Bounce Back Better: A Dad's Holistic Guide to Recovering from Surgery

Hey there, strap in for the first-ever edition of Briando’s Newsletter. I’ll be diving into the nitty-gritty of tackling life's unexpected uppercuts without pulling any punches. 

My name is Brian Downer. I’m a GenX papapreneur musing on the winding path to the Good Life and how new tech can help along the way.

When you start a newsletter, they say you have to “pick a niche”. This has been a source of unending torment for many newsletter newbies (including me).

Well, like the esteemed and recently departed wellspring of knowledge Charlie Munger always used to say:

Truth be told, I’m the niche. I’ll be writing this newsletter as a nudge to myself but also in the belief that there are other discerning dads out there who I’ll be able to bring some value to.

If you’re a savvy dad (or know of one) interested in any of the following, we have something in common:

• Pivoting to survive and thrive in the future of work 

• Raising resilient, independent kids

• Staying healthy and strong

• Lifelong learning 

• Figuring out how to truly prosper despite the slings and arrows life sends our way 

This Week’s Newsletter

Whether you’re juggling dad duties, running a business, or navigating the corporate world, you know life doesn't always play fair. 

I’m here to talk about one of those curveballs - a knee surgery that took me on a wild ride from the operating table in Portugal where I now live along the path of a tough recovery that I’m still working through.

I’m a child of the 70s, went to school in the 80s and 90s and grew up with heroes like Carl Lewis, Mike Powell and Daley Thompson.

When I managed to win a senior England vest at 18 in the Long Jump, it was like a dream come true. I lived for the adrenaline rush of flying through the air and sticking those landings in the sandpit. Little did I know, each of those landings was a ticking time bomb for my knee. 

Fast forward through the years, and it wasn’t the thrill of competition but the simple act of lifting my son to bed that sounded the alarm bells.

It was a sharp sudden pain, accompanied by a collapsing sensation. Holy smoke! What the hell was that? Fortunately I got junior to bed safely. I shrugged the incident off as a one-off anomaly. 

Hmm, how wrong I was.

This newsletter isn’t your typical sob story or a preachy sermon on the mount. It's the raw, unfiltered account of my slap-down, bounce-back journey through surgery and beyond. 

I’m laying it all out - the good, the bad, and the ugly - hoping you might find something in my saga that resonates, whether you’re facing down your own physical battles, business hurdles, or just the everyday challenges of dad life.

A Rare Combination of Factors

Realizing you need surgery isn’t like waking up one day and deciding you’re going to Disneyland. It’s more like realizing you’ve got no choice but to dive headfirst into a pool of ice-cold water – it’s a shock to the system, but you hope you’ll feel better once you’re out.

For me, the wake-up call wasn’t anything heroic. About a week after the initial incident lifting my son to bed, I felt I had rested up and was back in the gym keeping up with the 20 something young guns in my group circuit class at my local gym in central Porto. 

I recall the exact moment. I was rebounding from a box jump when my knee decided to stage a full-on rebellion. Message received: it was time to get professional help.

Deciding on surgery wasn’t a no-brainer. I was diagnosed with needing a meniscal allograft transplant combined with a femur distal osteotomy – sounds like something out of a sci-fi novel, right? 

According to the doctor, this was a highly rare surgical combination that would require 6 weeks with zero weight on my operated leg following surgery and likely a 1 year recovery period. Yikes!

So What on Earth Went Wrong? 

Basically there’s a crescent shaped piece of shock absorber on the inside of everyone’s knee that helps cushion the impact of landing - a bit like the curly spring on the axle of a 4X4. Mine had pretty much worn away after the years of long jump landings, running and other pounding. 

An arthroscopy (keyhole knee surgery) to stitch together my damaged meniscus in my early 20s had lasted for as long as it could but now the meniscus was completely shot.

But there was more. My upper shin bone also showed signs of damage resulting from the years of operating with a reduced meniscus. The shin and knee joint had gotten a little too up close and personal.

