Pain. For some of us it is something we live with everyday. Try to think about the worst pain in your life. Is it childbirth? Is it the loss of someone in your life? Is it a physical pain? As a nurse, I see people with pain every day and try to help them through it, whether it be physical or emotional pain. Sometimes the emotional pain is just as bad as the physical pain. I deal with my pain in two ways. Eating and repression. So, for me to admit that my knee hurts bad enough to go see someone about it, then those methods are no longer working. If you remember correctly, I finally called and got an appointment with my almost hit puberty ortho doc to discuss this bleeping pain in my knee that I can no longer ignore or eat around. So, after working last night, I went over to his office to hear if I was too fat to run.
First of all, he had the nerve to have the flu this morning so was not coming in. Damn him. Where is my donut? Luckily, his associate saw me. Now I joke that my ortho looks young enough to be in junior high, but his associate looks good enough to be an underwear model. Seriously. Great. Now I have to tell this guy who probably stands around his place in his underwear with a cheesy I am too handsome for my own good smile on his face that this fat girl hurt herself running. If i wasn’t going on vacation this weekend, I might have re-scheduled. I can handle my doc telling me I am old but I didn’t want to hear I was fat from a doc. I might call myself fat, but to hear that from your physician can be quite demoralizing. I once looked at my chart and saw the words obese written, underlined and with explanation marks in there at a gyn appointment. To say I left still with my gown on and the little paper sheet wrapped around my fat butt is probably an exaggeration, but I never went back to see that gyn. I mean come on…that paper sheet wouldn’t cover my flass. But I sure as hell wasn’t gonna let someone look at my poorly shaven girl parts who thought I was fat enough to underline and put exclamation marks by it. Hello! So I left that appointment. Today, however, I took a deep breath, took the x-rays he wanted and waited. I really could have used a donut at this point. In he came and we did the whole “what seems to be the problem” conversation. I grimaced as I said I thought I had injured the knee with my new running experiment. Now, I must say I don’t normally don’t have verbal diarrhea like that but my tiredness and his good looks caused me to blab on and on. His interest was piqued. His head cocked to the side, he asked about the experiment and I told him my goals, my training and about my blog. Soon he was smiling and asking for my blogs address to pass along cuz he said he used to be FAT! WHAT? Mr underwear model in shape looks like a fitness trainer now I am a handsome doctor was FAT? He has an inner fat boy! He said he could totally relate to me wanting to be healthy and he applauded my efforts. I almost stopped for a minute when he sounded so enthused and asked if he had a van and lived in my neighborhood. He was THAT excited about a fat girl running. I mean he would be the perfect I wanna make a fat suit guy right cuz he knows about anatomy. My imagination runs wild here but I did manage to get my squirrel distracted brain back on track as he discussed my knee.
Ah the knee. Having had surgery on this knee, I know all too well that I could injure it again. Even training for the 3 Day last year I came and saw the 12-year-old ortho doc beforehand to ask him about doing it and was cleared. X-rays look good but show arthritis. Wait? Arthritis? I am only 40! Isn’t arthritis an old person’s disease? Oh great. Now I am fat and old. Let me hear it. To my surprise, he said I was YOUNG to have arthritis and he started asking questions about my family history. My brother has horrid arthritis in his knees and is only 30. He is stylish enough to walk with a cane proudly when he needs it. I am not that stylish. Pretty sure I can’t pull off a pimp cane with a sword in it like my Bubby. I would look like a fat unstylish pimp…wait. Let’s be honest. I would look ridiculous! I had to use a cane when I hurt my knee before and do you know what I had? The typical metal medical cane that looked like I had pushed down some elderly man on the street and stole his cane so I could be as cool as him. My friends had to help me decorate it with Disney stickers when we were at DL with it cuz they were embarrassed to be seen with me. That and pushing my fat flass around in a wheelchair while we were there made for some good times, even if one of my friends did let go of my chair as we came down a steep ramp from Autotopia and I wildly veered into a wall and almost died. I might have some PTSD from that and the terror inducing Closet Of Death they put me in to get me up there in the first place. The fact that my friends convinced the DL cast member to stop it and pretend I was trapped in that closet of an elevator without a way out should tell you all. Good thing I love my friends. But upon more talking about my history, we think all my years as a ballet dancer did this damage to my knees. He had good news and bad news about this however. Good news…He didn’t think I had torn anything and wanted to try a steroid injection into my knee to see if that helped. Bad news…no running for two weeks. Two weeks dear readers feels like such a set back. He did say I can do the fat jiggling inducing bike or walk but no high impact exercise for two weeks. Then, if I want to start again, I am to run slowly for three months and only a couple of times a week with the other stuff in between to build up that knee. I had to ask him what his definition of slowly was since I already feel like parked cars move faster than me. I mean come on….the Motorized Wheelchair Man passed me. He laughed and said that kind of slow is good but then he had once more piece of bad news. If it hurts when I start back up, I am to stop and realize that running may not be possible for me. What? Not possible? How can it not be possible? Underwear model with an inner fat boy explained that with the major tear I had and having mostly no meniscus in that knee may cause permanent pain if I am to try to run. So re-evaluating the experiment might be in order.
To say that a steroid shot is fun is like saying a trip to the gyno with the cold duck lips is fun. Or for the guys out there the turn and cough part of your physical is fun and you look forward to it. You get the picture. It luckily had numbing medication in it and he sprayed my knee with this cold stuff that can only be described as what it must feel like to put liquid nitrogen on your skin. And I must tell you I did all this wearing Monsters, Inc scrubs and pulling down my oh so sexy support hose socks. Yeah that says serious runner. And why did I must have a large flower in my hair also when discussing running? I am hopeless I tell you. I thanked him…why do we thank doctors for doing painful procedures to us? Thanks for being my S&M bitch today Doctor I Look Too Good To Not Be A Fake Porn Doctor. Thanks for sticking a needle in my knee and sending me on my way. Where’s the porno music? With promises that I will feel better and if not, an MRI is in my future to finally rule out a tear, I gathered my stuff up with as much dignity as I could in my bright turquoise scrub pants and left. Then my fake porno doctor said one last thing. “Keep it up. You are an inspiration to all of us fatties former and present out there. You can do this.” I giggled internally over the use of the phrase “fatties” but smiled and said thank you.
Oh yeah. I didn’t die today. Well almost of embarrassment, but I didn’t die. I am steroid injected fat girl full of inspiration. And I will do this. The experiment continues…..