Tag Archives: meniscus

Most Ridiculous Inconvenience Part 2

mri sign

I had another MRI the other day (click here if you missed my first one).  Because it’s been 6 months since my meniscus surgery and I am still suffering from knee pain.  The kind of pain that takes me twice the amount of time to climb a set of stairs.  Last time I checked I am a person, not a sloth.  Although I do have to admit to feeling like a sloth at times.  But that’s a whole other problem.  All I can say is I promise you I know what it feels like to be 96.  And it sucks so bad.

Anyway, this was my second MRI ever and I am a total expert by now.  Here is what I noticed this time around:

  • Why do they give you that questionnaire thingy when they don’t even look at it?  How did I know they didn’t look at it?  Because the guy re-asked me the questions.  Like I was lying the first time.  Yes, that’s what it was.  I was lying.  On second thought, I do have some shrapnel in my body.  My bad.
  • It is confirmed to me that I have adult ADD when I do something like this:  not listen to a thing the nice man is telling me when I have to get dressed for my procedure.  “Put on these pants and then….”  “Did I turn off the oven?  Wait.  What?”  Ok, so do I put the gown opening in the front or the back?  Did he even say I had to put it on?  Hello?  I’m having my knee x-rayed.  Not my boobs.  Pay attention, pay attention…ooh, a squirrel.

    Me with the gown opened in the back that I didn't need

    Me with the gown that I didn’t need.  Opening in the back.

  • Thank you for the pretty picture of the beach you put on the ceiling.  Too bad that by the time you roll me into the machine it is behind me.  And because you said I couldn’t move, I had to roll my eyeballs all the way up practically into my head so I could enjoy it.  Except I totally looked like I was either having a seizure or a bad drug experience.
  • How come when The Kid had her MRI on her foot, they let her choose the radio station?  Is it because I look like an old hag and they just assumed that I wanted easy listening?  Aren’t they breaking some kind of Equal Opportunity laws or something?
  • Apparently, Barry Manilow is the go-to guy for MRI’s.  Except instead of singing to Mandy, he actually sang to me.  I know this because he said, “this one’s for you.”  Thanks Barry.  You the man.  Well, the MRI man, anyway.
  • Why do the most itches happen when you can’t move?  I could go all day without noticing an itch.  But when instructed not to move for 25 minutes?  It’s like a spider had babies on my ankle and all her little spider babies made their way all the way up to my ear.  What is that?
  • I suddenly remembered a time when someone I knew had to have a test and they couldn’t swallow. “Okay Mo, don’t swallow.  You can do this.”  Oh, wait.  What am I doing?  I’m here for an MRI.  Right?  Squirrel.
  • Oh God, I’m gonna sneeze.  Ooh, remember a long time ago that trapeze family fell to their deaths while doing a circus act because one of the members sneezed?  That was terrible.  But that won’t happen to me.  Honestly, the only thing I’m worried about is the keys flying off the wall and stabbing me in the brain.  It could happen.

So my prognosis?  Something about the cartilage not healing all the way so I need to have some gel injections until it does heal.  Whatever.  Just as long as they don’t have to cut me open again.  I can’t take any more old lady knee.  Not that there is anything wrong with old lady knee.  But I’m not ol…oh, never mind.

 

I Have Been a Very Naughty Girl…er, Old Lady

Maxine and exercise

I have decided that I am being punished.  I am being punished because I started taking care of myself at this stage in my life.  And it’s not just me.  I know a few people in the same age bracket who are being punished for the same exact thing.  And it sucks.

I have never had a real injury in my life.  I’ve scraped a knee from falling, because I’m a klutz.  I’ve bumped my head by forgetting to duck while entering my car, because I’m forgetful.  I’ve burned myself on the oven rack because, well, I’m an idiot and didn’t use a potholder.  But I have never had an injury that is incurred by being an athlete.  Because I never did a sport in my life (except track team, age 14, one season).  Sure, I did aerobics in the 80’s, but who didn’t?  And besides, that doesn’t count.  It was more about who had the cutest thong with matching scrunchy socks.

I received a text the other day from a friend who is also a runner, among other things.  She’s been really working it to get into shape.  She’s about my age.  She was diagnosed with bursitis.  Bursitis!  Probably because she has been weight training.  The poor girl.  All she’s guilty of is trying to sculpt her body.  Because she wants to be healthy.  And look good.  Like me.  So when we go through menopause, we can be ahead of the game and avoid that ugly meno-gut.  That damn ugly meno-gut.

About 2 months into running, I started experiencing pain in my left knee.  It hurt a little.  But I still ran.  No biggy.  Then I injured it at work.  And still ran.  Then I stopped running for a day or two because it hurt.  Then I slipped on water in the kitchen and twisted that mo-fo knee.  Then I went for a run after a couple of days of rest. Then I tripped on something at My Retail Job.  Now the stupid thing just hurts.  All the time.

I went to the orthopedic guy the other day.  To get to the bottom of this situation.  I need an MRI because the x-rays can’t see a damn thing.  Thanks for the shot of radiation for no reason, doc.  Then he said some nonsense about it possibly being a torn meniscus or something along those lines.  I stopped listening when I heard “meniscus.”   Just so you know, they don’t repair themselves.  All the “resting” in the world will not help.

So, I started riding my bike.  My big, fat mountain bike.  On the road.  The one with cobwebs and a gear shift that gets stuck.  The one that literally hasn’t been used since 1997.  But it’s exercise.  Because I’ll be damned if I let a little ripped meniscus stop me from taking care of myself.  And gaining 25 pounds back.  No freaking way.  I would rather eat cow poo while swinging from a 46 foot high tree limb.  Ain’t happening.  And just so you know, I’m going running with my Bursitis friend this week.  Screw you meniscus.  Screw you Bursitis.  Try to stop us.