Waiting is the hardest part

Monday I go back to the orthopedic doctor and he tells me what the next step will be to fixing my knee. When I last saw him, he told me that he expected me to be back at 100% with no pain by the 23rd. That hasn’t happened. On Tuesday, the 10th, as I was walking down the stairs at home, my knee made another really loud pop and it felt like the patella once again slid sideways. I’m back to where I started three and a half months ago, except much more seriously depressed over it. He mentioned that the next step would be an MRI and then we could discuss what the next step will be. I am seriously terrified of surgery. I’m too young for a knee replacement. I’m tired of being in pain. I’m tired of trying to be strong outwardly while I crumble silently inside.

I want someone to hug me and tell me that everything will be alright. I want someone to tell me it’s alright to be broken. I want someone who understands that my brokenness is what makes me unique and special, and not something to avoid or dismiss. I just want to be me, without all the pain and hurting all the time. The problem is, I don’t know who I’d be if I wasn’t in pain. Would I be a happier person? Would I actually have more than a few friends who stick by me through thick and thin and don’t vanish when I need them the most? Sometimes I think that people are friends with me because I make their lives seem wonderful in comparison.

I’ll be back on Monday evening to let y’all know how my appointment went, unless something earth shattering happens before then.


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