ACL Diary: Let’s Get Physical

When Willow started driving, no one was happier about it than I. Primarily it meant that after 11 years, I no longer had to drive a carpool filled with smelly shin guards and crusty socks to and from soccer practice.

A month later she tore her ACL, and after surgery, I was back to being her chauffeur. I wasn’t taking her to soccer practice twice a week, however. I was taking her to physical therapy.

We chose John Woolf of ProActive Physical Therapy, as he came highly recommended by our surgeon, Dr. Tucker, as well as by trusted and knowledgeable friends.

“Talk to my husband,” said my good pal and fellow soccer mom, Stephanie Hunley, when I asked her if she had a therapist to recommend. “He’s got people.”

LaMonte Hunley, one of the men who carried Willow off the field on that dreadful day, is a low-key, yet loyal soccer dad. A former NFL player with the Indianapolis Colts and a U of A Wildcat, he doesn’t say much to or about the girls and the game, but when he does make a comment, in my never-humble opinion, he’s always spot on with his observations.

 

LaMonte Hunley

In addition to LaMonte’s credentials as a professional athlete, he’s an active businessman in the Tucson community. As co-owner of Arizona Health, which specializes in residential and commercial exercise equipment, he definitely knows people. So, when it came time to pick a local physical therapist for Willow’s immediate needs, without hesitation, I went to LaMonte.

“Woolf,” he said, almost like a bark.

“Did you say wolf? Like the canis species? A howling, doglike wolf?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” said LaMonte. “He’s the one. Used to be the trainer at the U of A.”

I immediately looked up Mr. Woolf and discovered he’s the former Director of Sports Medicine for The University of Arizona where he coordinated rehabilitation and medical coverage for division I athletes. Today he is the owner of ProActive Physical Therapy, located about a half hour from our eastside home. And it turned out, he was available to see Willow twice a week for the remainder of her time in Tucson this Spring.

John Woolf

Prior to meeting him, Willow’s friend, Anna, a teammate who has been back on the soccer field for over a year after ACL reconstruction surgery, told her that John was her physical therapist, too. And she said in no uncertain terms that he was “the best.”

“He deals with what’s up here,” she said pointing to her temple,” As well as what’s down here.” And she pointed to her knee.

I didn’t fully grasp what Anna meant until I watched John in action. My view from a very different sideline made me believe from the first session that we had chosen the right physical therapist for Willow. He not only brings excellent credentials and experience to the rehab table, but he’s also the father of a teenage girl.

“What color is the pain?” he asked Willow. “And what shape does it have?” As he worked with her knee, he asked a series of questions like this that obviously had a positive affect on Willow. Nevertheless, I think he had her at hello.

And so, I adjusted my driving route and my routine, and found that being at physical therapy during those first few sessions wasn’t that much different than being at soccer practice. My daughter was involved in an activity while I engaged in conversation with one of my long-time friends and fellow soccer mom, whose daughter was also working out with her therapist after ACL reconstruction surgery. (In the circle in which we travel, ACL tears are a BIG injury in a SMALL town).

I had only just begun to grasp the depth of the emotional impact of this injury, and will write more about that soon. But after a little more than two weeks post-op, when Willow begged me to let her drive again, I was nervous about letting her and therefore, reluctant. 


Ultimately I hoped that in conjunction with the physical therapy, a little motor vehicle therapy might go a long way in healing her hurt that day. Therefore, I handed her the keys and watched as her face lit up with a smile I hadn’t seen in a very long time.

“Score!” she said and practically skipped out the door.

ACL Diary: The Immediate Aftermath

A Hundred Phone Calls

Willow and I sat for about an hour in the Urgent Care waiting room on the Saturday afternoon she went down, and our dear friend, Mike Smith—my sometimes second (soccer) husband—brought Willow a burger and a chocolate shake. It turns out that it was the most food she’d eat for the next several weeks. The minute she started taking painkillers, she booted her food and lost her appetite.

Urgent Care can only do so much, especially on a Saturday when doctors aren’t on staff. A kind nurse named “Jim-bo” saw to her x-rays and put it in writing that there were no broken bones, and that he suspected an ACL tear. He didn’t know that an explanation of the injury wasn’t necessary, but—bless his heart—he told us a lot of things we didn’t really care to hear.

The minute we got home, the phone calls began. This means I both made them and answered them. I didn’t cry until I spoke with my pal Stephanie Hunley, who it might be fair to call my soccer wife. Actually, she’s that soccer mom—that best friend—we soccer moms make when our kids are so involved with a team that it practically takes over our lives. We have vested interests in each other’s kids, and love them like our own. We understand our kids’ health and the way they perform on the field has a direct impact on the success of the team.

“Can I lose it now?” I asked her.

“Go right ahead,” she said, and allowed me to talk through my fear and my tears.

It was a momentary, necessary lapse, and once I got it out of my system, I went into research mode. I needed to figure out HOW we were going to handle this injury.

One of the first calls I made was to my friend, Gillian Borden, because we go to the same church and I wanted her to get Willow on the Sunday morning prayer list. (I knew we needed all the strength-to-get-through-this power we could get, and for me, this is what prayer is all about.) I had forgotten that Gillian is married to a physical therapist and had a lot of information about local, reputable orthopaedic surgeons. Additionally, she lives across the street from my former soccer wife/soccer mom and co-manager of a club team, whose daughter also suffered an ACL tear back in October. I scribbled furiously as Gillian provided names of surgeons and other necessary information. She was my angel and Gillian, please know how grateful I am to you.

The next day, Sunday, Willow and I drove to Casa Grande to watch her teammates win their second State Cup Game. Although they were now in the loser’s bracket, it’s a double-elimination tournament and all was not lost with the first game the day before. Meantime, soccer mom, Maureen Shields, gave us a handicap parking tag for our car so we could park right next to the field and she allowed me to cry on her shoulder before the game.

Willow didn’t cry until after the game—until she realized how hard it would be to sit on the sideline and watch rather than be out there contributing.

In spite of the victory, it was a long ride home.