The Knee Saga Pt2

Well, inquiring minds want to know: How are you? How's the knee? How are you feel-ling? So, I thought I would write a little note about the knee so far.

To sum it up with yet another quote that never meant much to me before: "Slowly but surely." This whole process is much slower than I anticipated but so far I haven't really stopped improving. I think my leg is finally done shrinking. I am happy that it didn't seem to get that skinny- though it is skinnier than I would like it.

For the last few months, Jed and I have been renting a cute little place in June Lake where much of Jeds guiding work was being done and where I was teaching skiing. That was a great place to recover since there wasn't the commotion of the Zoo (what we call our place in Bishop) and because of its proximity to the awesome Double Eagle Report and Spa. Many of my weekends following the surgery were spend in avalanche courses with Jed (the classroom portion) and in the gym. Typically I would spend 4 or 5 hours Friday through Saturday working out there and doing my PT. At first I would bike with all my might with one leg to get a cardio workout in, then I would do weights and different crossfit exercises and then head to the yoga room for an hour or so of PT. The DE had everything I could ever want for recovery and fitness (except maybe a better rowing machine). Plus they have towels, razors, and brushes to use! So deluxe.

Our lease ended in June and we are officially Bishop residents again. I am still working in the Sierra Mountain Guides office three days a week and pretty much all I do otherwise is Crossfit and Physical Therapy. Yesterday I did two Crossfit workouts as well as my 2 hour PT and my plan is to continue to ramp up my fitness and training. My goal is to come out of this experience fitter and stronger than ever. It used to be that I didn't want to work out too hard since it would potentially interfere with my climbing or skiing. But now days I really have no excuse for not being sore. I wear my soreness with pride since it was several weeks before my body could even handle a workout intense enough to make me sore.

People are surprised to see me out and about. For the record, I am crutchless, braceless (except for at Crossfit) and walk kinda normally. Ok, I don't walk that well yet, I am working on getting rid of a limp that is caused by tightness as opposed to pain. Apparently my ACL was put in tighter than my other one, so a lot of my PT has to do with stretching it out which is a strange feeling at best.

I have 4 new unnatural looking scars that I thought I would like but am not so sure about now. I've been told that they will fade and not be so obvious at some point.

What else?
Have I told you a time line yet? 6 months (end of July) for climbing, opening day for skiing.

Oh yeah- this is kinda cool: the new ligament that they put in my knee is dying right now. Apparently they freeze it in a way that your body doesn't recognize it as a foreign protein. This means that your body won't reject it and it also means that your body doesn't feed it nutrients and stuff. So, as any living thing would, it dies. Then my body is like, oh wait! We can use that thing! So it uses stem cells and some other magic stuff to bring it back to life again. This is why it is so physically weak for 6 months after they put it in. Because it is in the process of dying and coming back to life just like Jesus!
Amazing.
I guess that's all there is to report! Peace!

The Knee Saga

For those of you who may not know. I (Annie) took a fall skiing on the 2nd of January while training with June Mountain Ski School (where I was working). The rule at ski school is if you take a fall while training and especially if you 'yard sale' then you owe your co-workers a six pack. In my case, I think I may owe them a keg or two. Here's my story:

The Fall:
The way ski school works is that every morning you show up. If there is work available, you take it, and if there isn't, you get to train with the best. Inexplicably, on an embarrassingly easy run, while practicing a new drill, my edges caught and I went for it. I tumbled for long enough that I had time to think several things before coming to a stop: Am I ever going to stop falling? Why the fuck haven't my skis come off? This second thought, I believe, is the biggest factor in this saga. So, when I finally came to a stop my left ski was buried to my heel in the icy groomed slope. The front of my right ski had come to a stop behind the left ski, twisting my knee to the left. A co-worker had to pull my ski out of the snow. I tried skiing down since my knee didn't hurt too bad but every time I weighted it my femer would feel like it was slipping past my tib-fib. The last thing I wanted was to get a ride out of there since my boss (an owner of Sierra Mountain Guides) is also a ski patroller. But my co-worker Bob convinced me that it was the only way to go. Then the ski patrollers called Neil (my boss) and he convinced me that going the whole nine yards (splint, toboggan ride down, emergency room) was the only smart thing to do given workmans comp and what not. So there I was, sliding behind a snowmobile, leg immobilized, tied in, thinking I would be terrified of such a thing. Instead, I was oddly calm and loved the bit of spray that hit my face as I marvelled at the whispy clouds in an otherwise completely blue sky.

