Navigating Pain, a Torn Tendon, and a Plan for Healing
“Healing doesn’t mean the damage never existed. It means the damage no longer controls our lives.” - Akshay Dubey
Our bodies are miraculous things that often keep up with us. However, there are occasional hiccups when our bodies run a few steps ahead of us and all we can do is play catch-up.
In a few days—on February 18th to be exact—I will undergo surgery on my right elbow where an MRI discovered two torn tendons: a full tear and a partial tear.
This discovery was 18 months in the making. In the summer of 2023, I started feeling on-and-off soreness in and around my elbow. At first, I chalked it up to sleeping on it wrong or straining it during a yoga session.
I knew something was wrong when I found mundane activities like picking up a full glass of water with my right hand difficult. Not just difficult. Painful.
Anytime I gripped an object with my right hand—even simply making a fist—it caused lightning bolts of pain to render my elbow useless. I couldn’t even straighten my arm without that same, oftentimes, worsening pain.
It was time to see my doctor.
I booked an appointment with my orthopedist, who confirmed it was tennis elbow. Treatment began with a small armband that I’d wear for six weeks.
“If it still hurts after six weeks, come back,” he said.
Ten weeks later, I was back in his office. This time, I said, the pain was constant. We tried a cortisone shot, a treatment I had received once before for my wrist with lasting results. Perhaps this would do the trick.
Finally, sweet relief. I could move and straighten my arm again. There was no pain when I picked up stuff or went into a plank during yoga. It felt amazing.
About a month and a half later, I woke up with the pain again. It was as if the last few weeks had been a dream. This time I didn’t hesitate. I made another appointment.
“That shot didn’t even last three months,” he said, reviewing my chart. “That’s not good.”
Three of the worst words you don’t want coming out of your doctor’s mouth.
“Okay,” he went on. “Let’s try a different brace for a month and then we’ll take it from there.”
Another brace, another month of pain.
With the usual treatments not working, our next plan of attack was to get an MRI.
“The results will help us plan our next strategy,” he said.
Two options were pending the MRI results:
An inflamed tendon would mean physical therapy.
A torn tendon would mean surgery.
As you know from the beginning of this piece—as well as the title—it turned out to be a tear and surgery is next on the table.
I walked into that appointment—with my mom as moral support—feeling pretty confident it was a tear. Still, there was always the chance it was an inflamed tendon. But too many symptoms pointed to it being a tear and I was mentally prepared to hear the “surgery” during that visit.
"Is she freaking out?" my sister asked my mom when she shared the news.
"No," Mom replied. "She was actually quite calm. I think she knew it was going to be surgery."
She was right. While waiting for the appointment to hear the results, I did some reading—not the best thing, I know, but I read reputable sources—and they all claimed the same thing. If tennis elbow does not get better with typical treatments like the ones my doctor and I tried, it's more than likely a tear, and surgery is the answer.
Before I decided, my doctor offered a second option: a less invasive procedure that uses electric shocks to encourage the tendon to repair itself.
"It has an 80 percent success rate," he said. “And it takes some time for the tendon to heal itself.”
My doctor, the annotating nurse, and my mom all looked at me while I considered the two options.
"What happens if the tendon doesn't grow back?" I asked.
"Then we'd have to do surgery regardless."
That settled it. Why prolong the pain when I had been dealing with it for 18 months?
“I just want the pain gone,” I said.
“Then surgery is your best bet,” he replied.
This will be my first surgery and I'm rightfully nervous. My mom has had a few and is providing all the necessary insights and information I'd need. Right now, though, my mind is in preparation mode.
My last day of work will be February 14th and my 12-week temporary disability will begin on Monday, February 17th, with the surgery scheduled for February 18th.
The moment I realized it'd be surgery, my Type A personality went straight into, "What do we need to do before then?" mode. I immediately started making two to-do lists: one for work and one for home.
It might seem silly that my instinct is to get things done. On my list are tasks such as cleaning my bathroom, washing sheets and towels, and scheduling a Vietnam Veterans of America donation pickup, but all of this gives me peace of mind.
Even at work, my task list is hefty, wanting to leave my team with as much done, prepped, and ready to go, so they're not taking on unnecessary amounts of work in my absence.
Don't get me wrong, I'm also making a list of shows/movies I plan on watching, adding books to my Kindle, and buying some physical copies that I've had my eye on for a while. I fully intend to rest and recover, taking this time to let the wound heal. It is my dominant arm after all, so recovery is crucial.
I also plan on writing as much as I can with one arm.
The schedule, per my doctor, goes like this:
In the first 3-4 weeks, I’ll be the most immobile, most likely in a splint/sling.
For the next 3-4 weeks, I’ll be in a brace where I can start introducing more movement.
Finally, we’ll begin physical therapy to strengthen the area back up.
It’s funny when I think about all the things I do with two hands. Wash my face, put my hair in a ponytail, cut my food, drive.
Many of these activities, apart from driving because I can't do that for the first 3 to 4 weeks, are going to change. I'm lucky enough to live with people who can help me, but for the better part of the day, I'll be chilling in bed with enough stuff to keep me occupied.
I seem pretty nonchalant about it, though I'm aware of the risks. Even a minor surgery like this carries risks. Still, my goal and hope is finally to be pain-free.
The days leading up will test my nerves, and I will allow myself to feel all of it. Then I will give myself the time to heal, rest, and prepare for the rest of 2025.
Until next time, I hope this serves as a reminder to listen to your body. When things don’t feel right, don’t wait. See your doctor, get that check-up, and do whatever you must to ensure you are in good working order. Because all it takes is one thing to upend your daily routine, and by then, it might be too late.
Let's not end on that morbid note. Simply put, make sure you stick with appointments and never hesitate to have something looked at. Your health must be your top priority. It’s the only way you’ll be your best self for your family, friends, self, and the world.
I'll see you on the other side of this surgery, my friend, with I'm sure a story of the day itself.
Have you ever had surgery? Got any tips you can share with me before then?
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Despite the uncertainty of certain social media platforms, I'm still on Instagram. I have since joined Bluesky, but haven’t posted much.