My Knees Were Sawed in Half and Put Back Together Again! A Humerous Look at Having Two Knee Replacements in Your 30's

Most people don't get knee replacements till their 50's or 60's at the earliest. I had both of mine done in my 30's....and I did it awake!

Why Did I Need to Have My Knees Sawed in Half and Put Back Together With Hardware in the First Place?

There's a Weird Al song called "Hardware Store," and whenever I listen to it (man, I love Weird Al), I'm reminded of my knee replacement experiences. You see, the song starts out with the sounds of hand and power tools being used.

That's something you tend to associate strongly in your memory when those tools are being used on YOU.

The First Knee Replacement

With my first knee replacement, I did it because the ligaments and other soft tissues around my right knee drew up so much that I couldn't straighten the knee anymore. I was walking around on a bent knee, and it was weird; I was all lopsided when I stood up. My orthopedist said a knee replacement was the only thing that would fix it, so I did it. I didn't want to walk around on a bent knee for the next few decades until most doctors would deem me old enough to get a new knee.

The Second Knee Replacement

The second knee replacement was done on my left knee a few years later, after the cartilage had all been destroyed by the arthritis in that joint, and it was bone-on-bone contact in there. I could barely stand, because whenever I did, there was this sickening "crunch" of knee bone scraping against knee bone. It was worse than walking on a bent knee; I could barely walk at all. So, another knee replacement was in the works.

Why I Kept Putting Off That Second Knee Replacement....and a Terrible Thing That Happened to My Friend (Yes, The Two Things are Actually Related in a Bizarre Way)

It's funny, because even though I REALLY needed that second knee replacement, I kept putting it off, because I remembered how horrible the first one was. It was only when a good childhood friend asked me to be a bridesmaid in her wedding that I agreed to do it, so I could glide gracefully down the aisle.

The first day I was home from the hospital after getting the surgery, I got a text from her saying she'd found out her fiance' was already married, had a long-term mistress, and four other girlfriends, all set up in different houses he owned. This was six weeks before her scheduled wedding. Obviously, she did NOT get married (at least, not to that guy....she's happily married now, two years later). But, I got my knee replacement, and I wouldn't have done it if not for her. So, something good came out of it.

Me, going in for Knee Replacement #2, which the universe seems to have made happen by giving my friend a sociopathic fiance'.

How Did My Knees Get So Bad at Such a Young Age? Glad You Asked!

The road leading to the surgeries started when I was 16 and a junior in high school. A slightly swollen right knee I couldn't even get my mom to pay attention to blew up into the size of a potato overnight, literally.

Thus began a six month journey to all kinds of doctors who ran every test under the sun on me to try to find the soft tissue injury they just KNEW was there.

The thing is, I didn't injure my knee, and I was perfectly aware of it. I've never been athletic or into sports. I hate them. P.E. was my least favorite subject in school, besides math. Yeah, I did community theater and high school theater, mostly musicals, but I was such a bad dancer, I was never given anything complex to do (I'm more of a singing and acting girl). There's no way I could have injured my knee, and even if I did, wouldn't I know it?

Hey, Doctors, That MD by Your Name Doesn't Mean You Know Everything!

I couldn't convince all those doctors it wasn't an injury, though. LONG after my mother and I figured out through reading books that it must be juvenile rheumatoid arthritis, doctors were still insisting it couldn't possibly be that....I was too young for arthritis.

When that same swelling, inflammation, and pain hit my elbows six months after the first symptom, THEN they believed me.

With good medication, I went into remission for several years, and was able to enjoy the rest of my teens as a relatively normal teen girl (well, as normal as I ever am).

Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis in My 20's and Beyond

I had flares from time to time throughout my 20's, including a pretty bad one when I was 27 that added further damage to the 8 joints that were affected. With the juvenile version of arthritis, you usually only get a few large joints that are affected, which is what happened with me. I'm actually lucky. The adult version is much worse. But, if you get it as a kid, you keep the kid presentation of it, even if you carry it with you beyond childhood. The juvenile version is pretty mild, all things considered.

But, that bad flare at 27 messed up my knees (and elbows, which also need to be replaced one day), and de-stabilized them, so over the next few years, they deteriorated to the point where I couldn't use them anymore.

I needed new knees.

This is what they did to both of my knees. I set off metal detectors now.

