Joint
Operation
 Funny
story.
Three weeks ago I got out of my car and
I heard my left knee make a tiny 'click'
sound. I have knees seemingly constructed
of old
cigar butts and chewing gum so I can
sprain
the joint if the wind happens to blow
in the wrong direction. As such, I regarded
this as just
another
desperate cry for
attention.
Whatever
it was this time put a definite hitch in
my get-along and I ended up limping on
it for about a week,
expecting it to heal as it always has before.
Then the knee swelled up to the size of
a casaba melon. I staggered around the
house in this condition for another week,
completely
unable to bend
my leg, before finally giving in and calling
the doctor.
A quick, semi-fascinating digression: There's
a nerve in the leg that causes it
to
straighten
sharply
if the knee
is struck
by something like a doctor's reflex hammer.
I learned the hard, painful way that there's
also a nerve in the leg that causes the
knee
to bend, equally rapidly, and the swelling
in my leg irritated it. So here I am, barely
able
to totter
around the house,
with a knee so full of fluid that I cannot
bend it, and that damned nerve would go
off at random
intervals. Once, in fact, when
I was sitting in a drafting chair. With
little warning my knee
suddenly
folded up, launching me across the room
into the bookcase. I lay on the floor for
a long time, alternately crying from the
pain and laughing at the absurdity of it
all.
Digression
over.
My GP was puzzled by my symptoms so he gave me some
diuretics for the swelling and some antibiotics,
just in case, then referred me to a specialist.
Five days later the swelling had mostly dissipated
and I was able to slowly walk unaided into the orthopedist's
office.
He took about a zillion x-rays then proceeded to
knead, prod, and jostle my knee mercilessly for several
minutes before finally giving me his prognosis.
"There is nothing wrong with your knee."
In case you're wondering, yes, I trust him as he's
an older man who's obviously seen a knee or two.
The only thing
he could suggest
was that a tiny piece of calcified cartilage broke
loose (thus the 'click') and irritated the joint.
In case you're counting, that was three weeks trapped
in my house only to be told it was nothing. I wallowed
in a lot of self-pity during that period but I came
out of it with a deeper understanding of the travails
suffered daily by those slowed by age
or injury,
or those who cannot walk at all. In my mind, we could
use more handicapped parking spots. A lot more.
=Lefty=
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