So the second part of the op involved breaking and resetting my tibia by a few millimetres and adding a metal plate to my femur to ensure everything was properly aligned for good weight bearing following the meniscus transplant.  

The risks, the what-ifs, and the thought of being benched from day to day life and business were concerning. Can I afford to hit pause? What’s the game plan for recovery? How’s this going to play out for my family and my business?

Surgery: Go, No-Go 

It didn’t take me long to reach a decision. It boiled down to this: live with the pain and watch life from the side-lines or take the leap towards getting my life back. 

Surgery, with all its uncertainties, was the key to unlocking a future where I wasn’t defined by my limitations. I gave the surgeon the nod to proceed.

Prep time meant getting my head, body, and soul ready for what was to come. In mid December I got a call from my surgeon indicating that an excellent match had been found for my transplant. The date was set for a few days before Christmas. 

Say what? Having experienced the birth of one of my kids in the UK several years earlier just prior to Christmas, I knew this wasn’t an ideal time to be in the hands of a national healthcare service. Tired doctors, half the regular team on vacation, you know what I mean. Fortunately the surgery was delayed until mid January.  

This gave me some time to enjoy the festive season and my daughter’s birthday and  make sure my family was in the loop. The extra few weeks gave me the chance to put some new systems in place so that my business could tick along with reduced involved from me. 

It was about embracing the reality of stepping back and letting others (and systems automation technology) step up – a real exercise in humility and trust as well as figuring out how to set up some tricky integrations. 

I also started prepping my body by reducing the time window during the day for eating - aka intermittent fasting. I was carrying a few extra pounds and knew that wouldn’t bode well with the long period of bed rest and inactivity on the way.

We’d relocated from London, UK to Porto, Portugal a few years previously for a better quality of life and to expose our young family to a new culture, language and warmer life by the sea. But as the surgery date in Portugal loomed, I was a cocktail of nerves and optimism. 

Facing surgery in a foreign land added an extra layer of uncertainty. I’d spent the last few years learning Portuguese but somehow, once in a medical setting, you don’t want to just understand 90% of what’s being said. 

Fortunately doctors in Portugal including my surgeon speak a very high level of English. This helped immensely in terms of prepping for the operation and putting me at ease.

3 Must-Dos for Anyone Facing Surgery

Facing the prospect of surgery? Buckle up, buttercup, because we're diving headfirst into the Operating Room Olympics. Here are three pro tips to ensure you're left feeling like a gold medallist in the post-op recovery games.

1. Become a Question-Asking Ninja: Before surgery, turn into the curious cat you always knew you were. Ask your surgeon everything—like if you'll set off airport metal detectors or if you’re getting superpowers like Steve Austin the Six Million Dollar Man. Remember, there are no stupid questions. Ninja Tip: Use Chat GPT to arm yourself with an easy to understand explanation of your condition so you can ask your surgeon the right questions.

2. Prep Your Batcave: Get your home recovery-friendly. Think grabbers for those out-of-reach items and a throne (recliner) fit for a king. A simple solution like a tilting table on wheels for working from bed is also a good idea. Remove obstacles and trip hazards. Your future, less-mobile self will thank you for making your surroundings feel like a cosy fortress.

3. Rally the Troops: Inform your family, friends, and even your mailman that you’re going under the knife. Set up a support system that makes superheroes envious. Bonus points if you can get someone to rub your numb foot on demand (I’m still working on that one).

Navigating Unfamiliar Waters

Getting ready for surgery meant more than just mental and physical readiness; in Portugal it meant shopping for crutches. Yeah, you heard that right. In Portugal, crutches don’t just magically appear by your hospital bed. I had to pick mine like choosing a sword for battle, opting for the ones that promised not to abandon me mid-stride.

As D-Day approached, the mix of nerves and anticipation was palpable. Sure, I was about to let someone rearrange the insides of my knee, but more than that, I was learning to trust—trust in the skill of my doctors, the resilience of my body, and the support of my family. All would be key in helping me navigate the white waters ahead and bounce back.