The ER:
The payroll girl from work was asked to drive me to the hospital since Jed was working and I couldn't get a hold of any friends. She is a no nonsense kind of girl that might not have cried since she was 7 or so. I , on the other hand, could not stop crying for the life of me. Everytime I saw or talked to someone I knew I would just lose it thinking that I had disapointed them. The ER doctor pulled on my leg and said I probably had a torn ACL. The x-ray didn't show anything and I wasn't in any pain. Right before I left I started noticing a little sensitivity in my tailbone but didn't think much of it.

Pro-Op:
Long story short since this is getting pretty long already. Saw the Doc (Dr. Karch), got an MRI. Both said that I had a blown out ACL (the MRI guy said very monotone when I asked how it looked: "I'm surprised your not in more pain") and probably a torn LCL as well as a broken tailbone. A few days after the results I slipped on the ice out front of my house in June Lake and my knee collapsed inward. My virtually pain free injury turned into a frusterating painful injury for several days which resulted in the first experience with injury related depression and a foul mood that my poor Bishop roomates and friends had to put up with. But soon it faded and I got back to exercising and feeling better as my range of motion increased again.

The Operation:
The battle plan was this: fix the ACL arthoscopically and deal with whatever miniscus tearage that might have happened in my secondary fall. When the ACL was fixed he would pull on my leg and then fix the LCL in a second surgery if it still felt loose. I received a cadavers ligament that was bolted and screwed and hammered in, doubled over, as my new ACL. An inconsequential amount of miniscus was repaired and there was no LCL damage. So this was probably the best case scenario. Plus, now I have a mans knee. Karch said he was probably a motorcycle rider. Once its healed, my new knee should be stronger than my old one.

Anesthesia:
I opted for a spinal tap for the operation since I learned that general anesthesia requires a machine to breathe for you and that just sounded wrong to me. So, my legs were supposed to be dead and I was supposed to be a awake. I dozed on and off but then it was discovered that I wasn't a very good patient when I woke up and realized I was having surgery and I wanted to see. So, according the the anesthesiologist, I was "ripping down the curtain wanting the see, and my other arm was hanging over the table," so he said "I just knocked you out after that." My doctor was kind enough to allow one of the nurses to take photos with my camera. I don't recall a single one being taken despite my smiles and thumbs up and torn open knee.

Best parts of the whole experience:
Workers Comp. Feeling like a real skier now because every skier tears up their knee at some point. Getting to have mom come and take care of me. The time to do crafts and write and be creative in general. The opportunity to at some point go visit family and friends. That I didn't do more damage.

Worst parts:
Missing out on powder skiing. Inevitably making Jed miss out of skiing and climbing. The numb HooHoo after my spinal tap that didn't allow me to pee unassisted (coughcathetercough). Missing one and maybe two AMGA courses.

The Future:
If I had to sum it up in one word? Cycling. Basically I am only allowed to do in-line sports (biking, rowing, um....biking) for 6 months. For all of my climbing partners reading this: From the 4-16 weeks mark I will be feeling the best but my knee will be at its absolute weakest. This is when all of you are going to tempt me to go out climbing or whatever- but I must resist if I am going to want a totally healthy knee in the future!! If anyone out there wants to go riding though- give me a call and I will love you forever.

Today:
I have come across many quotes since I've been hurt that never meant anything to me before. They now have significant meaning: ...'No one said it was going to be easy'... 'Adding insult to injury' ...'It is what it is and it ain't what it ain't'... 'One day at a time'.
Currently? I am in pain. I have found that if I take the heaviest dudiest meds my leg doesn't hurt but I barf everywhere. So now I am trying lighter duty stuff so I don't get nauseous just looking at a computer or talking on the phone but then my knee hurts more. Mom is here taking care of me, doing all the things I ask and even the ones I don't. I thought I would be doing crunches and legs lifts to stay in shape but its all I can do to move my leg to adjust or get up to go to the bathroom. I have been so happy and excited when I get calls and e-mails and texts- those are definitely the highlight of my day (no pressure -haha!). I think today my leg is less swollen than yesterday and I hope that the trend continues.

Ski Season Opener!

I do it every year. I think that I'm going crazy, starting around Halloween. Work is slow and any sort of routine and fitness from the summer seems long gone. Everything seems more dramatic and days drag on. And then it snows and we can ski. Life is good again. Skiing is so great, no part of me is capable of remembering how good it feels. Not in my wildest November imaginings can I conceive of how great skiing itself, the skiing lifestyle and the skiing routine. I'll read this again next year, despairing in the 'tweener season and think "it doesn't really matter that much, does it?" It does! But, alas, my feeble mind can't even comprehend how great skiing and the ski season is for me. And it has begun and I am happy.


