P-O-P!

Time has certainly escaped me.

The ground began to thaw and the earth began to wake. That means end of school year festivities, saying good bye to the year and preparing for the break before the next chapter. It certainly isn’t only the nature around us that stays so busy and livens her limbs- there are carnivals, dance recitals, gardens that need planting, grass that needs mowing, exploring that needs planning. May is becoming, the older I get, my most favorite time of the year. It’s filled with so much anticipation and sunshine.

It was a beautiful Friday. There was a hockey playoff game to be had that evening. I bounced into work giddily, after dropping off my kids, wearing one of my hockey jerseys and optimism. It was going to be a good night. My section was on the patio. Yes. Bring it. All of my tables were unoccupied because they were also they only ones in the shade… but that’s ok! Soon they would all equally share the growing shadow anyway. FINALLY, a new table! I. Was. Ready. Another server came over and chortled, “And look, they’re already pushing tables together, good luck with that one!” 😐 Ok… it’s fine, everything’s fine… I was armed with positivity and smile! It’s just my first table, right? Let’s get it out of the way.

Well, if that first table was any indication, I’m glad my toxic optimism clouded the warning. That first table, the one where four people, who already had drinks in their hands, had pushed two of my section tables together to create seating for ten people, sat in my section until nearly the very end of my shift, sipping on their water-downed drinks. I did convince them to give up the second table, but this was the theme of my shift for pretty much the whole night. Patio weather creates what I like to lovingly refer to as squatters. It’s really not as mean as it may sound. I myself, have also been found squatting in local watering holes, especially in the case of nice weather. I get it, who doesn’t want to enjoy a cold beverage leisurely on a patio? However, it can also make a $300 night, a $125 night for a waitress. Unfortunately, that Friday night, my frustration with the evening’s vibe most definitely caught up with me. I think my favorite part was my last table, where the gentleman when asked if he would like another, would ask “You’ll have to ask my wife if I can… OH WAIT SHE’S OUT OF TOWN!!” - after every, single, round. *Cue the head toss, finger point and laugh at his brilliant cleverness* I deserved an Oscar for my performance, truly.

I was quite eager to exit those doors at the end of the night. I was anxious to start all over the next day with higher hopes. It was Mother’s Day weekend and I had the perfect schedule. Friday night, open-close Saturday and home with my kids for Mother’s Day Sunday. Friday night could certainly be made up with my double on Saturday. Upon arriving home from work, my boyfriend and I went out on my back patio. I wanted to defuse the evening by briefly enjoying the warm night and spring air for myself, as all my patrons had, before bed. I climbed into my kid’s trampoline and before laying on it to star gaze, I took a moment to have a few jumps and convince my boyfriend to come join me.

“C’mon! BABY!” I taunted.

There was suddenly a startling, loud noise. My boyfriend, who was about 30 feet away on my deck still, believed it was his fault for a failed attempt to assemble the trampoline a few days before. He thought he might be in trouble. He hesitated in answering when I asked in surprise, “Did you hear that?!” By this time, all bouncing had ceased. The sound in fact,

was my knee.

It was the loudest, hollowest, fakest sounding “POP” anyone ever could have made. And it was my knee. I was on my way up from the karmic bounce where I was calling him a baby. It literally felt like my right knee entirely dislocated and bent 90 degrees to the right before snapping back into place like elastic. I laid on my back in the trampoline in total disbelief. There was no pain. Did that even happen?

I scooted myself to the edge and carefully got off the trampoline. She - my knee - felt a little sore, but I’ve had casual knee pain before and so I told myself it was actually nothing. My boyfriend and I had a laugh, I swallowed some ibuprofen, threw on a knee brace and we went to bed. Tomorrow was a new day I was already looking forward to.

Ohhhhhhhh, the next day was certainly a new day. A whole new life for awhile actually. Like alien leg syndrome, I had no control over what I wanted my leg to do. I kept telling my brain to stand on the leg, you can do it lightly, just stand… on… the… damn… LEG. But I just couldn’t. After the painful phone call to my boss to tell her I couldn’t come into work my double, everything happened very fast. Over the next 2 or 3 days I had 5 different appointments with different 4 different doctors, an x-ray and an MRI. It was a miracle I was able to see everyone so quickly. My MRI had proven that it wasn’t a bone bruise from a slipped patella like we had hoped. Instead, I had a partial tear of my meniscus and a total tear and loss of my ACL - worst case scenario. And they made the poor intern make the phone call with the news. The best salvage effort he had for our conversation through my insuppressible tears was “well, you know, this is why doctors like to keep stock in trampolines.” Never mind, I guess don’t deserve that Oscar afterall! 😋

I was simply in shock. Four days earlier I was living my best life, looking forward to Mother’s Day weekend, getting ready for our first camping trip in a couple weeks, and preparing for all those last school and dance events of the spring. I hadn’t even a good reason or story for my error! There was no party, no alcohol and dumb decisions, no trick jumps or flips or fumbled landings - heck there weren’t even kids in the dang thing with me! Just me. Jumping straight up. And now I was facing surgery. The same day I found out, I made a second opinion consultation with a different orthopedic clinic. I would be meeting with the Twin Cities Ortho (TCO) surgeon first, and then meet with another clinic a week and a half later to compare. That was the plan anyway. The TCO surgeon was amazing though and walked me through the MRI. The ACL was not showing up where it even should be, although it wasn’t required for ones leg to function, it was in my best interest, in the way I live my life, to have the surgery. He was patient, understanding and sympathetic to the fact that I was a very active, single parent, to three young kids who was a waitress to earn her living. The circumstances, he understood, could not be worse. I cancelled my second opinion appointment and surgery was scheduled for the next week.

Here we go, ready or not. Buckle Up.