So here I am, up at 5 am writing on blog. I have had a pretty restless night and the dog finally decided seal the deal at 4:15 when he needed to go out.
What is there to keep me awake and write about at 5am? Well, yesterday afternoon I made my way to Millinocket to have my 2nd follow up appointment with my knee surgeon. On my way up which takes about half an hour through the woods, life was good. The sun was shining, there was no traffic (yes there can be traffic, even in the middle of the woods, this traffic just usually consist of 140,000lb log trucks). I even got to see my first moose of the spring, which his fresh new antlers poking through his forehead. Life seemed good for those 30 minutes. Then reality bitch slapped me.
My knee surgeon is the best. From the very first minute I met him I felt comfortable with him and for some reason at that same moment realized that I totally trusted this man. In all my appointments with him I have found that I really take what he says to heart and I believe what he tells me really is what is in my best interest. Maybe it's because he's british, I don't know.
Anyway, as the appointment went on and we discussed my aches and pains, he was going over his reports from physical therapy as I related my side of the story. What it boils down to is progress is not moving at the pace it needs too. My knee cap is not re-aligning the way he had hoped it would and my leg is only working at about 20% capacity. He is giving me 6 more weeks of physical therapy. This somewhat stole the wind out of me, kind of the whined up to the bitch slap coming. I was only supposed to be out 6 weeks to begin with after the surgery. Next Tuesday it will be 2 months. I have worked full time since I was 15, when I was 19 there was a little lull in there where I was laid off, but that was only for a couple weeks. I found under-the-table jobs that had me working more than a normal week.
So as I was running things through my head at the speed of a f'in bullet train, the next thing that comes out of his mouth is that if he doesn't see the progress he wants in 6 weeks, there is a better than fair chance he will want to take me back into surgery to do what he can to re-align everything his way. And KER-POW. It literally took me about 5 seconds to truly process what he had just said to me. He was seriously talking another surgery. A surgery that by my understanding is a bigger undertaking than the first one we went through.
I am honestly lost here. I am torn in ways that I really can't describe. There are going to be people here that say its a no brainer decision. But its not that simple. I have been out of work for 7 weeks, we're talking 13 by the time I even know if I need surgery and then could very well be another 12 weeks of recovery after that. My wife has been stellar through this whole process. She could of very well told me to go fuck myself several times but she has stood by me through everything. I don't know if I want to put her through this again.
The thing that scares me the most is my job. The Lumbras have treated me like family over the years. Whenever I have needed something they have been there for me. They really are the best people in the world to work for because they are the only place I have ever seen that truly, truly cares more about their employees than themselves. That being said, I can only expect them to put up with so much. They already had to hire someone to take a lower job so one of the more experienced guys could slide up and fill in for me. I am going in this morning to talk to the bosses and see what they have to say.
I need to get in contact with my short term disability provider cause I am not completely sure how long my benefits will last. I absolutely cannot and will not put all the financial burden on Heather. I guess that is what it really boils down to. If I lose my benefits, I'm going back to work.
My knee, I think, is better than it was before I went into surgery. It might have to be good enough. I said from the beginning that if I was going to go through this I was going to do it the right way, because there was no sense in doing it if I was going to half ass it. Now I'm scared I just might have to half ass it to survive and worry about fixing it the right way later on.