Not only has it begun, but it's been quite the auspicious start! I skied one day in November, icy, limited runs available at Mammoth. But it was white and slippery. Annie and I had a few days of skiing at Mammoth separately in early December. This past Sunday, the 13th, we skied together at Mammoth in the morning, then launched into the Lakes Basin for our first backcountry tour. Tons of deep new snow slowed us down, both up and down. But it was great. I drove up with Paul on the 15th to ski some in the ski area and some out. Today I skied alone up Bishop Creek, 3000 vertical feet of thinly covered sage and talus. Great views though.

Crazy night of Meteors!

Tony Rowell makes the earth standstill for Nasa! Past proof is here, and here, and here (well kinda). Those linked pictures are each a past NASA "Astronomy Picture of the Day". And Galen Rowell's son is obsessed with photographing the night sky.

Galen Rowell is famous for super pretty pictures from all over the world and climbing most of the mountains he photographed. Galen passed away in 2002, and now Tony helps run the Rowell gallery here in Bishop as well as takes as many pictures of the night sky as he can. Sometime in the 1970's Galen photographed a bristlecone pine, at night. The result (I'd pirate a picture off the web, but since I'm writing about professional photographers, you can see some good modern examples when you google "bristlecone and star trails.") was what Tony calls one of the first "Astrolandscapes"- night sky, plus terrestrial something-or-other. And Tony is taking it to a whole 'nuther level! Technology and techniques, and just the shear number of folks out taking pictures have taken all genres of photography to crazy heights, literally and figuratively.

Tony came into our lives here at the Zoo when he tracked down Paul at the radio-telescope observatory where he works. Paul and his co-workers basically listen for aliens via these satellite dish-looking things. Creepy, huge and technological, artists of all kinds find inspiration at observatories like this. This past summer Tony Rowell acquired a new toy- a machine that actually turns his camera counter to the earth's rotation, effectively freezing the earth (or the sky, depending on your perspective) and eliminating those "star trails" you googled just above. To put it simply, the night sky is dark and capturing anything with a camera requires long exposures. Long exposures let in lots of light, but the sky changes during those long seconds or even minutes. It's just art, so some embrace the changes- again, see the star trails. That's the result of the earth spinning under the stars. The most notable other change that occurs during long exposures of the night sky is meteors. More on that later. Anyway, some engineer/astronomer/photographer set up this machine that cancels out the rotation of the earth. Tony got a machine and added his own twist, pun intended. He purposely frames his pictures with something in the foreground, sets up a long exposure then flashes the foreground briefly- creating his own astrolandscapes. He tracked down Paul in order to secure permission and logistical support for a shoot like this at the observatory here. The goal was to get a picture worthy of NASA APOD. He didn't score the picture of the day that time around, but he did tap into a pool of dirtbags willing to do anything for fame-and-fortune. Or even small-fortune-and-brushes-with-a-famous-family.

Fast forward to mid-December and what Tony calls a super-rare opportunity: The Geminid Meteor shower is forecast to "go big." No moon. Weather forecast calls for clear skies. Fresh snow on mid-elevation Eastern Sierra trees. And Tony's got his own vision to bring it all together. I won't blow his idea just yet, because even though only, like, three people read this blog, this stuff is important to Tony. We'll wait for the pictures to process and maybe even get published. Anyway, it's just hours before the forecast peak, about 8pm on Sunday December 13. Tony's got a heap of lights and cameras and tripods and earth-stopping machines. He's got a plan, but not without some gaps. He needs a strong back and a weak mind to go sit in the mountains in the middle of the night in single digit temps and flash lights and carry stuff through the snow. He calls Paul, asks for help and offers some bucks even. I jump at the offer and he's here at the house in 15 minutes. We load up, bundle up, and drive, on what back roads are plowed, looking for a suitable site. We found what he was looking for and within minutes Tony was taking pictures. I did my portion of the rigging, he did his. While we were driving and setting up, we saw at least one meteor a minute.

Once fully set-up, but in a lull adjusting cameras, we saw the hugest meteor Tony's ever seen. By far the biggest I've ever seen too, but Tony's the expert. (Tony's been watching and photographing every major meteor shower since 1994. Galen actually died on August 11, 2002- the date of the Perseid Meteor Shower. He said last night's show was the most spectacular! But he says a lot of things...) I don't even like talking about it, it was really scary. My back was turned at first, but this thing lit up the area like daytime! Apocalyptic blue light. As I snapped around to look, I saw the flash disappear behind the horizon. Tony saw the whole thing. I didn't know meteors came like that! We later saw another one that lit up the ground, but not quite as much.

