
Part 2: Why I needed surgery
Since this situation is a lifelong journey, I am breaking it up into many parts to make it easier to read. I hope you enjoy!
Before I tell you about my recovery and how I am feeling post surgery, I must tell you how this all started.
When I first started walking, I walked with my feet turned in. My dad used to walk behind me and straighten my feet out with his foot. It did work, I started walking with my feet fairly straight. Although, I still always ruined my shoes because once in a while, those feet wanted to touch.
When I started walking correctly, it seemed that was the end of my leg issues, until my day at the park. I don’t remember how old I was. I am guessing it was anywhere from 8-12 years old. I wanted to conquer my fear of the fireman pole. Well, that would be the last time I tried to conquer that fear.
I was there with a family friend. I grabbed the pole with both of my hands. I braced myself. I was ready. I swung my body forward and BANG! I didn’t catch the pole with my legs. Instead, I crashed into it with my groin. It was the most painful thing that probably ever happened to me. I was bruised for what felt like weeks. It’s hard to say when it was such a long time ago and my conception of time was all messed up. What feels like a week now, felt like a month when I was little.
The problems started after that incident. My mom took me to get a scan. I’m guessing it was an MRI. It showed some swelling in the area, but nothing major. The doctor recommended taking up swimming as a form of Physical Therapy. So, my mom signed me and my brother up for swimming. We both loved it, and without even realizing it, my leg was much better.
Still, I complained a lot about my leg. It was mostly when I wasn’t moving around a lot. I even remember asking my 4th grade teacher if I can stand up when everyone else was sitting because my hip hurt when I sat for too long. I never told my mom about that, but I’m lucky my teacher let me do it.
For the most part, I forgot about my leg pain throughout middle school. If it did hurt me, it must have not been so bad because it didn’t stick in my mind. In middle school, I was a cheerleader, so I stayed active, but it wasn’t enough to prepare me for High School.
In High School, our gym was basically a boot camp. The first day of gym, I came home crying and telling my mom that I want to switch schools. I wasn’t the first and I wasn’t the last. That was the experience for many people. It was a very tough gym class, but eventually I got really into it.
I started going to the gym on my own time, to be able to keep up with the exercises in school. I was going to the gym almost every day (twice on the days I had gym in school). I was in great shape, I was very strong, but slowly I started getting pain in my hip again. In addition to that, I had pain in my wrist, but that was more manageable. I did pushup on my fists instead of open palms.
To Be Continued…