ACL Recovery Week 1 - The Reverse of Tokyo Tower

On June 22, 2025, I was playing badminton against two fine young men. It was a good match, emotions were high, and it was obvious that all four of us were enjoying the game. Suddenly, I fell, there was a pain in my knee that I had never experienced before, and I could not get up. I tore my ACL completely.

Time flies, I had my surgery completed last Monday.

It was the first time I was anesthetized entirely, literally an out-of-body experience. Early in the morning, I was pushed to the surgery room by an old man. Looking at the ceiling, I could not help but note the irony of being pushed around by the gentleman, who was obviously walking much better than I was. When I arrived, the surgeon was not ready yet, so the nurses were chatting casually. One of them showed me a picture of her daughter playing badminton, after learning about the cause of my injury. While I was still thinking of a polite reply, a busy-looking anesthesiologist rushed in and said, "Now, we are going to put you to sleep on a count of three. 3, 2, 1..."

"Mr. Tan, how are you feeling?" was the first thing I heard two hours later. I saw my wife and was pushed back to my ward by the same old man. Before the surgery, the surgeon told me that he would apply blockers to the pain receptors inside my knee. Still, I felt quite painful, so I thought the anesthetic had already worn off. The pain was bearable, which was good. A few hours later, I realized how wrong I was. I could not pinpoint the pain and describe it with my limited vocabulary. All I knew was that I was breathing heavily because of the pain. The pain was so intense that it was almost impossible for me to stand up and go to the toilet. The only movement I was able to make comfortably was pressing the button on the electric bed to adjust the angle at which I was lying. One could be too painful to move.

I took all the pain medications offered by the nurse, and my wife attended to every need I had. I dozed on and off, made it through the night, and soon I was released from the hospital and went to my parents' home, which had an elevator. (Otherwise, I would need to walk up to the 4th floor in the apartment where I live.)

During the first week, I focused on reducing swelling and pain. The surgeon, a charming, energetic, retired professor (my guess is that retirement is less fun than opening patients' knees up, so he returned), prescribed a 0-degree flexion and extension for the first two weeks. In simpler terms, I was not encouraged to bend my knees. Therefore, I was always wearing a brace that prevents my knee from bending, even when I was asleep. With all the heat and sweat, that was not a pleasant experience.

Well, enough of the complaints.

Many things went incredibly well in this first week, actually. First of all, the surgery was successful (at least I woke, which was a good start). It was bureaucracy at its best. Each department, including the Taiwan health insurance system, the hospital's admission office, the nurses, the anesthesiologist, and the surgeon, all did their part to complete this surgery and provided me with the best care an institution could offer. Bureaucracy is not always Kafkaesque.

Speaking of the care that I receive, my wife and my parents are doing everything to take care of me. When I was staying at my parents’ home, it almost seemed as if the clock had been wound back to my childhood. They are preparing real food for me every meal. Whenever I need something, they just grab it for me. Now in my thirties and my parents in their sixties, I imagined myself as their caretaker, at least before this injury. After the injury, it was like the reverse of the Japanese fiction Tokyo Tower by Lily Franky, and once again, my parents are taking care of every need of mine.

My wife is driving me around from the hospital, physical therapist, taking me out for fresh air, and bringing the dogs back and forth to visit me, in addition to her usual work and taking care of two dogs alone. She even helped me with my shower.

Being completely helpless, vulnerable, and in the position of a care-receiver is not easy, but it would be hundreds of times more difficult if no one were here to care for me. I am a lucky man. I also hope that when the time inevitably comes that I need to be the caregiver, I will do as good a job as them.

Another thing I am grateful for is my body and mind, despite the newly constructed and fragile ligament in my knee. I am able to read, think, and write during this time. I learnt on the first day of my surgery, you could actually be in too much pain that your head is completely muddled, and you could think of nothing other than the pain.

Every morning, my mum does a little walk with me, and I am able to walk a little bit more each day with the assistance of walking sticks. I was also able to do some simple upper-body exercises. Fixing one ligament could paralyze me for weeks and take years of recovery. But countless cells, muscles, and organs are keeping me alive and active every day. Again, I am grateful for the body I have and intend to make the best use of it.

In the last few years, I read quite a few books about Stoicism and Buddhism. They all point to the same ideas. You cannot control fate, and you can only try your best to manage your mind and consciousness. People with a fear of losing and suffering will lose desire to eat, drink, or sleep, but when what you fear most happens, people can often enjoy life as much as anyone else. Therefore, worry less and live more. Unfortunately, there is only so much you can learn intellectually by reading. I see this accident as a lesson from the Universe to ingrain these lessons emotionally.

If you look on YouTube, there are thousands of videos of people from all walks of life sharing their recovery progress. We live in a strange age where we can never consume all the available information. So, why am I still writing about this to add to the pile of never-ending information? I wish to record this interesting chapter of my life, jot down the journey of recovery, and the results of all the collisions of ideas from all the books and movies I read and watch during this period (if you are jobless and cannot go out for sports, you really have a lot of time on your hands). This may be of use, or at least interesting, to someone (most likely myself) else in the future. 

Looking back, not that far ago (one week to be exact), I have gone a long way. More to come.