Anyway, Tony snapped pictures and I fulfilled my for-now-secret role. The plan was to be out for the peak, forecast for between 10 and 1. It was 3am before we started for home! It was cold, but Tony's constant stream of banter and exclamations kept me on my toes. And Galen Rowell's expedition down parka kept me warm while sitting still. That's right, I spent a night in Galen's big-mountain down jacket. Every single meteor deserved a "wow" if he captured it, and an expletive if we were between shots. And the rate never let up! At least one per minute on average, we probably saw over 300 total! Going into the night, Tony said he'd be happy with just one shot that half-way met his criteria. He ended up getting 8 shots that fully met the criteria, as well as one that surpassed his "wildest dreams." Previewing the best one on his digital camera, he shouted himself hoarse with excitement. Bookmark the NASA page.

Southern Comfort, Part II

So, we're well established back in one version of our Bishop routine. But the most exciting thing going on is still our trip "down south". Here are some random pictures, arranged in random patterns and random order.


We thought this picture was kinda funny- drowning aliens are funny, right?














Ain't nothing funny about this one- some people are sick!


















We played lots of games- cards, scrabble. With my parents there, Annie had to be on her best behavior- she didn't hate me when I beat her.










Visited the FlorAbama- The Last Great American Roadhouse!












Being the only one riding a "wedgie" bike (cyclist-speak for your traditional, stand-up bicycle. As opposed to a recumbent bike- one rides a recumbent basically sitting in a lawn chair- very comfy. Wedgie bike, not as comfy.) my rear got sore. So Dad and I would swap positions every once in a while- here's a rare picture of all three of us riding.

Blogging on the road!

Hi Y'all!

Jed and I are in Milton, Florida at a KOA kampground hiding from hurricane Ida in a small

kabin. Our OAC boss Richard used to say that using k's in place of words that should be spelled with c's was a signal to bigots that your business was a bigot friendly place to patronize. KOA's being a great example of that. Anyhow, in case you weren't informed, Jed and I are on a biking road trip with his parents. Our plan was to bike from New Orleans for 9 days getting as close to Jacksonville, Florida as possible. We'll probably make it to about Tallahassee. This storm was like a category, like 14 or something w

hen they first saw it out on the horizon. But now that it is closer they are calling it a Tropical Storm. That sure doesn't stop it from raining though. It started at about 9 this morning and hasn't stopped since. So, we didn't ride today. Instead we went to this giant Navy museum that had about 50 planes all in one building and mostly just drove around while I slept or daydreamed. The bike Jed and I are riding in a tandem recumbent bike. I am on the front of it which is a recumbent and Jed is on the back, so he is the one with the sore butt. Here is a small list of interesting things we've done/seen on the trip. For those of you who will be receiving postcards, sorry this is all the sam

e stuff. We have biked 166 miles so far. We've seen 57 pieces of roadkill including 2 alligators. Otherwise, we haven't seen alligators. Though we did see a black bear, a scary looking black snake, and a black monkey! Along the southern coast there are an embarrassing amount of fancy condos. Just lined up forever and ever. The sand here is really white and very fine and the water is surprisingly warm. We spend a night in New Orleans where we drank hurricanes, and rode bulls, and did a few other things inappropriate for a blog entry. I feel like quite the kid, especially tonight. Jeds folks ride in the front seat of the car and Jed and I are in the back. Tonight at the bar a good ol' boy gave me the stuffed animal he won from the machine and our cabin has a double bed and some bunk beds. Jed and I argued for a while about who got the top bunk. Here's to family!

Potentially Boring Update

To our loyal followers! We have not updated too recently- this is mostly because we haven't done anything particularly exciting. But there have been several small things that can perhaps be added up into one somewhat entertaining blog post. Since the Needles, we climbed one day in Tuolumne with our friend Josh. We tried to climb OZ but were rained off and headed to a more craggy area where I took this hilarious (I think) photo of Josh. Then, on the 13th, I ran from North Lake to Pine creek and missed my turnoff adding 3 miles to a 26 mile run (so discouraging!). Then, at Pine Creek, I hopped (ok, stumbled on) on the bike I had stashed there and rode 18 miles back home. I didn't bring a camera, so you've just got to believe me. The 18-20, Jed and I headed to Idyllwild to recertify our Wilderness First Responder certifications. Jed and I have been doing a lot of guiding lately. He did an awesome trip on the Palisade Traverse with a client. He also took another guy up the Third Pillar of Dana and the Dana Couloir in a day. On the 23-24, I guided Whitney, then we both headed to Tahoe to guide the Stanford Business School on a day climbing trip. Then this past Monday I guided Mt. Goode with a very regular client of SMG who has a size 16 shoe! I also just met a guy in town who is teaching Crossfit for free. I am on my way to becoming hard to kill. Oh, speaking of hard to kill, Jed just won the monthly peak baggers challenge for Sage to Summit! Go Jed! Whew- that is about it. Lets cross our fingers for something more entertaining next time.