Nothing kickstarts a Monday morning like a doctor’s appointment in which your doctor informs you that your hamstring and quadriceps’ strength are not, in fact, on par with Hines Ward and other professional athletes without ACL that you’ve learned about on the internets. The doctor quite matter-of-factly informed me that my knee has not “magically healed” (throwing back my words at me!) and that I will still have to undergo reconstructive surgery if I ever want to do anything moderately active ever again.
Turns out that I have a choice of getting some ligament/tendon particles from other parts of my leg OR I can opt to have a graft from some ligament/tendon part of a cadaver. The latter makes the surgery time half as long, and I watched the movie Blink recently, which adds a sense of danger and allure to this transplant of knee ligament option. Also, apparently my soccer injury hurt some other ligament/tendon, so the areas of my own leg from which they can graft are limited, thus again pointing in favor of the medical procedure I have dubbed “the dead knee job.”
I assume that I have some screening and choosing rights over the donor of this cadaver graft, and I have therefore decided that I will settle for no less than the ACL of an Olympic Athlete. An extremely morbid google search gives several options, which I will forward to my orthopedic surgeon’s physician’s assistant as an addition to my increasingly bizarre medical file correspondence.
In other news, for reasons still insufficiently explained to me, my bedfellow sent me this link yesterday.