Undergoing surgery in a foreign country was teaching me more than just medical terms in Portuguese. It was a lesson in embracing the unknown, in finding a sense of belonging even in the most unlikely places, and in trusting that, sometimes, stepping out of your comfort zone is exactly what you need to move forward.

Facing and Embracing the Fear

Staring down the barrel of surgery is like gearing up for a heavyweight title fight against an opponent you can't even Google. It's you versus the unknown, and let me tell you, it's one heck of a head trip.

Fear is the uninvited plus-one to your surgery party, and it brings along a suitcase full of "what-ifs." What if things go sideways? What if the surgeon slips? What if there are complications? These are just some of the concerns that can play loop-de-loop in your mind. 

The way I chose to cope was similar to the way I used to get ready for a big long jump competition. Focus on the positive. Focus on the things inside my control and engulf any negativity with positive thinking and thorough preparation.

But then there's the day of surgery. Lying on the hospital trolley, ceiling tiles rolling past my line of sight, waiting for showtime. You're hit with a tidal wave of nerves - at least I was. It's a moment that smacks you with the reality of your vulnerability, a crash course in how fine the line is between believing you’re Superman and feeling like you're made of glass.

Even though my mind was saying “Dude, you got this. Be cool, everything will be fine”, the combination of the flimsy surgery gown I was wearing, the breezy hospital corridor whizzing past and my body getting me ready for fight or flight, had shivering. I could even hear my teeth chattering. What the hell is happening? 

A voice inside my head kept repeating. But still the shivers and chattering.

To anyone about to step into the ring with surgery or any of life's heavyweight challenges, remember: fear is part of the journey, but it doesn't get to steer the ship. You do. And with the right crew in your corner, there's no battle you can't face. 

Once in the operating theatre, I recall it seemed like the handover at a 4X400 relay. There were medical staff everywhere. A little chaotic, but everyone focused on their specific task. 

The chief anaesthesiologist said a few reassuring words to me.  I noticed the time on the wall clock was 10AM. And hey presto, the next thing I knew I was slowly opening my eyes. The time on the clock read 4:30PM. A 6.5 hour surgery passed in what seemed like seconds. Crazy! If time travel were possible, this must be how it feels. 

The No-Nonsense Recovery Roadmap

Recovery kicked off with a reality check: waking up to a world of hurt but also a sigh of relief that I was still alive and kicking (at least with one leg). That initial win—making it through surgery—quickly got grounded by the realization that I had a marathon ahead, not a sprint.

The early days post-op were like being thrown into the deep end without armbands. Firstly, in the day following surgery, I was convinced my operated leg was suspended in a sling that allowed it to swing from side to side without touching the mattress. 

Nonsense! The leg was lying directly on the bed. The sensation was likely the result of the heavy analgesics I was slowly being weaned off of.

Managing pain, chasing sleep that played hard to get, and relearning how to do basic stuff, like moving around without wincing, became my full-time gig. 

Getting the hang of crutches was a lesson in humility. Picture a baby deer on ice—that was me, trying to navigate without face-planting. Those crutches? They were my frenemies: there for support but also a constant poke reminding me of my limits. Oh how I wished I’d bought the pair with extra padded grips.

Coming home from hospital was a big league move in the recovery game. Sure, being back in familiar territory was a win, but my home suddenly felt like an obstacle course designed by someone with a twisted sense of humour. 

Simple stuff, like making a hot drink or hopping into the shower, turned into strategic operations requiring wit and a bit of ingenuity.

A Slower Pace, a Longer Game

Slowing down wasn’t just a drag. It opened up a whole new perspective. I started to sweat the small stuff less and cheer on the little wins more—like that first night (about a week after surgery) when my knee didn’t feel like it was in a vice grip. Once you leave the hospital and head home without the big gun painkillers, the hardest battle is at night when you can’t find a single comfortable position to rest without shooting pain.

