shining bright, to help you see the way.

2 comments:

  1. I'm guessing you inspire more than you know.

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  2. Thank you, Richard, for sharing your story. I started having knee pain when I was 25, during a phase where I was lifting weights and getting into the best shape of my life. I tried knee braces, shoe inserts, and working on my form with a trainer but the pain continued. Over the last seven years I've seen five doctors, four physical therapists-one who literally told me to push through the grating pain I felt while cycling, cortisone shots, hyaluronic acid injections, and two years of taping my patella into "proper alignment". I wish I had read your book before undergoing an arthroscopy on my left knee-now I am struggling to regain muscle on that leg while simultaneously dealing with the knee pain. My last doctor repeated the same rote phrases: strengthen the quads, your cartilage will never heal. Thank you for bringing to light all those studies that contradict those tired mantras. I only started my new program August 29th so I feel it's too early to see any sort of improvement, especially since I've been struggling for the last seven year. Anyway, your book gave me a different direction to try as well as hope, which I had lost, so thank you.

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