The Surgeries....and Why I Insisted on Doing Them Both Awake

Most people shudder at the thought of doing any surgery awake, much less one that involves power tools. You should see the looks on other people's faces when I tell them the things I heard, and even felt, during the surgeries. They go a bit green.

Not me. I insisted on it. I've got a fairly serious phobia of general anesthesia, and would only consider using it if the surgery were a lifesaving one and no other option was available. The good news is, both of my orthopedists agreed to do it my way.

Anesthesiologists Tend to Be Douchebags, in My Experience

Anesthesiologists, though....man, they want to push that general anesthesia on you. I guess they have an easier time during the surgery if you're completely zonked. I argued heavily, both times, with arrogant anesthesiologists who wanted to give me general, when my surgeons and I had already agreed on regional.

The first time, I told the anesthesiologist I was going to get up and go home. He went and talked to my surgeon, then came back out and said we could do it my way.

The second time, I actually GOT up and started to pull the IV out of the back of my hand when the anesthesiologist seemed determined to give me general. Me tugging on the IV line and pulling off the tape seemed to alarm him, and he insisted I wait while he conferred with my surgeon. Once again, just like the first time, he came back saying we could do it with regional, like I wanted.

I don't know what my surgeons said to them, but I'm glad they said it.

Regional Anesthesia is Where it's at, Man

Now, you're not TOTALLY awake when you do regional. They give you an epidural and tranquilize you. The epidural isn't as bad as you might think. Yeah, a long needle goes into your lower back, right between your vertebrae. But, it works so quickly at numbing you from the waist down, you only feel the initial prick on your skin, and that's it. Your legs are so numb by the time they have the needle in and taped in place, other people have to lift them onto the operating table for you.

You also get a catheter, because being numb from the waist down pretty much eliminates your bladder control.

They let you choose the degree to which you want to be tranquilized. Your options are mild, moderate, and heavy. I chose moderate both times. It gives you a nice nap, but you're awake enough you hear the loud power tools.

I woke up when I heard the bone saw cutting off the top of my shin bone and the bottom of my thigh bone.

I woke up when the bone re-surfacer vibrated my whole body.

I woke up when I heard the surgeon hammering the titanium implant into the top of my shin bone.

The cool thing about being well-informed about what the operations entailed, but being tranquilized while they were going on, was that I just woke up long enough to think, "Oh, this must be THAT part of the operation. How nice." Then, I went back to sleep.

I even kept trying to roll over on my side during the first one, and the nurses would roll me back onto my back. I woke up for those occasions, too.

Recovery, Blessed Relief....and Getting a Normal Life Back Again

With both surgeries, I was wide awake before they took me out of the operating room. When they turn off that tranquilizer drip, you are no longer tranquilized...like, immediately.

Both times, I propped myself up on my elbows to look at the clock, and asked what time it was. Knee replacements are only supposed to take 2 1/2 to 3 hours, and I wanted to make sure they were within their time frame. With the first one, they made me take my contact lenses out before the surgery, so I genuinely needed the OR staff to tell me what was on the clock. The second time, I just didn't mention I was wearing contacts before they started the surgery (haha!), so I was able to see the clock quite well on my own.

After the second surgery, I also asked for my cell phone, which I'd brought into the OR with me, and which a surgical team member took away and set aside when they saw I still had it. For the second surgery, I'd sent my husband home to take a nap, saying I didn't require anyone waiting for me, doing nothing for hours while my leg was taken apart and put back together. I needed my phone to call him and tell him I was okay and to come back whenever he was up to it. So, I asked for my phone back after the second surgery, right after asking about the time.

Priorities, you know.

Let's Talk About Pain (Or, Where the HELL Are My Pain Meds?)

With the first surgery, the epidural was left in for two days, giving me some decent pain relief.

With the second surgery, the epidural was removed as soon as I was in the recovery room, and I soon discovered, an order for additional pain meds had NOT BEEN PUT IN YET!

Once the epidural is out, your protection from the pain is gone. So, I spent the next two hours moaning, gripping the sides of the bed, and tossing my head around, trying to keep it cool as I felt the full force of pain from just having my leg sawed in half and stapled back up. They were SO not on top of things with that one.

When I finally got a Dilaudid drip going after I was in my room, it was pure bliss. They also gave me an oral tranquilzer, AND Benadryl (because I'm allergic to Dilaudid and morphine....they make me itch like mad), so I was good and stoned, and having a lovely time.