This whole experience was also a masterclass in swallowing my pride and asking for help. Suddenly, asking for assistance from those around me became a must. My crew at home stepped up big time, turning into a well-oiled support machine that kept me sane and on track. 

The empathy and maturity of my 6 and 7 year old were particularly impressive. It’s amazing how fast kids grow up. They jump to pass me my crutches, take a heavy dish back to the kitchen or pass me a book that is just out of reach.

Let’s be real: the road to getting back on my feet has not been a straight one. Some days I feel like I’m stuck in neutral, making zero progress. The numbness in my foot can be unbearable. Feels like I have a bandage wrapped too tightly around my ankle and another one constricting a badly frostbitten foot. 

But each day the discomfort eases a bit. Setting small, bite-sized goals became my strategy for staying focused and positive.

Being side-lined from my usual physical hustle meant I had time to dive into stuff I’d normally scroll past. I stumbled across new podcasts and online courses that have been mindset shifting. Turns out, there’s a whole world of brain gains to be had when you’re not sweating it out. 

Navigating recovery was like learning to walk, then run, all over again. Every day brought its own mini-battle, balancing the push to improve with the need to not overdo it. Looking back, this journey has schooled me in the art of bouncing back, not just physically but in how I tackle life and business challenges.

Recovery has taught me resilience and forced me to get creative, and reminded me that sometimes, you’ve got to lean on your squad to make it through the tough patches. It’s been a ride—one that’s far from over, but hey, at least now I’m moving forward, one step at a time.

The Real MVPs of Recovery

Recovering from surgery tossed me some life lessons I wasn't shopping for but ended up valuing more than a Black Friday deal. Here are 6 lessons I learned from my experience I wanted to highlight.

1. Remember Gratitude: There’s nothing like a meniscus donation to remind you how interconnected we all are. Someone I'll never meet gave me the gift of mobility, which is mind-blowing when you think about it. This whole experience made me realize the power of saying "thanks"—not just to my mystery donor but to everyone from the doc who skilfully operated on my leg to the nursing team, physios and close family that helped with my healing. You guys are my MVPs.

2. Patience truly is a virtue: Aka the art of not losing your marbles when you're moving at the speed of a sloth. Recovery didn’t care about my go-go-go attitude; it had its own slow-mo rhythm. I had to learn to roll with it, which wasn't easy for a guy who's used to sprinting through life. This waiting game taught me to take a chill pill, to deal with setbacks without throwing a fit, and to appreciate the pause. Turns out, limiting yourself to do less forces you to think bigger and work smarter.

3. Adopt a Health First Attitude: My whole outlook on life has gotten a serious makeover. Losing the ability to move like I used to, then fighting to get it back, has been a reality check. It showed me that health isn’t a given; it’s the foundation for everything else. This whole saga made me want to take better care of myself, not just for me but for my family and the people counting on me. My new schedule means I’m now much more conscious about the time of day I eat. Delaying eating until later in the day and avoiding eating after 9PM has helped me get lean again.

4. Adversity comes sooner or later: You eventually have to encounter big life events. When these come knocking, they’re your chance to level up and really see what you're made of. Facing down challenges is less about brute force and more about strategic growth. These moments, tough as they might be, reveal our hidden strengths and help us build rock-solid connections. They're not just hurdles; they're opportunities to become tougher and more connected.

5. Laughter Really is the Best Medicine: Don't underestimate the power of finding humour in the little things, like becoming a ninja with crutches or discovering you're the reigning champ of 'longest time wearing pyjamas' These lighter moments in the midst of recovery can transform pain into something bearable, even laughable. Laughing at yourself and the situation is not only good medicine; it's a sign of strength.

6. Flexibility Isn’t Just Physical: Adaptation is key, not just for your body but for life's curveballs. If your recovery isn't going as planned, improvise. This adaptability extends beyond physical recovery, touching every part of life and work. It's about staying open and creative, ready to whip up solutions—or a surprisingly good meal with just mustard and pickles.

