OCR Text |
Show B-8 O'Shuck itt Utah. x y x 7 ? , s r r , , x 4 v , ; , r o r You don't know Open 365 days a year i Grill always opent Patio now open Across from Main St. Post Office 427 main ? fax 645.8969Tel. 645.3999 Our Two-Speed Pius air m Fhrfh-n Regardless of who wins the game! Steve Chin and Dena Fleming are BULLISH on Real Estate in Park City. If you're going to take TIME OUT to check out our real estate market, give us a call - we're NBA (Nice, Bright and Articulate) Champions ourselves. We've been at this game for over 20 years so we'll spare you Steve Chin 647-8035 4 Prudential Coleman Saddleview Office Park 2200 Park Avenue Bid". B n c m b c a s u r l v Park City till you experience O'Shucks. o e a N u T r P r conditioner saves you up to 60 ?K CITY, UTA, ""T iwm ii miinii mi mmm HAPPY BIRTHDAY J U LI ETTA DON'T BE TEE'D the DRIBBLE... Dena Fleming 647-8031 Real Estate The Park Record to isnikiu on your energy bills. ACROSS 1. THE HOAAE STREET 2. NEVER BEEN TO A 3. MICHIGAN SHAPE 4. FLIGHT ENGINEER 5 BIRTHDAY DINNER 6 DRIVES SIMILAR TO DOWN 1. THE MOST REGAL DOG 2. A FAVORITE THISTLE 3. TO RUN FROM ROOK S& TEACHERS 4. SOUTH OF THE BORDER DOG 5. HAPPY BIRTHDAY JEWEL. FROM ALL YOUR OFF!! "Please give us a call for a personal lour of our great town. Or, if you don l have time during the Playoff weekend, call us for our personal guide of everything you need to know about Park City" Call us toll free at (800) 390-6105 The road to recovery Kathleen Shorr's first-hand account of recovering from a torn anterior cruciate cru-ciate ligament suffered while skiing by Kathleen Shorr RECORD GUEST WRITER Spaulding Gray and I learned to ski al about the same ace. Two years later, getting off the chair-lift, chair-lift, a friend stepped on my ski and 1 went down backwards, slowly, in the certain knowledge that I wasn't designed to bend this way. The pain in my right knee was horrendous, and then it went away. There was no popping pop-ping sound. The ski patrol helped me hobble oil to put snow on my knee and hall an hour later I skied down. Two days later I danced for three hours working on a new piece of choreography. My knee was definitely NOT happy alter rehearsal and when it became clear that it wasn't getting better, which seemed very odd. I made an appointment with our family doctor. He pulled on my knees, hunting for a "tlmnk" sound, which my right knee could not produce. When he explained that the lack of "(hunk" meant that I had severed my anterior cruciate ligament. I almost fell off the table. In shock I said "Oh sh..." He said "Exactly." Then the surgeon tried to talk me out having it fixed. It takes a year for the graft to heal, six to nine months to regain your original origi-nal strength. He told me all about his wife who blew out her ACL. refused surgery and now plays tennis, skis. etc. etc. It seems she is not alone. Lots of people, it seems, particularly women, choose not to have the surgery. I could do that easily. I was totally comfortable as long as I was moving forward or backward. back-ward. But. every doc tor I spoke to said, "you will have to remember forever only to move forward and backward, to avoid damaging your cartilage, which could eventually result in knee replacement surgery." Oh my god. how could I ever remember only to move forward and backward? I would forget! And besides, it would be unspeakably boring. It took me less time than it takes to write this to decide. So they built me a new anterior anteri-or cruciate ligament out of one of my hamstrings. I woke up. throwing throw-ing up. and through the anesthetic anesthet-ic fog I saw my husband Greg standing over me. head to head w ith a Valkyrie of a nurse. "Time to take her home. We're closing." clos-ing." she thundered. "I'm not taking her home like this. ' he replied, taking a lonely stand against the K-Martiation of hospital hos-pital care. "Well, she can't stay here!" the Valkyrie hissed. Eventually they gave me a shot that was supposed to quell my stomach for 45 minutes so Greg could get me up the canyon to Park City. And then I proceeded to throw up for 36 hours. A month earlier, on the day I first got the diagnosis. I got home and there was nobody there. The kids were in school, my husband was out of town for the week. In a frazzle I called a friend who two years ago had severed not just one. but all of the ligaments in her knee and is now back to perfect. "Go to Peie." she said. "He'll know just what to do." So I did. Pete is Pete Dickinson of Performance Physical Therapy and the physical physi-cal therapist for the U.S. Ski Team. He started out with an undergraduate degree in psychology, psychol-ogy, worked at Outward Bound SCOTT SINEPARK RECORD A common sight in Park City: Performance Physical Therapy's Peter Dickinson's hands at work. and The National Outdoor Leadership School and then in an outdoor program for people with disabilities. Il became clear to him that a masters degree in physical therapy was a way to combine interests. His partner is Laurie Savage -Wing, who used to head the physical therapy program pro-gram for total hip replacement patients at LDS hospital. Their patients are everyone from Olympians to Park City Ski Team members to med techs, talent tal-ent agents and modem cowboys, and their care is meticulously indiv iduahed. Pete is epiiet. unassuming, and seems to have more antennae than the rest of us. He savs "we feel so fortunate to be doing rehab up here. People in Park City are very passionate about their health and we hope we can respond in kind to that passion. 