When I was first told my meniscus was torn, I wasn’t sure which one: the lateral or the medial. I knew the lateral one was closer to where the worst pain was, but I know that pain doesn’t always correspond with the problem area. At my latest physical therapy reevaluation, I found out which was torn. Erin said it was definitely my lateral.
It took all of two seconds max for her to find the tear.1 It took the same length of time for me to almost jump off the mat while screaming profanities & threatening to go all Liam Neeson2 on her. Not to worry. I didn’t actually do that.
Notice how I said almost.
I did tell her it hurt when she was testing me, which is major progress for me.3 Anyway, even though I was “graduating”4 from physical therapy…again, she was glad I was going back in to see the orthopedist on the 16th. All of the physical therapists have expressed that sentiment. In fact, after I find out whether I’ll be having surgery, getting an injection, or coming back to continue my never-ending therapy with them, I’m supposed to let them know what the doctor says.5
The test causes it to make a palpable pop. ↩
From his role in the Taken franchise, not Schindler’s List or Love Actually. ↩
Snaps for me. ↩
Every time you finish, they gather the therapists, hum “Pomp & Circumstance”, and hand you a lovely tee shirt that advertises their services. You’re probably thinking that that’s so sweet–and it is, unless you have severe anxiety issues. In that case, you want to hide under the mats until everyone leaves because being the center of attention is enough to make you want to scream, cry, or vomit–or all three if you’re especially blessed. ↩
Their concern is sweet. ↩