Post Op (Week 5)

My exercise regime has changed as I am now able to do significantly more in terms of strengthening exercises.

I have increased the resistance on the exercise bike and my floor exercises now include hamstring curls and tensing of my knee at a 90 degree angle.

I'm also pretty much completely weened off the crutch now as well. However, for my own safety, I continue to carry the crutch when I go outside and when I use public transport getting to and from work. I just find having the crutch ensures that I get a seat on the bus and that people know to give me space!

Looking at my scars, they're not too bad either.

It's pretty amazing looking at these scars compared to the enormous damage the surgery used to do only 10 years ago.

Escape attempt!

It was just a normal Saturday night.

I was being lame and studying in my room and my housemate Andy was half asleep on the couch watching a movie.

A pretty pointless and boring night for everyone involved.

.... nothing was happening. Sitting quietly in my room reading journal articles....

A concerned cry from Andy changed that.

"Ummmm, Paul.... we may have a serious problem...."

I rushed out of my room to see a noticeably agitated Andy rummaging through the enclosure of our pet snake Heidi.

It seemed as though Heidi had escaped.

A 3 metre long centralian carpet python had escaped and was loose in the apartment!!!!

Now, this isn't exactly the thing you want to hear when your evening is drawing to a close and you're thinking about going to sleep.

"What the f*** do you mean a serious problem!?!?" I politely enquired.

"I don't f***ing know where she is!!!!" Andy courteously responded.

"Check the f***ing enclosure!!!!" I ventured.

"I can't f***ing find her!!!!" was Andy's retort.

Heidi was not in her enclosure.

We started trying to think like a snake. Where would a snake go?

I ran into the kitchen and tried to search behind the fridge, thinking that she would be drawn to the heat. Sadly not.

Andy rushed into the living room and began lifting the couches. No dice.

I started wandering to the other side of the apartment. I turned the corner and opened the door to the bathroom.

Immediately before me was Heidi.

Two metres and she would have been out the window.

Thankfully, we had probably found her ten minutes before she made her way out of the window into the apartment of one of our neighbours.....

It's going to be a while before Heidi gets outside privileges again!

Post Op (4 weeks)

Four weeks in.

I'm back in Sydney and continuing my rehabilitation.

Things are going very well too.

I'm already able to full weight bear on the leg.

My range of motion is only 1 degree away from being fully straight and I can bend to 127 degrees.

The physios have placed me in the top 10% of recoveries so I'm very happy.

It hasn't been easy getting to this point though. Hard work and diligence have become my mantras.

Every morning, I wake up early, exercise then go to work. I go to the physio during the day. I get back from work and exercise. I exercise just before I go to sleep.

Eight more months.

Post Op (2 weeks)

I'm finally out of the bandages.

The stitches are also out.

I now have in place of the bandages a rather fetching legging.

Most importantly of all, I am now able to have a shower unimpeded by the giant brace on my leg (which I am allowed to take off at certain times).
I was absolutely gobsmacked by how much my left leg has shrunk when the bandages were taken off. It was as though it had halved in comparison to my right leg.

I've also kicked off my physio and personal exercise regime.

Physio, three times a week.

Exercises, four times a day.

Slowly, slowly, slowly....

Post Op (Day 6)

Did I mention how annoying this whole knee reconstruction has been?

It's starting to drive me batty. I need to keep my bandages and brace on for another week and I think I'm going to lose it well before then.

My knee has been aching slightly, but more than anything it just feels stiff. I think the first few physio sessions I go to are going to be nice and painful.

However, I would gladly take on that pain to be rid of the encumbrance on my leg.

Even the simple act of having a shower has become a chore as it requires me to bag up my leg to waterproof the brace and bandages.
One more week. I just need to console myself with that fact.

One more very annoying week.

Post Op (Day 4)

I was out of hospital and being well looked after by my parents.

The lack of pain had been a real surprise. I was clearly immobile as a result of the operation and definitely feeling tired and lethargic from the process, but on the whole it wasn't too bad. I had purposely built the whole thing up in my mind as part of a coping mechanism to ensure that what I did actually experience was nowhere near what I would actually face. The thoughts of "worst pain I had ever experienced" that echoed in my head from what I had read in other accounts wasn't even close to being true. In all honesty, this isn't even in my top ten for the worst pain I've experienced. It's a mild annoyance.

