Here I am. Climbing the new, gigantic mountain in front of me. Here's the story. There was a serious, gymnastic, late night dare when I was 13. Who can win a race on their hands. Down a concrete walk way. Down hill. I would have won, if I hadn't cracked my knee cap. Had surgery at 17 to fix all the damage. It has not hurt once in the years since. Even after I have continued to teach high impact on it.Then two weeks ago it's weird. I lay off a bit. Then I travel out of state for a certification and used it for the thousand hour class. The following Monday, I taught two classes and worked out on it. Got home and holy shit people. It was over. MRI showed a dislocated knee cap and "highly damaged" cartilage. Excuse me can you give me the definition of "highly damaged?" Instant vacation for me. 8 week vacation. I hate vacations.I met a Physical Therapist several years back that saved my life. More on that later. So, I called her and demanded that she save my life again. She is phenomenal and agreed to work me in. I went for my first session yesterday and it was brutal. They pulled me off the knee and asked that I use a crutch. I had already decided I was going to do that anyway, so no shock there. They have the most cutting edge equipment and I used some nasty language but at least I walked away feeling better. I'm dreading the rehab like I'm dreading all horrible things in my life but do I have another choice?