On Thursday at work, I found myself limping. My right knee just hurt like a bastard whenever I stood up after sitting for a long stretch of time. I had driven in that day, so I was very excited about not having a .6 mile walk to the car... throughout the day I stood up, stretched my leg, got tea, walked around the floor. Usually if my knee is sore, which it has been lately, use makes it feel better.
Later this month I have a physical scheduled where I was going to ask my doctor about arthritis, RA or osteo, because both run in my family.
Upon arrival home Thursday night, after an exceptionally stressful (and knee pain filled) commute home, I had to run out to deliver wreaths to some folks who had ordered them from Geoff's BSA Troop.
I got to one house, stepped up on the first porch step and heard the pop, felt the pop, and crumbled to the next step on my left knee.
My knee basically exploded in pain - I thought for a second as I pulled myself up to a standing position "well, I hope that was just something out of place and now it has corrected itself."
But no. It wasn't. I stood on the porch having a conversation with the person who had ordered the wreath, smiled and said I had to go pick Geoff up at Scouts and limped down the steps back to the truck.
I couldn't put any pressure on my leg, I kind of skip/hopped to the car door and was panting in pain as I lifted my leg into the vehicle. I couldn't pull myself up in, so I took my leg out, rotated and hopped butt-first into the seat to then swing my legs in.
Holy crap, pain.
Driving wasn't hard -- I could use my foot ok and shifting my leg to the brakes was no problem... I made it to Scouts, got Geoff, and we headed home.
Doug and I discussed whether or not I should go to the emergency room or just RICE (or, ECRI as the order was that we approached the first aid) the knee and I'd sleep on the couch. We opted for the latter, because spending 4 hours in the emergency room with a 100 dollar copay to maybe be told to go home and RICE it sounded stupid.
We got in first thing to see our PCP, and she thinks I have an enclosed dislocation of the patella. Meaning somehow that my patella has moved... she thinks possibly from a build up of fluids behind it that burst (hence the popping). She doesn't think I have a strained or torn ACL, MCL, PCL or any other L, or torn tendons or anything. I have good range of motion, it's all in the standing and walking.
She referred me to an orthopaedist. And they can't see me until Monday. Had we gone to the emergency room, we would have at least had X-rays done so she could see them, and maybe be able to tell more because I don't know if I have an enclosed dislocation of my patella. But I'm not a doctor. What do I know?
So, short term means I am in Knee Jail. My doctor told me I am not to leave the house, and am to stay off the foot, the leg, the knee, the walking until I leave for the orthopaedist on Monday morning.
I'm on the couch, sleeping with my knee elevated, and feeling the pain when I walk around. Doug bought me a cane, which was nice of him but I feel like a big huge fat old crippled lady. I'm really pissed off because I had gotten into a great nice routine of walking (unless it was pouring/icy rain) every day to and from the subway and train. I was going to the gym at least once a week, usually with Geoff on Sundays if the 4pm football games did not include Patriots or Steelers. I'd gotten back on track with losing some weight.
Isn't it always right when you join a gym that you go and injure the hell out of yourself? jeesh.
I'm sure that this will all be okay, a temporary set back. I'm just kind of frustrated because I missed work Friday, will miss work Monday, and who knows what the ortho is going to say.
My big fear is that maybe I will need to have PT three times a week and God only knows when that is going to fit into a life schedule. I should research if there is a PT place close to my office. I know there is one across the street from North Station.
And an even bigger fear is the possibility of surgery. Good grief. I've put off having surgery on my abdomen until maybe this summer (based on trying to save money, pay bills, get ahead now that I have this contract job) so I don't know if they will keep me if I have to have outpatient surgery and 2 weeks recovery or some shit.
Anyway. They used to say "Calgon, take me away," but today I'll say "Vicodin, take me away" and take a big assed nap.