The Classic "Pop"

In a matter of seconds, everything had changed. Little did I know that that soccer game would be the last I’d suit up for for a while.

The classic “pop” was all too real. In the midst of my body being slapped down to the hard turf, I already knew something was off. My left knee was flung into the air like spaghetti and sandwiched between two people. With little control over redirecting it, there was nothing more I could do than just wait for the damage to hit. When my left side made contact with the ground, my knee still clamped inwards, there was a screaming loud “crack, then “pop” that rung through my ears. The pain was immediate and throbbing. My toes went numb and shock started to set in. Laying loosely on the ground before the medic, coach, family, and friends rushed to me felt like an eternity. Soon enough, I was on a cushioned table being examined by the sports medicine trainer. The swelling set in instantly, making my knee incredibly stiff and that much more painful. Upon trying to twist my leg in this and that direction (but having no luck) and poking at me here and there asking for my level of pain, she said the two words no athlete ever wants to hear: “ACL tear”.

It was then that I realized my game and love for physical activity would have to wait for longer than just a few days. 

Since the incident nearly two weeks ago, I have been in and out of the doctor’s office seven times. I was quickly scheduled for a MRI (magnetic resonance imaging) and in only a day’s time of speculating and waiting for answers, reality struck.

The official news was devastating:

“Severe sub-periosteal hematoma in knee region. Complete tear of the anterior cruciate ligament. Minor tibial shaft fracture. Potential tear of the lateral collateral ligament.”

The above translates out of medical terminology to:

Severe bone bruising in the knee area. Complete tear of the ACL. Minor facture of the tibia. Potential LCL tear (which can only be confirmed during surgery). The MRI image shown to the right is taken from a lateral perspective and is one of many that displays the damage done to my knee. Notice that the bright white blobs towards the top left of the image indicate enormous amounts of tissue perfusions, or fluid build up. Such contributes to the area feeling extremely stiff and obviously swollen. The section circled in red is where one should see my ACL as a clearly defined, black/gray strip crossing the space diagonally. In my case, what remains is only light colored mush from severing it completely...

Needless to say, surgery is inevitable. And I have to admit, I’m quite excited. Having only be a part of the process from the physicians and family’s perspective, I think actually being the one on the operating table will be incredibly enlightening. What better way to learn the ropes through and through than experience them first hand? Luckily for me, arthroscopic surgery- meaning a minimally invasive surgical procedure on a joint using an arthroscope and endoscope inserted through a series of small incision- is used rather than open surgery for an ACL tear. After cleaning the area by scraping away the fragments of my now lost ACL, my surgeon, whom I met just the other day, will use one of my hamstring tendons as a graft to replace the destroyed ACL. Two screws, that will be integrated into the rest of my soft tissue over time, will be tunneled into my knee in order to keep the mock ACL in place. November 22^nd, 2017 will be a day for the books.

Ironically, inserting the intravenous line (IV) into my arm prior to the operation is the only aspect of the entire procedure that makes my stomach turn a bit. Again, ironic for an aspiring physician.

Anyhow, my black knee brace- which covers half my leg- will be my acquaintance for roughly a year. And just like that, everything had changed.