Temporary stupidity
I went to the doctor on Tuesday, since I could barely walk and didn't want to end up in NYC unable to move.
The doctor was great. With very little to go on from me, she quickly intuited that I'm a supremely active guy, and that losing my knee after the appendectomy was verging on pushing me over the edge psychologically. We all know I need to work out to stay sane. Seems she knows the type, and figured me for one. Once she found out what I do for work, she suggested an ideal career path for me was in the military. She called me a "hunter" not a "farmer". Said our society's not got many acceptable outlets for "hunters" like me. I suppose it's mostly true. I need to be physically active, I need to plan things out and make them happen, I need some excitement and adventure, I need to win, and I'm happy to endure plenty to make that happen. I also hate authority and don't really want to kill anyone. So military is bad for me.
When she started to talk about how I was feeling, without me telling her, it got a bit choked up. Just feeling understood is a great thing.
She tried to do the test on my knee in which she'd bend it in unnatural ways to see if it would give. But as Ari pointed out, my leg muscles are very well developed, and could hold everything in place, even with some damage. So it's inconclusive. So she ordered an MRI, very much against the rules. Because she identified me as part of that far end of the bell curve who uses their bodies in rather intense ways who deserves the MRI. She understood that just knowing what I did would help me psychologically. She very much treated my emotions as much as my body, and I was stunned. She took a lot more time with me than she had to. Great doctor.
I'll have the MRI Friday, and will start physical therapy on Monday. The medical center I go to is located literally in Giant's stadium (thus the MDs that know athletes...). So I'll be doing rehab there.
Miraculously, when I got off the plane in NYC, I was able to walk a lot better. Before I was merely hobbling. Step forward with left, bring right even with left, repeat. Now I can take actual strides, but they're still limpy.
I hope it's just a strain. But that "pop" still scares me. Strains don't pop.
The doctor was great. With very little to go on from me, she quickly intuited that I'm a supremely active guy, and that losing my knee after the appendectomy was verging on pushing me over the edge psychologically. We all know I need to work out to stay sane. Seems she knows the type, and figured me for one. Once she found out what I do for work, she suggested an ideal career path for me was in the military. She called me a "hunter" not a "farmer". Said our society's not got many acceptable outlets for "hunters" like me. I suppose it's mostly true. I need to be physically active, I need to plan things out and make them happen, I need some excitement and adventure, I need to win, and I'm happy to endure plenty to make that happen. I also hate authority and don't really want to kill anyone. So military is bad for me.
When she started to talk about how I was feeling, without me telling her, it got a bit choked up. Just feeling understood is a great thing.
She tried to do the test on my knee in which she'd bend it in unnatural ways to see if it would give. But as Ari pointed out, my leg muscles are very well developed, and could hold everything in place, even with some damage. So it's inconclusive. So she ordered an MRI, very much against the rules. Because she identified me as part of that far end of the bell curve who uses their bodies in rather intense ways who deserves the MRI. She understood that just knowing what I did would help me psychologically. She very much treated my emotions as much as my body, and I was stunned. She took a lot more time with me than she had to. Great doctor.
I'll have the MRI Friday, and will start physical therapy on Monday. The medical center I go to is located literally in Giant's stadium (thus the MDs that know athletes...). So I'll be doing rehab there.
Miraculously, when I got off the plane in NYC, I was able to walk a lot better. Before I was merely hobbling. Step forward with left, bring right even with left, repeat. Now I can take actual strides, but they're still limpy.
I hope it's just a strain. But that "pop" still scares me. Strains don't pop.
posted by Kenneth at 1:42 PM
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