Columnist Muriel Stevens: Therapy and persistence pave the road to recovery

Tuesday, Sept. 16, 1997 | 11:32 a.m.

THREE WEEKS AFTER knee surgery, there is a small light at the end of the tunnel. The road back to full use of the repaired knee is slow, requiring patience and diligence on my part, but it is happening.

I have a new best friend, physical therapist Jeff Deets, who guides my recovery each step of the way. Deets, a top-notch member of his profession, specializes in sports medicine and rehabilitation at the Columbia Sunrise Health Strategies rehab center on La Canada. He is the clinical manager. He is young, gifted and articulate.

The program we work on together is redefined each time new exercises and therapies are added. There are no secrets, no unanswered questions. It is Deets' responsibility to show me the way; mine is to follow it. Each time we meet, new exercises and therapies are added that will increase the range of motion. It is tedious and tiring, yet, at the same time, exhilarating. Best of all, Deets answers my many questions. I now know and understand all about the mechanics of knees and how exercise affects them.

When we first started to work together, Deets told me not to fret. The pain and the frustration were normal. He also explained that intense therapy periods with rest days in between were more important than light sessions every day. Resting is key to recovery.

After surgery of any kind, the body marshals all its forces to the site of the surgery for healing. Finding the right balance of rest and exercise takes a while, but the therapist continually encourages and informs me, even as he leads me through new techniques. He stretches my limits with each new exercise and, while I grumble and accuse him of being a torturer as terrible as any in history, I strive to fulfill his expectations. He is encouraging, kind and tough.

He is also honest. Doctors fudge about how long the pain will last and the actual time of recovery. The truth is, they just don't know. Each patient is different. Each needs the personalized attention of a good physical therapist, who can assess one's strengths and weaknesses realistically.

It also helps to have others share their own experiences. One reader, Helen Hall, had both knees replaced just one year apart. The mere thought is painful. She and her husband enjoy ballroom dancing. Before surgery, she was unable to perform. Now, just a few years later, she is once again at the top of her form. I'm already learning that what Hall shared is true: There are no short cuts to success, the pain does eventually go away, and then it's wonderful.

I haven't reached the "wonderful" stage yet, but I'm learning to make my way back and relearning such simple things as walking upstairs. This week, I will return to the office instead of working at home. It will be a challenge. My office is on the second floor, but I'm still at the first-floor level of recovery. It will be a few more weeks before I attempt the climb. Until then, I'll be dependent on the kindness of my colleagues. One is sharing his first-floor office with me -- this in spite of knowing what my own book-filled, cluttered space looks like. I'll have to be on my best behavior.

Other friends and colleagues have driven me to therapy sessions, brought in dinners and been there when needed. Having a good support group is key to recovery. So is laughter. The Comedy Channel and books by Woody Allen have kept me amused and entertained. So have telephone calls, cards and flowers. My thanks to everyone for the remembrances and good thoughts. One day soon I hope to be able to sit long enough to acknowledge them all.

Also this week, I'm hoping to resume a limited social schedule. I missed the opening of the new section of the Forum Shops at Caesars and NICA's gala dinner and auction at the Rio, but there are many more to come. Thanks to my friend Jeff Deets, I am now planning ahead.

Traveling just became a little more interesting. I now have a gold card, issued by my doctor, that informs airport security that the metal in my knee may set off the alarm. My last X-rays gave me a clear view of the long metal screw that runs from the top of the prosthesis down through a good portion of the shin. The medical gold card is surely one I won't leave home without.

I'll test my knee and the gold card in a few months when I travel to Italy. There, in the foothills of Siena, I'll challenge the new knee and the lessons I've learned after such a simple thing as knee surgery.