What’s wrong with this picture? 

When I was 13, I wanted brand new skis for Christmas.  I discovered freestyle ballet the year before and wanted shorter skis.  My brother discovered moguls and wanted skis for that.  We both got new skis.  The day after Christmas the family went sledding.  We had steel runner sleds on a closed road.  There was an S curve in the road following the steepest hill. I made the first curve and hit a tree when I didn’t make the second turn.  The tree was actually a good thing since it kept me from going over a precipice into a creek.  I ended up with a fractured tibia, fibula, displaced kneecap, and spiral fracture of the femur.  The femur fracture resulted in the placement of 3 screws (with washers).  I never did use the new skis.  My brother became an alternate for the US Olympic Freestyle team going to Calgary when freestyle was an exhibition sport.

Fast forward 7 years, and I’ve got a lump in my knee that really hurts when it gets bumped.  Turns out one of the screws is working its way out of the bone.  I schedule surgery between Spring and Summer semesters.  They remove the screws but leave the washers. It’s supposed to be an outpatient surgery on Thursday.  Friday afternoon when I finally wake up in the hospital, the anesthesiologist tells me to warn future anesthesiologists that I’m a redhead.  As for recovery, Sunday after surgery I drove 45 minutes from Holladay to Provo so I could start classes on Monday.  I vaguely remember being on crutches for 3 weeks and I don’t remember any physical therapy.

So here we are many years later and one of the washers has broken loose and has moved to where it jammed my knee open at least twice.  Tomorrow I go in for surgery to remove all three washers (maybe) depending on how deep in the bone they are buried.

This leads me to some side behaviors that have come to light because of this event.  When I was given the choice of surgery dates I took the day before Thanksgiving since it was the least disruptive. However, this meant I was not going to be able to cook Thanksgiving dinner.  I asked my husband to cook Thanksgiving.  He’s a chef.  I was thinking something really cool would be on the menu, instead he started talking about open face turkey sandwiches and I unconsciously started wanting to do things my way.  Without thinking, I kept making remarks which showed I wanted control of dinner.  As many times as I preach delegation without micromanagement to my coaching clients, I was failing miserably.  I apologized to my husband and I have stepped back.

The other thing was a challenge I gave another coaching client.  She has so much going on and I challenged her to say yes to the next three people who offered her help.  My sister called tonight and asked if she could help me with anything post surgery.  My first inclination was to say no, but then I remembered the challenge I gave.  I accepted not only dinner but asked if she could find the water chestnuts that seem to be sold out at the stores around me.

It was fun to have what I share with others apply to me. I’m glad I recognized it though.

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3 Comments

  1. Goodness! I can’t imagine how painful it is to have a metal washer stuck inside your joint! Hope your surgery goes well!

    Reply
  2. My question here is how on earth did you get by so long with those washers when you wear your beautiful shoes all of the time? Maybe the shoes have kept the washers where they belong (therefore bless beautiful shoes!)?

    Reply

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