Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Kick Tap Kick Knee Kick Kick ... Repeat

I have been kick boxing since September (ish) ... I have been dieting since November of 2009.   Not - dieting - in the clinical sense, but dieting in the sense that I'm watching what, and how much, I eat.  As well as the time of day in which I am eating.   Since 2009, I have lost a few sizes (yes, a few) and since adding kick boxing to the mix, I have lost one more (at least) and "the number" is finally going down - slowly, but yes, it's going down.

That being said ... I have a bad knee.  I've ALWAYS had a bad knee, and I have been very careful with it thus far.   That all changed this past Wednesday.

Let me back up a touch - in January I came down with a sinus, and double ear infection, as well as a raging upper respiratory infection.  I was super sick, and missed 6 weeks of classes.  In that time, Emily was sick, and the weather forced the studio to close as well.  Keep in mind, I go - one time a week, one hour per class.  And I LOVE it.   I haven't felt this good about myself, since I was a kid.  Seriously.  Missing 6 weeks, I was afraid to get back into it, for fear of over doing it and hurting myself - or making my respiratory infection worse.

I did GREAT!   I stopped a few extra times to catch my breath, and rest myself - but made it through 100% of the class, and felt great after class.   The following week I did better, and each week there after I've done better than the last.  The week before last, Emily had a fever of 103 - so I took her home, and we both missed class.  I took her to the doctor, got her on antibiotics, and she's been fine ever since.  

Fast forward to Last week ... 20 minutes into class, I'm feeling great - haven't had to slow down, or stop yet.  30 minutes in, still doing great.  35 minutes in, AWESOME!  I'm rocking through!   40 minutes in - still kicking ass ... 45 minutes in - SNAP.  Oh Shit.  Try to get through the set - and I have to stop ... shit shit shit.  Sit down, and grab some water - Shit.   It's already swelling.


45 minutes in.  I knew what I did the *second* it happened, and I knew it was going to be a painful mistake.  

Wake up Thursday morning - swollen knee.  Come in to work, do my thing - keep it elevated (as much as I can) - and ice it when I can.  

Wake up Friday morning - text from Dad - stay home, ice the knee, it's nasty out.  Mike decided - we're going to the doctor.   My mom was of no help to me, completely on Mike's side here (SUCK!!!) so as we're getting ready for the day - the following conversation unfolds.

Mike:  I'll bet you tore your meniscuuuuuuussssss
Amy:  Um, do you even KNOW what a meniscus is?
M:     Yep, it's the main big muscley thing in your knee.
A:      Uh huh.  I didn't tear my meniscus, if I did, I'd need surgery - and I'd be screaming in pain right now.
M:     NOT ALL meniscus tears need to be surgically corrected you know.
A:     Okay Dr. Spock - get her dressed while I take a shower okay?

Fast Forward - we dropped Em off a school, and headed to Seacoast Redicare.  Find out they don't accept my insurance, and call my regular doctor.   Now, I have an appointment at my normal doctors office, and a little time to kill.

A:   Hmm I've never been into The Cozy Nest.   I wonder what it is?
M:  I was going to take you to the Sprint store to fix your damn texting, and take a peek inside Blockbuster.
A:  Well, we only have a FEW minutes, so ... is there anyway we can do that AFTER the doctor?
M:  I really wish you would have taken the later appointment (as he drives into the Cozy Nest parking lot - SCORE!) 

After browsing around and making some selections - it was time to hobble to the car, and head to the doctors office.

Mike drops me off at the door, so I don't have to hobble far.  I check in - and realize I have to pee.  Now, if you know me, and you should - you know I don't pee in public.  There are very few places - with the exception of my office, that is acceptable to me.   That includes friends houses (I'm SO sorry, please do NOT be offended) and even my families houses (though - I'd always pee at my moms house - cuz - well she's my mom I KNOW it's clean!!) - that being said, I had to go - very badly.  SO I did - and the minute I went in, I realize the lock doesn't work ... I'm already in there, so I can't just - walk out - because now my body knows it's time!!!   So I do the squat, and get ready to grab the door pose - and in the process realize "Shit, that's my right knee closest to the door, yeah that's bright Amy" ... they call my name.  I'm in there, maybe 5 minutes - because now I'm terrified someone is going to come in mid-stream ... so I jump up, wash my hands and bail.  Still having to pee BTW.

