Day 336
Back in August I sustained a knee injury. The good news: I did it playing volleyball, not doing housework. The bad news: I delayed treatment until volleyball season was safely over. When I finally did seek treatment, I made an appointment with the best Sports Medicine doctor around, he even has Olympic ties.
At my first visit with the doctor I described the symptoms, explained how it happened and let him know that my recovery was urgent as it was cutting into my aerobic activities. An X-ray and MRI revealed an ACL injury and bone bruise. I was to rest--no high impact activities-- and commence physical therapy.
PT was super fun at first. I looked at it like having a personal trainer who massaged my knee. I grew tired of spending 2 hours a day, three times a week there. I decided I was pretty much healed, canceled future sessions and started jogging again. The darn knee pain flared up, only worse than before.
I finally resigned myself to a couple weeks of no exercise. It made me crazy that I wasn't burning calories. I missed Zumba something awful. Luckily, the longer you go with no exercise, the easier it gets. I started walking again, figuring I had finally healed when the doctors office called. They wanted to know why had I checked myself out of PT. I was busted. I explained I was fine so they insisted I come in for a final check.
Not only was I not "better," I added a second injury thus prolonging healing. Now I am battling with myself, a version of me on each shoulder.
"Listen to the doctor and heal."
"The longer you don't exercise, the bigger your butt."
"If you don't let it heal you could suffer long term injury."
"If I go much longer my pants won't fit."
"Keep it up and you'll be limping for a long, long time."
My choice: gimpy or chubby. Perhaps a bedazzled knee brace ...
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