The Tunnel of Doom

Depending on what time you're reading this, I am either about to enter the tunnel of doom, just left the tunnel of doom, or have been out of it for awhile.

None of those options are all that thrilling except the last one.
I'm sure I'll be fine once I'm able to get up and walk around.
Er, crutch around.

I saw the comp doctor on Wednesday morning. He sat down across from me in the small exam room and said, "I have bad news."

Then, he said I have a torn meniscus. That it will need to be repaired surgically, and wanted to know which doctor I wanted to be sent to.

That's not the bad news, though.

The bad news is that he thinks I may have ruptured a disc in my back.
I didn't even really notice the back ache until he started moving my leg around because the knee hurts so damn much..

Then, he did some manipulating and poking around on my leg and foot.

"Is it numb here? How about here? Move your toes. Show me where you felt the pins and needles in your foot. Motion is good on that side. Oh, not so good on that side. Hm."

Then he said, "I think you need to get an MRI for your back. We need to find out what's going on here."

So I have some medication that will hopefully allow me to get through the entire claustrophobic experience without screaming/freaking out/crying/soiling myself/puking/farting... well, you know. With a teeny shred of dignity intact.

And I really hope they don't find anything serious wrong with my back.

I won't know until Wednesday of this coming week what the MRI shows.
I'll be holding my breath.
And using crutches.
And driving the old lady cart at the grocery store.
Wish I could have one at work.

And I wish I'd been more careful.

::sigh::