In fact, I've even stopped taking my pain medication. I simply don't need it. There is a mild irritation in my knee, but nothing that is worthy of the requirement for pain medication. Additionally, there's something very disconcerting about being on pain medication. It makes me feel a bit lost and distant. Being able to press the morphine button was one thing, but I felt a strange and uncomfortable sense of detachment when I was taking the other pain meds. I'm glad to be rid of them.

The worst feeling I had to date is still the throat though. This was something that I wasn't expecting (or even aware of) and yet everyone who has gone under general anesthetic seemed to be an after the fact expert. Apparently, when they intubate you, the tubes the push down your throat can irritate the throat. It's been 4 days and my throat still hurts like hell. No amount of ice blocks of lozenges has helped. The one thing that has, is not talking... wonderful.

Mobility is improving as well. I'm up and about without too many issues and bouncing around on my crutches.
As you can see, I have a pretty hefty set of bandages and a nice big brace preventing me from moving too quickly though. I can "partial weight bear" but generally I prefer doing the long hop motion. It gets me around quicker (and I feel myself getting increasingly impatient).

It's all just so annoying. This entire process. Annoying is the adjective that describes it completely.

Post Op (1-2 days)

Annoying and uncomfortable. Those are the best words to describe the feeling of the recovery.

It doesn't hurt that badly, but it's annoying not having my mobility.

I was always very upset when the nurses took away my morphine button. I had become quite attached to the button.

Sitting in bed, I was becoming increasingly bored. The CPM machine did its job and kept my leg moving, but besides that there wasn't too much too do.

The food came around and brought back memories of boarding school.

It wasn't bad, but it wasn't great. Nothing to complain about.
I had started wandering around on my crutches as well.

This whole process of recovery was clearly going to be time consuming and frustrating, but thankfully it looked like there would be no major issues with pain.

Post Op

Was it that bad?

I don't think it was.

Or maybe it's just the painkillers that are coursing through my veins, making everything seem so much better than it is.

Either way, the last thing I remember is being hooked up to some needles and then the next thing I remember was waking up in the recovery ward.

The nurses were nice and gave me a drink and an ice block.

I couldn't feel anything in my leg. Nothing at all. The femoral block that had been administered to manage my pain had clearly done its job.

Laying in bed with the tubes sticking out of me and the slow whir of the CPM machine ensuring that my leg was moving and not stiffening, I was overwhelmed by a wave of fatigue.
The lack of sleep from the night before was clearly catching up with me.

I groped around to my side and found the painkillers button. I pressed it and allowed myself to float off to sleep.

Pre Op

I hate waking up early. I always have and I always will. I'm much more of a night person.

The day of the surgery was upon me and I had to wake up at 5:00am to get to the hospital nice and early to check in.

Andy very nicely woke up and drove me in.

It was strange to not feel nervous. I was just relieved that I was finally able to get this done. I had been waiting a long time for this. I had been over 4 months since the injury so it had definitely been a long time coming.

After I was checked into my room, I sat silently waiting for the nurse until I got bored and decided to wander around and take a few photos.

Soon enough, the nurse came back and began to prep me.

She shaved my knee and I washed my leg in an antiseptic soap. Once I had done that, my leg was coated in betadine and I was wheeled towards the operating theater.

It felt strange being wheeled through the halls, the lights passing as I rolled along.

As I lay in the operating theater, I felt the needle of the anesthetist enter my arm. The doctor placed an oxygen over my face.... and then I was out cold.

Very very loud

I never expected to be here.

I have always appreciated music, but I have never been a dedicated or passionate fan as others are.

So it was more than surprising for me to be at a Metallica concert.

This band conjures up such passion amongst its true followers that I felt almost like a heretic at a religious event. Seeing the adulation and the adoration of the fans towards the hallowed stage, I was a distant observer.

It probably didn't help that I only have knowledge of a few of Metallica's most famous songs.

So as the others around me sang word for word what I found to be at times to be lyrics that were impossible to decipher through the volume of the music, I was forced to smile and soak up the atmosphere.
None of this prevented me from enjoying myself.

