"You're not nineteen anymore."

Those four words hit me pretty hard when I was talking with my knee surgeon before we actually put me under the knife. We were speaking about the recovery time I was going to have after he put all those holes in my knee and cut out all the bad stuff. Pictures, in case you wanted to take another gander at them, are available here.

And yes, he was right, I am not 19 anymore, and it took me longer than I thought to recover(I still cannot kneel, and it's been almost 9 months), even PT lasted longer than we thought it would, but I'm much, much better.

Today's recovery comes from Saturday's night out, where I wound up not going to sleep until 5, when I had to wake up at 8 so I could go to work. Oops. Yesterday I was just plain exhausted. In the olden golden days I could do that, but I was working at Tower, not exactly a mental challenge, so it wasn't a big deal that I operated on next to no sleep. It was a favorite game of ours, actually, to see which supervisor would show up on time when we were all out drinking the night before. Ah, good times.

So, last night I went to bed at 10:15, hoping to get the 6 hours of sleep I know I needed so bad. Mission accomplished, but I'm still exhausted. As it stands, I have a sleep debt so large, I'll be dead for 15 years before I make up for it. At least, that's my guestimation.

Point taken, doc. I am not 19 anymore.