Kneed

The pain in my right knee has become progressively worse. It's now at the point that I actually use the handicapped handrails in the restroom in order to get down on and up from a toilet seat. Which is pretty freaking pathetic.

It had been a fairly low grade pain for the past five weeks. As it didn't pose an impediment to my activities, I chocked it up to some mild irritations of advancing years and ignored it. However last Saturday at my two hour kickboxing power core class while attempting a series of high round kicks, something gave. At the end of class, I hobbled to the subway. It hurt. I dutifully iced it, popped a few Aleve tablets and elevated my leg (which had begun to swell in a most unflattering fashion). My Joshu advised I call a doctor so I set up an appointment for today.

I saw my primary care physician today and she immediately referred me to an orthopedist. I caught a cab over to the East side, filled out copious amounts of paperwork and waited for a long while for someone to see me. I was finally ushered into an examination room, given a pair of paper shorts to don (I don't see these catching on, personally) and asked to wait. Soon a technician retrieved me, took various X-rays of my poor suffering knee and then I was returned to the examination room to wait for Dr. Lucas.

I waited. I cinched the waist of my paper shorts so they looked more flattering. I read the wall poster on the warning signs of osteoarthritis. Then Dr. Lucas came in. Or should I say, Dr. McDreamy came in. Wow.

Tall and swarthy with a head of thick black hair, he was delicious. He was immaculately attired in a pinstriped suit, crisp white shirt and lavender tie. He had beautiful hands and a deep, modulated speaking voice. I was transfixed. Why aren't you my gynecologist, dude?

He looked at my X-rays (while I looked at him) and he speculated that the injury could be patellofemoral pain syndrome (or commonly, runner's knee). This is pain behind the knee caused by overuse of the knee in sports. It creates tightness in the quadriceps and hence, creates discomfort with the knee extension (as he explained this, he grabbed my quadriceps to show me where the muscle is...and I thank you, Dr. L for that unexpected treat). This kind of injury is treated with icing, elevation, naproxin and a series of stretching exercises.

Then he asked me to lie down so he could examine my knees (oh, yes please. And while you're at it, I have some soreness in my chest that might need some looking at.) He manipulated my left knee in various contortions. It felt a little sore, but was unexceptional. Then he began to manipulate my right knee. For all my badass posturing, I could not keep on my game face. I screamed out in pain for it hurt like HELL. He put his lovely hands on my knee and stroked it gently. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said in his lovely voice, "I didn't mean to hurt you." That almost made it OK.

I sat up on the examination table. Dr. L stroked his chin while I gazed at his lovely eyes. "Well," he started slowly, " we may have a problem. I suspected patellofemoral pain syndrome, but it may be that you tore the cartilage in your knee." Oh, that doesn't sound good. Maybe if you stroke my knee again, this outcome won't sound as bad.

As it turns out, if this is the case I will have to have surgery. Which. Will. Suck. Still, Dr. L has scheduled me for an MRI next week to conclusively diagnose my ailment. Before the fascinating Dr. L left the examination room, I asked him the stupidest question ever; I inquired if I could go to my kickboxing class tomorrow. "Uh," he paused which allowed me to unabashedly ogle him one last time, "I'd suggest you hold off doing any kickboxing for a week or so. At least."

As I left, I rescheduled my follow up appointment with Dr. L. The appointment will be after a short vacation in St. Thomas. That should ensure my knee will be tanned a fine golden brown and suitable for additional stroking.