I have always been one to appreciate the spectacle, and this was well and truly a spectacle.

Metallica have finely tuned their performance abilities and it was amazing to see the precision of the show. The songs were well chosen, the effects impressive, and the choreographed movements around the stage perfect to ensure that no part of the arena felt neglected.
A few pyrotechnics also helped to keep me nicely enthralled.
As the night came to an end, it was great seeing the band hamming it up. They engaged the crowd and they even provided additional fun with a Metallica beach ball drop.

Standing in the crowd, it looked as though there were dozens of droplets of oil dancing and bouncing around in a surreal sea of people.

Damn it was loud though.... my ears are still ringing.

Broken knee

It's happened.

I was fearful that this was what had happened and I have been justified in my fears.

I have ruptured the anterior cruciate ligament in my left knee.

The initial denial stopped me from seeing a doctor as soon as I should. I tried to persevere and I even managed to go back to training a few times.

Alas, it was for nothing. Collapsing in a heap in agony should have notified me of this earlier.

Instead, I now find myself facing a full knee reconstruction.

So I have a painful surgery and a huge amount of rehabilitation in front of me.

Talking to my doctor (who it turns out is one of the top knee orthos in Australia), I have been advised to use the patella tendon graft as opposed to the hamstring graft. It's going to hurt more, but it seems like it's going to give me the strongest knee ligament and the smaller chance of the graft not taking.

The extra pain isn't welcome, but short term pain for longer term gain seems like the best option to take.

Not having the surgery isn't really an option.

I want my active life back. I want to ski again and I want the thrill of taking a mark back.

It's just another challenge to overcome.

Just one more game

Damn Hawks.

I've never quite known why the fortunes of the Hawks impacts my mood so much, but it does.

The Hawks had somehow managed to lose their finals game and so I was guaranteed a week with a foul mood.

I had to console myself with attending the game between the Sydney Swans and the Carlton Blues instead.

The Hawks may have been knocked out, but there were plenty of teams I hated who I could cheer against. The Blues would be a good team to start cheering against.

One enormous downside was that I would need to go to ANZ Stadium out at Homebush.

I hate this stadium.

It's cold and unfeeling. There's a disconnect between the seats and the action on the field.

My boss refuses to even go to it.

And that's before you even start thinking about the annoying trip required to reach it.

However, that wasn't going to stop me enjoying the game.

And what a game it was! A tight and close encounter that lasted until the very last moment of the game. The Blues lost, which was fantastic. The Hawks may be out of the finals, but that doesn't mean there aren't plenty of teams for me to barrack against.
I love being at the footy.

There isn't anything that compares to the roar of the crowd at an AFL game. The Sydney supporters were out in force for once and provided one of the few occassions where the atmosphere at an AFL game in Sydney was actually a positive.

But, for every winner, there must be a loser.

Watching the Blues drop their heads into their hands, I almost felt sorry for them.

.... until I remembered who they were, at which point I burst into hysterical laughter.

Classy seats

I went to a Aussie Rules football match a few weeks ago.

My beloved Hawthorn Hawks were playing up in Sydney, so as a Hawks member, I was able to get my fix of football for the year.

Sadly the result didn't go as I had hoped.

So I won't be discussing it.

In fact, as far as I'm concerned, the result never happened (and I didn't spend the end of the game screaming abuse the players as the ran off the field).

A few days ago, I was given the opportunity to watch a game minus the personal interests affecting my mental state and judgement.

The added incentive was that I was being offered SCG members' tickets.

The seats were fantastic, with the added bonus of a conveniently placed bar that served a far wider range of beers than in the general admission areas.

They also had a lovely selection of cakes.

I found myself in a strange situation I had never been in before.

Sitting at the football, drinking beer that wasn't awful and eating a slice of cake.

It seemed a world away from my usual cup of tea, meat pie and obstructed view.

The game was also significant because it was the last time that the Swans captain, Brett Kirk, would ever play at the SCG as he was headed towards retirement.
It was a fantastic way to watch a game.

From outside, we always used to yell at the Members... but it's hard not to be happy once your in the comfortable confines this section.

Like a sponge

Josh decided to look back to his childhood for the first thing he would make with his new toy.

