Pop goes the ACL... the other one.

I've been so busy with wedding absurdity that I haven't posted on this blog in a year. Shame on me! I do have other non-wedding related things that should be documented. So here I am, back to report on a recent unfortunate event that I'd like to remember -- the sad life and death of my right anterior cruciate ligament.

Thirteen years ago, I was playing in a high school basketball game and was on a fast break when my foot stuck to the floor while the rest of my body's momentum pushed forward. Pop went my left ACL. I had surgery (patellar tendon graft) shortly afterward followed by a really tough recovery. My quad muscle went into atrophy and I couldn't move my leg for awhile. They are not memories I like to remember.

Fast forward to December 14, 2009. It was the beginning of a week-long snowboard trip in Steamboat Springs, Colorado. I was with 200 of my fellow Chicago Booth classmates and we had just gotten a dumping of snow. I woke up early, excited to hit the slopes.

(Sidenote: Anyone that knows me, knows that I have an obsession for snowboarding. Ever since I learned in 2002, I've been addicted. I dreamt about it and practically went every weekend. While the frequency of trips has waned, my love for snowboarding has not. I've conquered black diamonds and had been aiming to grow enough balls to conquer trees, deep powder and maybe a little jump or two.)

So I was up early, geared up and ready to go. Jeng and I left ahead of our housemates to be the first ones on the mountain. We got off the gondola and sat at the fork of two trails -- both blue squares (to warm ourselves up). He chose one and I headed down. I was less than a third of the way down the mountain, making a normal little carve on my heelside when I felt a familiar pop. Only this time it was my right knee.

"F***!", I thought as I sloppily came to a halt. I yelled not from pain but because I was PISSED. I knew exactly what I did and was furious at the timing. There goes my trip, the $1000+ I spent on it, and the rest of my holiday vacation.

Jeng stopped behind me, thinking I was just waiting for him. (He was being a slowpoke. Something about his board needing wax. I say he just couldn't keep up.) I told him my ACL was shot but I would try going heelside down the mountain. Haha. Bad idea... I didn't make it 3 feet. Ski Patrol escorted us to the base, then to the ER nearby. The whole time, I cursed my bad luck. If only I had taken the other blue square... if only I waited for the rest of my housemates... if only I had slowed down... if only I didn't have genetically defective ACLs.

I cut my Steamboat trip short and flew back to California on December 16. Two days later, I had my ACL replaced with a cadaver graft by one of the SF Niner docs at SOAR.

Now a month later, my recovery feels a lot better than it was 13 years ago. I know what to expect; I know that I need to push myself in Physical Therapy. But it still sucks. Especially in the snow and having to bum rides from my friends. It's frustrating, depressing and exhausting. My knee bends and straightens pretty far now, but only with a lot of effort and pain. It feels like a tight hinge that needs to be oiled. And when I stand, I can't trust whether my knee will hold me up or not. Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn't.

I keep getting asked -- when will you be off crutches? when will you not have to wear your brace? how much longer? Sh*t if I know. I do know that before long I will be walking again. And then slowly, running again. And eventually, snowboarding again. But the journey is tough and every motion makes me appreciate every limb, joint, bone and ligament in my body.

While my scars don't match (see gross pictures below), my ACLs are now intact and let's hope to keep it that way.