One of the many topics covered in my psychology class in nursing school was grief. The patterns of grief we studied were laid out by a Swiss/American psychiatrist, her name was Elisabeth Kubler-Ross. She was a pioneer in her field of near-death studies. She wrote an incredible book on near-death experiences, called On Death and Dying.She also designed a staging system for grief from what she observed. The image below illustrates her five stages, as you will see, they include Denial, Anger Bargaining, Depression & Acceptance.
So, great, you are thinking… What does that have to do with me and my recent, or upcoming knee surgery? More than likely, whether you realize it or not, post-surgery, you will grieve. Having your joint replaced, or repaired (think ACL repair), will change your life, pretty significantly. No matter how well mentally prepared you believe you are, it is likely you will run into some major emotional obstacles along the way. You are absolutely not alone, you most certainly not the only one. As you can see above- grief is a very real thing. Whether you are grieving a loved one, or a lifestyle, or a part of your body, the cycle is the same. That being said- we are human beings, we never seem to “follow the text.” Those different stages are purely informational. We don’t necessarily experience them in a specific order. It is highly likely we will bounce around from stage to stage as time progresses and we adjust to our “new normal.” The take away here is what IS “normal” is virtually anything. Expect all kinds of feelings at anytime.
I’ve recently had a few joint replacement recipients be very surprised about how down they were feeling post-op. That anger part whirring up- “Nobody told me about this part!” I am always immediately brought back to those early days when I felt like that. I clearly remember sitting in my orthopedic surgeon’s office, telling him, with tears streaming down my cheeks, that I had made a dreadful mistake. I’m not exactly sure what I thought he would do about it. He obviously was not going to take my knees back out. He gave me a no-time-for-BS pep-talk, (in a good way), handed me a tissue and my walking cane, then showed me the door. He knew I would be fine. He knew I was grieving. He knew I was angry and needed a good cry. I was not the first patient he’d given that talk to, and I most certainly would not be the last. Looking back, the only think I think I would like to have seen be different- was my ability to deal with the situation better. Had I been more emotionally prepared for the grief (and depression!) that I was going to feel, I think those nine intense months of recovery may have gone a little smoother- BUT- as they say, hindsight is 20/20!
Now, as I speak to new patients, I try my best to prepare them for the emotional roller-coaster to come. I talk about grief, I talk about depression. I talk about acceptance and happiness- because that’s the ultimate goal!
There’s a quote I remember reading in a parenting book years ago- “The days are long, but the years are short.” It obviously had to do with raising children, but it has some validity with recovery as well. Those long painful days may slowly drag by, but before you know it, they string together, and you will look back and see (in a year!) how incredibly far you’ve come. The cloud will lift and some semblance of the active life you knew or one even more active than you could have imagined will emerge. Just keep moving forward! You’ve got this!
Be Well!
-Laurie