'They don't leach that stuff in school. When we pick our staff we look for 'diamonds.' people who are secure, positive, happy, caring, and can help patients weather the frustrations and ups and downs of rehab. We follow the Golden Rule and feel very fortunate to be working with people in a positive way. helping them reach their goals. These sorts of injuries are significant events in people's lives. These injures change everything. But this is a good place to be look around, everybody's getting better." This is what the rehab was like. March 17 office is on Pete' the second floor, with v iews of the mountains on all four sides. I maneu-ver maneu-ver myself in the door on c r u i c n strapped my huge, emiinc-red e s . into dial bedecked fire brace. This brace has so much personality that I've named il George. Lour davs worth of various legal drugs are churning through my system and with George encasing a good quarter of my body I feel like C.iPO's grandmother. Absolutely everyone has warned me how horribly long and painful this rehab is going to he. I'm expecting physical therapy thera-py to be of the "up-against-the-wall-and-bite-on-this-sock" v ari-ety. ari-ety. Being a wimp by nature I've managed to shape myself into a posture that has "cringe" written all over it. But today what really happens are measurements with an instrument called a goniometer goniome-ter (for measuring gonies?) and gentle exercises. My terrors so far are unfounded. March 21 Not a great day. The medications have turned me into a queasy dormouse. My two favorite activities are now 1 ) napping nap-ping and 2) trying not to throw up. Happily Kari. who has been assigned to get me up and run 1 ..aHMtft 'IS'J Saturday, June 7,1997 ning, lets me snooze on the table and sends me home early. March 24 For a few minutes they take away my crutches! I cruise around with only George holding me up. There are cheers as I toddle across the floor, arms out for balance. I probably look like a robotic bear but inside it feels like flying. Bike riding however, is a startlingly new experience. Even with the seat perched at the highest point it is a struggle to get the pedal over the top. That night, stiffening up and unable to reach my crutches I forget and put weight on the hurt leg. The knee goes out and I end up in a heap on the floor. March 26 I awake to find my ice pack has melted into my sneakers, totally soaking the only shoes I dare wear. But the good part is that I feel like a magician's magi-cian's assistant my props keep "disappearing" into thin air. First my crutches, now George. With Pete and Kari coaxing I cruise right out of my brace, amazed that I am still upright, that this is actually possible. There are more cheers. I feet lighter in every way. but am told to retrieve George from his corner behind the sofa if I'm ever in crowds. No doubt his presence will create a swath wherever I go. "Homework" has taken on a whole new meaning. I have suddenly dedicated my entire existence to healing one knee. Everything I do is defined by this goal. In addition to nine hours a week of physical therapy, recovery recov-ery requires 60 repetitions of eight different exercises, three times a day. seven days a week. And each of the three times has to be followed by finding a "com-lortable" "com-lortable" position with that knee up in the air, topped with a bag of froen green beans. March 27 Now I've recovered enough to start worrying. wor-rying. Our health insurance will pay for two months of physical therapy, but after two weeks I don't have enough flexion to manage even one stair. Very scary. How did I used to dance? I can't even remember anymore, probably because it didn't hurt. March 31 I get a new exercise this morning. A large ball goes between my back and the wall. A heavy ball goes in between my knees. Now I'm supposed to roll Ball A up and down the wall without dropping Ball B. Do you think I could have a few oranges to juggle and maybe a kazoo to play, just to completely finish me off? April 1 Is this what it's like to be a 'jock? Constantly trying to beat your own last record? If it is. I don't think I want to be one. It feels like there's been a mass exodus of brain cells since the surgery and what I REALLY should be doing is learning Urdu or organic chemistry to try and keep the remaining few. After about the third day of rehab I stopped counting my exercise reps, again, in the interest of preserving brain cells. Instead I use what Karl calls my "rosary" a set of sandalwood beads. I lock my thumb and my knee into the same mental cog and then the rest of my brain can go to the beach. April 3 Aargh. Why is my knee the size of a cantaloupe this morning? And how can such a minor event appear so grim and discouraging? But by afternoon, surprise! I can not only go upstairs, fairly easily, but downstairs down-stairs as well! With alternate feet, no less. There is hope after all. I |