I have a bad knee. I've gotten used to having a bad knee. I have had it for many years now. I had surgery on that knee at least 4 years ago. It solved absolutely nothing, despite the assurances that it would solve absolutely everything. I just made up my mind that it is something that I have to deal with. "This is my life now. I have a bad knee."
When I look around at others, I see people with far greater challenges. I also have a high threshold of pain so it seemed like a manageable, minimal 'handicap'. As long as I was careful about how I set my foot down, the problem was not a big deal.
Last month, Tim and I were unloading wood and we heard a child screaming bloody murder. It just went on and on. It was a school day. We kept unloading and the screaming kept on and finally Tim said, "We need to take a little walk and make sure that no one needs help."
So we set off down the sidewalk trying to pin point the noise when it happened. My left foot teetered off the edge of the side walk and left my right leg in charge. My right knee said, "Aw hell no, man," and gave way. I went down knee first on the sidewalk.
It hurt something awful. I thought that I would throw up, it hurt so bad. Tim said, "Your problem is you don't pick up your feet." I didn't say anything at all. I got up and hobbled back to the house to get myself back in order. It was embarrassing, the truth be told. A neighbor was out walking her dog. Probably thinks I am a day drinker.
So for the past few weeks, I've been, once again, babying that bad knee. I can't kneel, which is a real pain when one has taken in a feral kitten who hides every single chance he gets. Sometimes it's okay. Other times it's awful. Tim rolled over in bed one night and bumped his knee against my knee and I thought that I would die.
(Spoiler alert: I didn't)
It just didn't seem to be getting better and so I made an appointment to see my family doctor. Yesterday, I hobbled in to explain the situation. She chided me for waiting three weeks, but she knows me. She pressed around until she found the place that hurt.
"Yep," I gasped "that's it."
She continued to press around, trying to gauge the scope of the problem.
"You've got it," I said.
She made hmmmm, sounds and looked at me strangely, and said, "Right here?"
I said, "Yes, that's it, Lindsey, and it would be just super if you could stop now."
She laughed. I sort of chuckled.
She explained that where I was having the pain didn't involve the knee at all. She sent me straight over to X-ray. I texted Tim and drove over. I caught them at a slow time, so I was in and out quickly.
The x-ray tech doesn't give anything away, but she did say, "When do you see Lindsey again?" I told her that I didn't have a follow up, that Lindsey would call me when she got the results of the x-ray and we would take it from there. "Good," she said.
I was starting to get suspicious.
This morning, I got the expected call while I was making my coffee. I have a leg fracture.
Late edit: not broken. Orthopedic doctor not even sure what the Dr. who read the x-ray was seeing. I am pretty sturdy stuff but stumping around on a broken leg was quite a bit of a stretch even for me.