Confirmed, you're old, that'll be $2,000.

The trip to the doctor yesterday was not a waste of time.  I did ice the knee all day, but the swelling didn't abate, but it wasn't (isn't) overly painful.  Making an appointment for something that is a 2 on the 0-10 pain scale makes me feel kind of like a whiny baby, but as I only get these two knees I figured I have the time to make sure we're not making things worse by sucking it up.

Our doctor is quite funny and seems to read me well.  He had me hop up on the table as I explained the story behind my trauma.  "Ok, so it's Pool, Baby, and Money right?"  Yes - those are the key points of my knee injury.  "I'm just going to write down the medical term for general clumsiness."  Whatever the insurance company will accept doc, that's fine by me.

I explained that the pain was present, but not sharp or consistent when I made regular movements like walking and moving around, but if I twisted quickly or tried to do that squatting thing it would hurt.  So, he pokes pokes and pokes. "Does this hurt?" No. "What about this?" No, and then he pulled or jabbed and I yelled loudly and grabbed his arm with all my might, and then started to laugh.  "So that is what we call a positive reaction." He says mildly deadpan while waiting for me to free his arm from my clenched hand.  At this point I wonder is he going to do it again? You know those doctors want to...do no harm, I don't buy it.  They are just as dark and twisted as the rest of us.  At the dentist... you know that 'test' they do where they "measure the depths of your pockets"  and poke your gums around each tooth?  They don't have to poke you, the x-ray can measure the pocket, but they get off on the poke.  Poke (giggle), Poke (giggle).  Bastards.   But Dr. K does not inflict the pain again, instead off to x-ray I go, where for some reason I have to re-explain the injury. Pool, Baby, Money.

Finally, back to the room and I wait a short moment for Dr. K to inflict pain on the kid across the hall.  After the screaming subsides he's back to me.  We review the x-rays where it is discovered that I have a broken knee cap.  This is an old injury unrelated to the pain of the moment, and I have no idea of when it may have occurred.  I give myself a gold star for living with such a traumatic injury and never once complaining about it.

My (broken) kneecap is displaced and I have a case of Patella Femoral Syndrome.  Sounds serious right?  Well, not really.  PFS is common among runners.   That is a true statement that I would swear to the Supreme Court.  However, as a stand alone statement it could be interpreted that I myself am a runner.  I have taken a 'run' or two, but am not as you may guess an avid runner.  I don't mind it, but my inner dialog is so distracting.  "You're going to die, you can't breathe, stop, you must stop, you're going to die if you take one more step."  It's hard to keep a steady pace with that going on.  Anyway, back to my super serious injury.  It turns out that people who lay carpet, or play on the floor with toddlers are also susceptible to PFS.

The treatment... rest & ice for 2 weeks, then some physical therapy to get the knee cap back where it belongs.  Thankfully, amputation is very low on the treatment lists.

Dr. K also said "you know that old joke 'hey Doc, it hurts when I do this...'  Yeah, well, if it hurts, don't do it.  I don't get to use that line often."   He's a funny one.

Also, my self diagnosis of arthritis was accurate.  But, this is not unexpected and my pain will be managed with my old friend tylenol.  Pain is a strong word at this point.

So, here I sit with ice on my knee and I'm about to make some appointments with the PT people.  I wonder, do they do "Hot Rock PT?"

An actual photo of me.