All that aside, you totally needed to know that part - because - well the next part wouldn't be as funny.

So we go down the hall to the little exam room - the nurse takes my temp, bp and makes me stand on a scale (Down 3 more pounds since the last visit to this drs office -- WOOHOO!!) and says the dr will be in.  A doctor whom I've never met, seen or know.  Great.   HOWEVER - he's the ortho guy, so it's a plus.   (Now remember the conversation about the meniscus, and me having not peed - got it?  Okay, on we go)

Dr. Cole comes in - greets me, introduces himself and asks what I did -- I explain, and (while sitting & with the LEFT leg) demonstrate what I did - and told him the second I did it - I knew I hurt myself.  I got up on the little table-y thing and away he goes.  Bending, poking, squeezing, pushing, prodding, stretching -- I didn't know I was so damn bendy -- all while I had to pee.  Thanks Dr. Cole!  (see, not as funny right!?)

Dr. Cole:   Okay, so I think I know what's going on here.
Amy:         Lay it on me.
Dr. C:        You have a slightly torn meniscus.
Amy:       ::points at Mike, who is giggling like a school girl in the corner::  SHUT IT - just f&^%ing shut it.
Dr. C:      HOWEVER - it's not a "classic tear" because your complaints aren't the same as someone who has completely, classically torn their meniscus.
Amy:       Alright, sooo what does that mean.
Dr. C:       At this point, I don't think surgery is necessary.
Amy:      ::again points at Mike who is now uncontrollably giggling like a school girl in the corner::  Zip It Paco, You're an ass
Dr. C:     I'm prescribing the RICE method to you, along with some ibuprofen (or advil) two tablets, twice a day, whether you think you need it or not.  I'll give you some vicodin to take at bedtime if the pain is to much - and if you decide the muscle relaxers you have at home work better - please call and I'll get you some.
Amy:       Okay, so -- Kick boxing is out then?
Dr. C:     :::Blink Blink Blink .. Blank Stare::: Um I'd say so - for a MINIMUM of two weeks - and no, I'm not talking the remainder of the last class, and one more, I mean 2 full weeks from today, that's 14 days - April 15th - if it's no better, you're to come back and get an MRI to see how far the damage may be.
Amy:      Shit.   Thanks Dr. Cole.  (under my breath, for nothing)

Hobbling out to the front desk, I can hear Mike snickering - the bastard was right, twice!  Grrrr.

SO.  For the next two weeks, I can't kickbox.   Damn It.  DAMN IT ALL.

I'm supposed to be "Resting, Icing, Compressing and Elevating" my leg.   yeah.  Not so Much.

PS ---- Funny tidbit.

This morning - Emily walked over to me - stopped about 10 steps away, and then started LIMPING back to me ... hobbling and with an over exaggerated limp.

Emily:   *sigh*  Momma?
Amy:    Yes, Peanut?
E:          Uhh, I hurted my leg.
A:         You did?  How?
E:          *sigh* I fink I tored my iscus
A:        ::suppressing giggles::  no baby, you didn't you'll be okay.
E:         But - It's my bad leg, and it hurts.  I tored it!  I need my princess ice pack
A:        Will that make you feel better?  Ok - let's go get it.

**SIGH** Kids ;)


Jessi said...

Love this post. SO sorry for your injury but, makes for a really funny story.

Amy said...

Right? LMAO .. I look like such a tool, hobbling around - whining about kick boxing. not the possible surgery - oh no - not the possible MINIMUM 6 week recovery time - nope, the freakin' kick boxing!