Knee-dee

About five weeks back, I was finishing a jog with MJagger when, just as we were taking our last steps, my left knee let out a scream like no other.  I had to stop as my breath was ripped right out of my chest.

I had to stop and I could not walk.  My knee locked firmly in place.  Stuck and it wasn't unlocking.

It was rather awful but not earth-shattering.  I mean, my leg was still attached, no blood was spewing from any orifices, I was fully conscious.  I focused on the positive, limped the final half mile and hoped MJagger wouldn't end up carrying me the last few steps to the car. We were on the local bike path and there was no real way to "cheat;" I had to walk the final stretch.  I tried not to limp but it was ridiculously impossible. I sucked it up and kept moving.  I thought I was going to puke.  One step at a time, one step at a time.

I got to my car, waved good bye to MJagger and then realized......

......it would be really hard to use a clutch in this condition. 

Yes, I drive a stick shift.  Call me old school, a throw back to the days of automotive old.  I love my stick shifts.  Every car I have purchased has been a stick.  (The car I stole from my parents wasn't a stick but that doesn't count because I didn't buy it--I stole it from them.)   It was hard enough getting into the car, let alone driving with a clutch.  I thought about calling MJagger and asking her to come back and get me but I decided to give it a whirl.  I pulled my seat up as far as I could, allowing me to shift by keeping my knee in the bent position and basically shifting from the hip.

It sucked but it worked.

I had to cancel my appointments for the afternoon because I was so miserable.  Who wants a counselor who can't listen to you because they are in pain and can't straighten out their leg? I apologized to my client and asked him to stop talking--I had to leave.  I limped back to the car and headed.....

.....headed where? Should I go to the ER? No.  It wasn't an emergency.  Should I head to the urgent care? I could, but that seemed like a giant waste of money.  Should I call my doctor? Naw, the office is already closed and they would just tell me to come in tomorrow.  Home? Yes, I headed home to the land of ice packs, ibuprofen and the Internet.

For four weeks, I sat on my fat ass and had a pity party, smothered in chocolate and bad movies. No one was really the wiser.  MJagger and the wife knew, but otherwise, I was pretty undercover.  I mean, I basically have a desk job.  Counselors don't do knee bends or carry large boxes.  We sit in a chair.  Once the knee unlocked, I was able to get around without incident...however, at the end of the fourth week, I realized things weren't getting better.

I didn't want to but I made the call.

I made an appointment with an orthopedic doctor who specializes in knee injuries.  I purposefully chose a doctor who was NOT a surgeon....after all, surgeons provide surgery.  I was hoping for a non-surgical approach from a non-surgical doctor.  I thought that was genius on my part.

I went and saw Dr. Knee-Dee today, the end of the fifth week.  After a plethera of x-rays (done by a very lovely lesbian technician who engaged me in delightful conversation about my sweatshirt), I met the man who would manipulate my legs in ways that they should not be manipulated.  Oh my.

I found it interesting that he had his eyes closed many times during the examination.  He placed his hands on my knee and then shut his eyes.  He traced out the various parts of my knee anatomy and announced them aloud.  He also called out the names of the knee tests he was completing.  I had no idea what he was talking about but do know that the knee is a very complicated and that some of those tests are not very fun.  As he spoke, he casually noted that my clinical presentation and my report of symptoms suggested a torn meniscus.

No surprise there.  I had figured that out during my tour of the internet, the mother of all medical information.  I kept hoping I was wrong, but there are some things that aren't too hard to figure out, even on the Internet.

....imagine my surprise when he started talking about surgery.  Hey--I picked you so you wouldn't talk about surgery!  I'm paying you to say things like "physical therapy," not the "s" word!

Thankfully, the letters M-R-I followed the surgery comment.

(Side bar: Young women of the world, take care of your knees.  I have been brutally hard on my body over the past 50 years--my knees taking the brunt of the beating.  Look at my friends--we are the first generation of Title IX women limping around from all those athletic injuries. I say to you: be kind to your parts.  You'll need them later.)

So, I will have an MRI in the next few days to see what is really going on in that knee of mine.  There is still plenty of time to heal and find non-surgical options.  In the meantime, I will continue my M&M-fueled pity party.

If I do need surgery, I am going to ask if I can stay awake and watch. I will also ask the surgeon to take photos. If I don't need surgery, I will do a happy dance--on my opposite knee, of course.