Thursday, July 18, 2013

Becoming a more "mature" woman, or why it sucks to get older

So about a year ago, I injured myself playing kickball. Yes, KICKBALL. Yes, the game you learn in elementary school that is kind of like base/softball only you kick the same kind of ball people throw at you in dodge-ball.

As an aside:  I was horrible at kickball when I was younger (read: elementary school). For some reason my brain could not comprehend the whole idea of pop-fly means you have to stay on the base (if there are less than 2 outs) until it's caught bit. I would always run—always. This did NOT endear me to my fellow teammates, and they often counted me as an automatic out when figuring out the lineup and when we would have to go back on the field. As a result, I tended to gravitate more towards stuff like field hockey, where I could hit people I didn't like with sticks... on "accident."

At any rate, about a year ago when I was playing 2nd base, my teammate playing shortstop lobbed me the ball so I could get the out, but it was a little too far to the right. I pivoted to grab the ball, and although the rest of my body turned to the right, my right leg from the knee down stayed firmly in place. My guess is there was some sort of a divot, or maybe I was too close to the base, I don't know, but it hurt. A LOT. Since then I had been having periodic pain in my knee, and a big ol' lump just below my kneecap--right at the tip of my tibia.

Last month i got tired of dealing with the pain. It hurt too much, and I was about to lose insurance (it's a long story), and I figured it was now or never. So I made an appointment with an Orthopedist that specializes in sports injuries. Now don't think that the irony that I was going to a doctor who makes his money treating people who injured themselves playing "real" sports (football, baseball, golf, etc) for an injury I sustained playing a kid's game was lost on me one bit. It was all I could do to keep a straight face when he asked me to explain how I originally injured myself.

me: ah. yes. well I was playing kickball, you see...
dr: I'm sorry, did you say kickball? not softball?
me: no. kickball. It's a lot like softball, but with the big red ball.
dr: oh. ok. go on.
me: yes. ok. well I was playing kickball, and there was this play on second base.
dr: you were playing second, or rounding second?
me: playing second
dr: good job then. did you get the out?
me: um, yes.
dr. even better. let's look this over then, shall we?

And so there was some awkward leg manipulation—mostly because I was wearing a skirt—and in the end an MRI was ordered. I was sent off with paper in hand, and by the end of the week I was lying on my back with my leg firmly in a vise to keep it from moving.

Another aside here: have you ever noticed that the minute you are told you CANNOT move your leg, that's the minute you start exhibiting signs of restless leg syndrome? Seriously, the second that light turned on to signal the scan was starting, my leg wanted to immediately begin doing the Watusi. 

The diagnosis came a week after the first appointment: prepatellar and infrapatellar bursitis. So...

GOOD: no surgery
BAD: pain pretty much the rest of my life, can't wear a proper knee brace, going to have to modify my exercise routine in the extreme

But hey, no surgery, right?