When COVID hit, my health was already on shaky ground. Isolation became my norm, and—unsurprisingly—my overall wellbeing declined. Eventually, I got some much-needed medical answers and began to improve. But by then, my physical abilities had deteriorated, and I felt defeated. I knew I had to make a choice about how I wanted to spend the rest of my “prime time” years—and continuing down the current path wasn’t it.

Nearly three years ago, I committed to building a better life—through determination, hard work, faith, and support from others. Things began to turn around… until worsening knee pain threw a major wrench in my progress. The pain was relentless. Activities that once brought relief became impossible. “Get a knee replacement,” they said. But I had promised myself—no more surgeries.

So, Plans B, C, and beyond were born. I tried physical therapy, steroid injections, nerve blockers—anything to avoid going under the knife. Despite my best efforts, the pain continued to grow. The one medication that helped was discontinued due to a health complication, leaving me hobbling along.

Then came an incredible opportunity: a trip to Hawaii with my daughter. The experience was unforgettable, but long plane rides and extra walking took a heavy toll. By the time we returned home, I could barely walk. I hoped rest would help, but the recovery never came.

In December, I finally made an appointment with a surgeon. The verdict: both knees needed replacing. It was a tough call, but ultimately the right one. Because of high local demand, I had a few months to prepare. I committed to being in the best shape possible—physically, mentally, and spiritually. I doubled my training sessions with Tina Fraley, attended weekly chair yoga at Power House Studio with Olivia Nystrom, focused on losing weight, and added Reiki sessions with Libby Palumbo to my meditation practice.

On March 24, I headed to the surgical center in the best condition I’d been in for years. The surgery went smoothly, and by 3:30 PM, I was home and relatively pain-free (thanks to medication!). I used an ice machine loaned to me by a generous PTFW member—it helped tremendously. The next day, I started using the RomTech machine, partially covered by insurance/Medicare. I began with three sessions a day, gradually increasing to five, working up to 17 minutes each. The delivery rep advised I use it first thing in the morning for stiffness and even in the middle of the night if pain kept me up. That counterintuitive tip worked wonders.

The first two weeks were awkward—me and my walker clumsily made do. At my two-week checkup, the surgeon was pleased with my healing and cleared me to use a cane. I was thrilled with the progress. But the next afternoon, things took a sudden turn. My leg stiffened, and the pain escalated. I collapsed into a chair, overwhelmed. I called the surgeon’s office to rule out a blood clot—thankfully, there wasn’t one. They prescribed a muscle relaxer and restarted pain meds, and by the next day, I was improving. The tourniquet used during surgery may have caused temporary nerve damage, though the delayed flare-up remains a mystery. It was a setback—and for a moment, I questioned everything.

The good news? That rough patch passed quickly. Recovery resumed. Three weeks after surgery, I began in-person physical therapy. I was impatient, but PT went well. Now, about three months post-op, I’m thriving. I can walk freely and do most activities. I even attended a Flying Boxcars game and climbed stadium steps with ease. I’m back in the gym and deepening my yoga practice. And yes—I’ve even dipped a toe into golf!

In June, I was one of eight lucky women to join Prime Time for Women’s Putt & Pitch Golf Clinic for Beginner Golfers… and I’m officially hooked. I’m excited to join PTFW’s Connections Over Competition Golf League this fall!

Like many knee replacement patients, I’m grateful I went through with it—and I’m seriously considering surgery for the other knee. If arthritis (bone-on-bone) is making your knees miserable, I highly recommend seeing an orthopedist and exploring your options.

Here’s to walking, bending, and moving in all kinds of joyful ways.