Blood Transfusions

I only stayed in the hospital four days both times. Both times, I also needed a blood transfusion, because I tend toward anemia, and surgery makes it worse; both times, my dad and brother donated blood beforehand, so I knew from whence the blood was coming. And, both times, it really perked me up.

The first time, I just got one bag, so I don't know if it was my dad's or my brother's. The second time, I got both bags, so I got a little bit of Dad and my brother in me.

My dad still insists it must have been his "good, wholesome blood" that made me feel better. My brother, who is a molecular biologist, had other ideas on that subject.

They make you do some physical therapy in the hospital, but mostly you just rest. The real work starts when you get home.

Physical Therapy

You've GOT to do physical therapy to get any benefit from a knee replacement. And, believe me, when you're newly recovering, your knee is still swollen, and you've still got staples in your skin, the last thing you want to do is move that leg. But, you have to, or it will heal wrong. The whole point of the surgeries, for me, wasn't pain relief, like it might be with someone older. It was restoring proper movement and function of the knees. Regardless of how much I didn't want to move my knees, I had to.

Good thing I was motivated, because some of those exercises are excruciating, especially at first. One thing we did on the first one that we didn't do on the second one was strap a weight to my ankle, have me lay on my stomach, and hang my leg off the end of a table for ten minutes or so, to straighten those bent up tendons. The physical therapist gave me a magazine to read to distract me, but nothing totally takes your mind off of that kind of pain. YEOW!

First surgery, I had to go to a physical therapy center three times a week. Second surgery, a physical therapist was sent to my house three times a week. Guess which one I liked better?

Blood Thinners

You have to take blood thinners for two weeks after that kind of surgery to prevent blood clots. First surgery, they gave me pills, and I had to haul my exhausted, pain-med-hazed self to the doctor twice a week for blood monitoring. Second surgery, I just injected myself in the abdomen with a blood thinner once a day, and didn't have to go get any monitoring at all. Guess which one I preferred, again?

Get Well Soon....and I Did!

The good news is, I recovered really quickly both times. I was told it's because I'm young and heal faster than an elderly person. I only used a walker the first day home both times, and only used a cane for the first couple of weeks. By the third week, both times, I was driving again, when I'd been told it would take eight to ten weeks for my legs to heal enough to do that kind of thing.

I was off all pain meds after two weeks (though I did taper down from the Percocet for an additional two weeks after the second surgery, not because I needed the med for the pain, but because I'd kind of started to become REALLY fond of it, which was not what I wanted). By the time the month anniversary of each surgery came around, you wouldn't know I even had them, unless you looked at my legs.

I regained my straight, strong legs, my ability to walk normally, to stand for long periods, and even to dance a little bit. I can even still do some yoga!

Here Be Scars, Matey

After the first surgery, I was kind of self-conscious about the blaringly obvious scar on the front of my leg. On a trip to Woodstock, NY (one of my favorite places) the next year, I wore shorts for the first time since the surgery....a big step for me. A fellow customer at a vegetarian restaurant there heard me talking to my friend about how weird I felt about showing off that scar in public. He told me he thought scars were beautiful, because they all told a powerful and awesome story.

I never felt shy about showing off the scars after that. Thanks, kindly hippie guy whose name I don't know, wherever you are. You made a difference in my attitude.

Conclusion

I don't actually know anyone else my age who has had both knees replaced, or even one knee replaced. As a teenager, before I got arthritis, one of my cousins married a woman in her 30's with two knee replacements.....they actually met in physical therapy, where he was after fracturing his neck in an accident. I also had a friend, who sadly died at the age of only 28, who had one knee replaced when she was 14. Her mom sent me a care package full of all the goodies she enjoyed when recovering from a surgery after I had my first one.

But, as of right now, I'm the only one my age I know with two titanium knees. But, it doesn't matter. What matters is that I felt more of an outcast, more strange, more conspicuous, and more self-conscious about my weird walking and standing BEFORE I had my knees replaced. With the new knees, I feel like a normal person again, and I look and move like one.

Even though knee replacements only last about 20 years on average, which probably means I'm looking at two or three more times of doing this, at least, I wouldn't change a thing. Those new knees are the best things I could have done for myself, and I'm happy to have them.

And, throughout everything, I did it all MY way. What more can you ask when making such a drastic body modification?

Both my knees today, scars and all. You can even see where the staples were. Showing them off proudly!