Instead of making something exotic or that he had seen being made by one of the dozens of celebrity chefs (and there really do seem to be a lot of celebrity chefs these days... many of whom don't even appear to be celebrities), Josh decided he wanted to make a nice sponge cake.

And really, who could blame him?

Growing up in Australia, this was a staple of our childhood diets. This was what you would have packed into your lunch box for recess. This was what the old ladies at the church picnics would bake for everyone.

I was happy to help.

As Josh began to prepare the sponges and the creams, I gave him a hand making the chocolate icing.
It's such a relatively straight forward cake compared to what people seem to demand these days, but that did not impact our anticipation of it.
As Josh began spreading the icing with the palette knife, what was before us was like a vision from our childhood days.
And in all honesty, who can say no to a nice slice of sponge cake?

It's time to kick it up a notch!

Cooking as something enjoyable started for me during my university days.

Unable to afford food cooked in restaurants and sick of eating meals out of cans, I was forced to learn how to cater for myself (it also didn't help that I had accidentally signed up for a self-catered college instead of the fully catered college I originally wanted to go to).

As time progressed, cooking moved from being purely for the purposes of sustenance to being an enjoyable challenge.

And like any challenge, as I became better at it, the difficulty of the tasks I gave myself increased as well.

However, none of this changed the fact that I was still a poor student....

I could learn all manner of skills, but that wouldn't change the fact that I was still working with relatively basic tools and ingredients.

Things were now changing though. Full time jobs and the associated funds have that effect.

Josh was the one who fired the first shot in our escalation of seriousness towards cooking and food.

He bought a KitchenAid for the apartment!!!

It looks amazing doesn't it? And it's completely worth it. Tasks which used to take an age, now get finished in seconds. It reduces so many tasks that were previously time consuming to being mere formalities.

Meandering through life

Before heading back to Sydney, I thought it would be nice to have a quick look at the local towns of Katoomba and Leura.

They were nice places and it was impossible not to use the word "quaint" to describe them (even though it's difficult to describe what the word really means).

However, there was definitely something amiss.

At first I couldn't work out what it was.

But it came to me quickly.

I didn't really fit into the "Blue Mountains crowd".

There seemed to be two types of people who travelled to the Blue Mountains. There were those who were part of the organised tour groups and then there were the couples on romantic get aways.

I didn't fit into these two groups.

Wandering on the streets between these two groups made me feel strangely out of place. It was like being a child again, being dragged to an event by your parents.

Or maybe the better way to describe it would be the other way around. Being a parent, dragged to something your children wanted to go to.

With all of the boutiques, expensive furniture stores and high end chocolate makers, this certainly felt like some sort of bizarro Disneyland for pensioners and couples.

Still, I made the best of it.

I wandered around like a tourist. I browsed a CWA market. I bought some pancake syrup.

I gawked at the Christmas store.....

A positive attitude is usually all you need to enjoy yourself.

Relaxing in the mountains

Walking around a huge amount wasn't on my agenda with a very sore knee.

Instead, I was hoping for a quiet break where I could have some respite from work and the city.

The place I found myself seemed fairly sufficient for that purpose.

The birthday bash was being held in this house with its own large garden and we were all staying overnight.
There were no complaints from me at all.

Getting out of the apartment and to somewhere more spacious was welcome.
I had become accustomed to constant noise and activity of working in the city and living in a full apartment.

The peace and quiet of these surrounds stood in sharp contrast. It was nice to be able to walk through the gardens by myself and to smell the scent of eucalyptus in the air.
As night arrived and the temperatures dropped, we were all able to gather next to the fire.
All of these things were very simple pleasures, but I had clearly forgotten about them until now.

The Blue Mountains

It feels like it's been a long time since I've been travelling anywhere. I don't like the static feeling of being stuck in one place for so long. Living in Sydney, while generally enjoyable, is beginning to make me feel a bit trapped.

The opportunity to get out of the city was very welcome, even if it was a short trip somewhere close.

My good friend Rachel was being given a surprise birthday party and we were all invited up to the Blue Mountains.

I had amazingly never been the Blue Mountains.

Well, that wasn't exactly true.

