Round and round

So in accordance with the wishes of my orthopedic specialist, I'm going for physical therapy for my knee twice a week right now. 

In my spare time. 

Of which I have lots. 

Yeah.

It's going... okay. 
I'm surprised, actually. I didn't expect noticeable results.

Call me skeptical (because it goes so well with cynical) I thought physical therapy for my already-sore knee would be like, oh, I don't know, a blow to the head to cure a headache. Although technically I suppose a hard enough head shot would actually cure most headaches... but here I am, a few sentences in and already digressing. I do that. I'm sure you've noticed.

I generally keep my hopes low, expectations can't be smashed to hell if I don't have 'em in the first place, right?

My tendency ( I'm not alone in this, right?) is to move the knee less the more it hurts. Because it, well, hurts! 

Isn't that pain supposed to be telling me something?

So since I injured it a month ago, I've spent a lot of time not using it. I walk on it endlessly at work etc, but don't do a lot of knee flexing. It hurts when I flex it too much or too often.

Even though the initial inflammation has long since subsided, I still baby it a bit, because I'm afraid of twisting it again and doing something else to it... and I live in mortal fear that I'll hurt the other knee, too. 

That's just what I need... to give myself a matched set.
::snort::

But I've been faithfully doing the very mild exercises (two sets, three times a day... okay, usually twice a day is all I have time for, but still) I've been told to do, and it has helped. The knee is stronger, and I'm limping less, although at the end of a long day, that sucker's singing pretty loud. 

When I wind up and sing along, we make a nice duet. 

(I'm thinking Guns N' Roses next, I've just about exhausted my repertoire of show tunes.)

Ice and the occasional dose of Vicodin help. 

Mostly I take the medicine only when I don't have to get up in the morning, though. 

It makes me feel incoherent and slow and sludgy and disoriented on waking, and like I have eyeballs full of sand. It takes about 12 to 14 hours for a dose to completely wear off.  

That's one pill, folks.
I'm a cheap date.

Hate the side effects but love the temporary relief from the ache/pain and the sudden sharp reminders that I'm just not operating at 100% when I turn over in bed in the middle of the night. 

I sleep like a brick when I take it, too. Well except for the incredible technicolor freakshow that goes on in my dreams while under the influence... but that can be entertaining if one keeps the right attitude, yes?

I still like my physical therapist, too. He's a nice man, intelligent and easy to chat with, sense of humor etc... he's a lot like most of my friends, actually. Quick, articulate, quirky... I'm fairly comfortable seeing him for treatment.

He mostly doesn't hurt me. 

Much. 

Every once in awhile he surprises me and hurts me a little and we all know how much I love surprises from medical people.

The nature of the injury combined with therapy unfortunately causes me a bit of discomfort every time I have treatment (and for an hour or six after) but he hasn't contributed to my overload of medical anxiety so far.  

I don't feel panicky when I am driving over there for an appointment, and if you know me, you know that panic is usually bubbling just below the surface when I have to do anything medical or dental.

That's why I asked to be sent back to this place when I saw the doctor about my knee.
 
The staff there is professional and friendly. Between the shoulder and the knee, they have all taken very good care of me for a couple months now, and I appreciate it.

Shawn (the PT guy) provided a good explanation of what's going on with my knee last week, complete with a working knee model with a severed ACL.

Geez, talk about a graphic demo. No wonder the damn thing hurts!

Oh. I'm back. I know you didn't know I was missing, but



I just now got up and took Lyssa a piece of chocolate (Tami dropped off some chocolate for me yesterday-which-was-actually-Tuesday, just because. Have I mentioned how much I love my friend Tami? The chocolate is not the only reason, just so you know.) While I was up just now, I went to the bathroom, washed my hands, refilled the always empty soap dispenser (without ranting about being the only person in the house who knows how to do this and why the hell can't someone SEE THE DAMN DISPENSER IS EMPTY for goodness sake and doesn't this mean that the rest of you aren't even washing your hands!??) and washed my hands again. Talked to Eric about my big plans for Friday (when this posts it will actually be Friday. I have a day off because there is no school and I was not asked to work THANK GOODNESS.)

So anyway. 

I had a point here before I started rambling. 

 










ANYWAY. If you're still with me (and I wouldn't blame you if you were not, because my god, I've been typing for 15 minutes and still haven't said anything.) 

Wednesday morning, (I'm typing this post Wednesday night... I love being able to write posts ahead of time and set them to post when I want) I had one of my two PT appointments for the week.

Shawn asked me if I thought the therapy was helping. 

And I said,"I do think so." 

I went on to talk about the smaller amount of squishy water in the knee, the better range of motion and the fact that it's not as painful at the end of the day as it was a couple weeks ago.

And he said something about how we're strengthening it for surgery.

Aw hell.

I mean, I knew it. It's not really a surprise. But I guess I hadn't really thought about having to have TWO DAMN SURGERIES lately and was feeling pleased with my progress.

But I really haven't gotten anywhere at all. 

I'm just a grumpy, gimpy hamster, running like hell on a squeaky wheel.

::sigh:::