I finally reached critical mass (literally and figuratively). The moment when my depression and anxiety and my physical health have become unmanageable.
Between November and December 2021, 
It's been a year an a half. Since then, we have experienced so much as a family. A new home, a better car, new schools, all of us (especially me) reaching for and fulfilling lifelong dreams, letting pets go that passed away, inviting new pets into our home, watching the garden grow, getting closer as a family, experiencing the loss of the kid's biological mom, family drama, kids fighting, car breakdowns, tight budgets, getting therapy, doctors visits, covid and teenage hormones... So much to be grateful and proud of. We've really blossomed individually and as a family, but somehow, especially in the last few months, I've lost sight of the positive and crippling depression has taken over.
Look, I have always suffered from chronic anxiety and depression, but there's nothing like physical injury and the inability to exercise or enjoy the outdoors to totally get you down.
I have never had a broken bone or had a serious injury in my life (except my coccyx and a rib or two) and within the 1st month of moving together, I managed to royally f#@%$ up both of my knees.
Some time an the beginning of November, was the 1st accident where my right knee was damaged. It started out as what I suspect was an ordinary sprain - sustained by diving into my car to pull up the handbrake as it was sliding backwards out of the driveway after my son plonked his bag on top of the handbrake, accidentally releasing it. As we mothers do, I totally ignored it, as I was far too busy running after children to worry.
Then four weeks later, we moved house. While carrying a desk with my daughter, her side slipped and the desk fell on to me as I was moving out of the lounge and into our garden. I twisted on the spot to throw the desk away from myself, but not back at her or into the glass doors, and in doing so, I tore my medial ligament in my left knee.
I've been putting off seeking specialist help (aside from my GP who sent me for x-rays and confirmed no broken bones or dislocation of the joint) cause I bloody can't afford it. My GP did suspect a medial ligament tear, but could not confirm this as he is not a knee specialist and would need an MRI to be able to ascertain if there was soft tissue damage. The South African Healthcare system (Even in the private sector - although I don't have medical aid so that's not even an option) is so broken.
As a result, my depression and anxiety have escalated horribly and the chronic pain is exhausting. My life's passion: Performing live, is agony and takes weeks to recover. I'm often stuck for entire weekends/ days in bed.
It's been a year and a half and I finally bit the bullet. and went to a knee specialist. He diagnosed me with a torn medial meniscus and said I will not heal without surgery and I am at major risk of further injury.
I am wearing a hinged knee brace, which has helped me phenomenally, but I've sort of just been hoping it would go away. I had a minor injury in my right knee just four weeks before the big one, so that knee is now also giving in after repetitively straining it.
And I've gained 20 kgs 🙁 sucks to be great at cooking and baking and even better at eating.
It also really didn't help my mental health that aside from my partner, no one took my injury seriously and I've been limping along in agony for a year and a half. I have literally lost friendships, relationships with family and even respect at work because of my inability to move and perform daily activities the way I used to.
This time has really been such an eye opener to me about how people treat people with a disability. From inconsiderate behaviour on the bus, in shopping queues, performing tasks at work to social events: most people have just expected me to show up like there's nothing wrong because I'm clearly not really injured, not enough to be taken seriously.
I stopped taking tramadol (that's the hectic stuff) about 7 months ago because that stuff is scary. I was taking it as prescribed, actually erring a little more on the side of caution: taking a low dose 10 days on and 10 days off because of the addictive properties and because of the contraindications with my anxiety and depression medication.
Since then, I've been managing my pain with mybulen/ myprodol/ genpain (which are all over-the-counter mild opioid/ paracetamol/ ibuprophen combination medications) and CBD stuff.
I got to the point now where the fear of not knowing what is going on, the pain and the feeling of being mentally buried alive have just become utterly overwhelming.
So I finally went for REAL help.
One of our patients at work referred me to her husband who is an extremely well-renowned knee specialist and surgeon. Thanks to y'all here on hive, I managed to save enough for the consultation. Upon examination he was able to (without sending me for an MRI - which I cannot afford now, without saving here on Ecency for like the whole year) diagnose me. The ligament damage is so bad he could feel it slipping out of place as he raised and lowered and flexed my left leg, applying pressure at certain points. The main medial ligament that runs over the front and centre of the knee is badly damaged, which basically means it slips out of the way/ to the side when I try to stand on it, which is why I have that terrible feeling of WRONG that I just couldn't describe. Not necessarily pain. Just WRONG. This is apparently called "severe stability apprehension" and thank GOD I had it otherwise I would have dislocated my leg while trying to walk on the beach... like a "normal" person. My right knee, since it has never been allowed the chance to heal from the initial injury, most likely now has a cartilage tear - which is causing me the most amount of pain. He would have ordinarily repaired this smaller injury in my right knee in his rooms, but due to it now being my prominent knee while I await surgery for the left knee, I would only continue to reinjure it.
Because of my financial situation and not being able to afford private medical care, he has referred me to a government health facility, but the one I need to get into is tough. It's possibly the best in the country and the only one of three in Cape Town that even performs the surgery I require. They're an absolute pain to get into, and usually require that you live in a certain area. If you don't, you usually have to jump through hoops that are on fire (metaphorically, of course) to get in.
It's not going to be easy, but basically, I need his referral letter (which I now have) a letter from my GP confirming his original findings, my financial status and that I am not on medical aid and my x-rays that were taken at the time of the injury.
When it does finally come time for the surgery, I have been advised to ask my GP for painkillers and sleeping medication because our healthcare system is terrible at prescribing pain relief in hospital. I'm terrified.
Groote Schuur is a phenomenal hospital though. It is one of the oldest in the country and is also the hospital where the 1st successful heart transplant was performed. It is a teaching hospital and is linked to The University of Cape Town. That means, I'll most likely be operated on by an orthopedic professor. I wouldn't even dream of receiving that kind of care in the private sector. So what is scaring me so much? I've been for surgery before and it's always scary, but never at a government health facility. I don't think it really matters though, especially in this case since Groote Schuur is such a phenomenal hospital, but the fear ever goes away.
Well, now that I have a proper diagnosis and I know it's not all in my head and it's not just because "I'm fat" I feel like I can crawl out of this horrible mental cycle I'm in.
Luckily I am in the medical industry and I have a dietician helping me out to lose weight before the op and also to alleviate pain.
I'll now put on my big girl panties, I'll get all my paperwork together, and some time this month, I will get up at 5am and go sit in the queue.
Please wish me luck as I try to take my life back, with every ounce of energy I have left.
P.S. No! This is NOT Herbalife and I'm not selling it 🤣🤣🤣🤣 this is what my life will be looking like though for quite some time, with some wiggle room on the weekends.