I "had" been to the Blue Mountains when I was younger. However, this was back in high school days, when we were driven into the middle of the bush and left to fend for ourselves. Struggling through the bush with backpacks, freeze dried food and tarps for shelter was not the most relaxing way to experience the place.

I now found myself enjoying this place at a far more than my previous experience.

Being able to walk at my own pace rather than being forced on a death march seems to have that effect.I was also able to see the famous "Three Sisters".

It was OK I guess.

I didn't understand what all the commotion was about though.
The scenery was admittedly very nice. But I wasn't blown away and I didn't feel the shiver in my spine that I get when I see something truly spectacular.
I wonder whether it's because I am comparing it to other places? Am I being unfair and comparing it to places that are simply too much more impressive? Or maybe it is that I now look through eyes filled with too much cynicism.

Regardless, what I should do, is ignore these thoughts in the back of my mind, and just enjoy the moments immediately before me.

Cooking a cloud

In the last two years, Australia has been taken over by the craze of "Masterchef".

This show was originally from the UK, but it has been reformatted for Australian audiences.

The results have been pretty spectacular. The show has taken over popular culture. It's on 6 times a week and regularly tops the ratings. Who would have thought that a cooking show would have become this popular?

Something that people have become fond of doing is attempting the numerous recipes that are used in the show for themselves.

I was keen to try this myself!

And the recipe I wanted to try was a rhubarb and blackberry soufflé with a crumble topping.

Sounds good doesn't it?

Andy was keen to try the recipe as well. Sadly for Josh, he found himself called away at the last moment. As he grabbed his keys and walked out the door, Andy and I could see him staring hungrily at our preparations.

That wasn't going to stop Andy and I with our attempt at the soufflé though.

I was a touch nervous. I had never made a souffle before (of any kind) and I knew of how temperamental they could be. The last thing I wanted was another macaron debacle that would leave me tired, cranky and with little to show for it.

First thing to do was to prepare the stewed fruit. Lots of chopping and a disturbing amount of sugar later and the stewing of the rhubarb and blackberries was under way.

As Andy continued to stir the stewed fruit, I began to prepare the crumble to top it off with by chopping the hazelnuts.
I chopped the hazelnuts finely and combined them with the sugar, butter, flower and oats. I then spread the mixture out evenly on some baking paper to be placed in the oven.
Things seemed to be going well enough as I put the crumble mixture into the
oven to brown. Nothing disastrous had happened and all our work appeared to be going smoothly.With the crumble nicely browned, and the fruit having been stewed to a point that it now held its shape, we now needed to prepare the ramekins.

A souffle is a delicate thing. Even the most minor of interferences can stop it from rising properly. To prevent this from happening, the ramekins need to be well buttered and sugared. This creates a lubricant that allows the soufflé mixture to rise as it expands.
One layer of butter is brushed on, then another, then sugar is laid over the top of this.
With the ramekins ready and sitting in the fridge. We turned out attention back to the soufflé mixture.

The fruit stew needed to be combined with the egg whites after we had beaten them to soft peaks. These beaten egg whites have a huge amount of sugar added to them.

Once beaten, we take turns slowly folding the mixture together. Carefully, we move the spatula through the mixture, ensuring we don't knock the air out of the soufflé. After all of this work, the last thing we want if for a mixture that fails to rise.
Then, we gently spoon the mixtures in the ramekins we prepared earlier, taking particular care to not disturb the butter and sugar coating on the side. We cleaned off the tops with a palette knife and using the tips of our thumbs, we carved sharp edges into the mixture to create a lip on each soufflé.
The soufflé were now ready to be placed into the oven.
I sat in front of the over, waiting patiently. Hoping that they would rise.
Thankfully, all my worries were unfounded.

After they had risen about a centimetre, we took the soufflés out of the oven and added the crumble on top.
A few more minutes and they were done!
It was hard not to feel pleased.

After the difficulties I had faced in making the macarons, I was taking this as a win.

Our soufflés had risen more than I could have imagined, with the crumble perched precariously on top.
It was now time to determine whether our best efforts had been successful and whether the flavour matched the appearance.
Thankfully, the recipe and our best efforts had been a success.
The soufflé's flavour was sweet and fresh, matching well to the lightness of the texture.

I wonder what I should try to make next.