Wrapping it Up

So, there you have it—my takeaway from the surgery saga. Gratitude, patience, a focus on health, confronting adversity, having a laugh and staying flexible have been the real life lessons learned. 

They're lessons I’m taking to heart, in life and in business. Because at the end of the day, it's not just about bouncing back; it’s about bouncing back better, smarter, stronger, and with a bit more appreciation for the ride.

Peering into the future, I'm not just optimistic; I'm geared up with a new toolkit for tackling whatever curveballs life and business throw my way. This whole experience has equipped me with a renewed toughness that's more than skin deep—it’s got grit, heart, and a bit of swagger.

My game plan? To weave these recovery lessons into the fabric of pushing my business forward. I'm talking about building a resilience-first outlook, where challenges are just uncharted adventures waiting to be tackled head-on. 

Also, if my knee surgery recovery story can help prepare someone else for a similar encounter or light a spark under someone else facing their own hurdles, that makes it even more worthwhile.

Massive shoutout to my family and my medical dream team again. You guys rock!

So, what's next? Well, the recovery journey doesn't come with a neat "The End" sign. It's more of a "To Be Continued..." because let’s face it, life’s full of next levels to conquer and new dragons to slay. 

I don’t plan on long jumping again but it would be nice to resume regular pain free exercise in the form of swimming and cycling and whisking wifie off to a salsa dance class now and again. Let’s see.

Armed with resilience, a dose of patience, and the willingness to embrace the messy, beautiful process of growth, I’m ready for whatever comes next. Either way, I’m looking forward to turning setbacks into comebacks. Here's to the next chapter, folks. Here’s to making it epic.

Next Steps

Alright, folks, you've officially crossed the finish line of the first-ever Briando’s Newsletter. But don't hang up your running shoes just yet—we're just getting started.

Here’s Your Next Move: If my journey from the operating table to bounce-back papapreneur has sparked even a flicker of inspiration, or if you’ve simply enjoyed the ride and want more, here’s what you can do:

• Hit Subscribe faster than you can say "post-op physiotherapy" to get all the latest Briando’s Newsletters delivered directly to your inbox. Trust me, you don’t want to miss out.

• Follow My Tracks: Jump on the social media bandwagon—Instagram, Twitter, LinkedIn, Threads you name it. I’ll be sharing the highs, the lows, and the hilarious in-betweens of my adventures on the winding path to the Good Life.

• Share Your Saga: Got your own comeback story? I’m all ears. Drop me a line, send a pigeon, or slide into my DMs. Let’s swap tales of triumph and tips for navigating comebacks and victories.

What’s on the Horizon?

Consider this the teaser for the next blockbuster chapter. For all you savvy dads looking to rewrite the rulebook on work, life, and play, I’ve got quite the line-up for you.

• Pivot Like a Pro: I’ll be tackling the future of work head-on. Whether you're looking to shift gears or just steer your current path towards more rewarding destinations, I've got the insider info that'll get you there.

• Automation Nation: Get ready to dive deep into the world of automation and solopreneur skills. We’re talking about setting your life and business on autopilot (the good kind) so you can reclaim your time and focus on what really matters.

• Freedom Formula: Time freedom and location independence aren’t just buzzwords; they’re reachable destinations. I’ll share the lessons I’m learning for carving a path to self-sovereignty. Hopefully these lessons will help you get there even faster too.

• Living the Dream: It's not just about the grind; it's about enjoying the fruits of your labour. We’ll explore what it means to live well, balancing ambition with well-being and family life to truly savour the success we build.

So, buckle up, fellas. It’s going to be an enlightening ride, with practical tips, life hacks, and maybe a dad joke or two for good measure. Let’s chart a course to success, freedom, and fulfilment, together.

Stay savvy, stay tuned.

Cheers,

Briando