As My Grandmother Used to Call It, Arthuritis

I had the meniscus removed. Since then, I’ve been able to tell when bad weather is on the horizon.

Very early on Memorial Day, I was sleeping alone in our bed; the Wife was sleeping in the guest room with the Daughter, because of the latter’s hacking cough. So when I woke in incredible pain, in my left knee, at least I didn’t disturb anyone else. How to describe the sensation: if you ever were dehydrated and woke up a cramp in your calf, except in the knee, and far more intense pain. I had a difficult time finding a comfortable position in which to sleep; anything involving the straightening of my left leg was contraindicated.

I hobbled to the office and actually wrote three blog posts. I really had nothing better to do; I couldn’t sleep, and I was afraid that if I went downstairs to watch TV, I’d never make it back up to the bedroom. The Wife wakes up, asks me how I am, and I tell her that she needs to take me either to the emergency ward or the urgent care place.

Ultimately, after breakfast, we discover the urgent care place is indeed open – my primary care physician’s office is not – and Carol drives me there. The X-ray reveals that I have a severe amount of arthritis in my left knee. This is not surprising.

In 1994, I went to a conference in Snowbird, Utah, outside of Salt Lake City. There was a mountain just behind the hotel, and having some free time, decided to start walking up it. I didn’t plan on climbing to the top, which turned out to be 3000 feet above the 8000 feet at which I started out, but I did. Going down, though, proved to be trickier. I started sliding down the mountain. My left leg got caught in a hole, while the rest of my body was still sliding downward. I tore my meniscus and ended up crawling down the mountain. Don’t know how I got to my hotel room, but I got someone to take me to an urgent care place to get my knee X-rayed.

Back in Albany, I had the meniscus removed. Since then, I’ve been able to tell when bad weather is on the horizon. Apparently, that is a common occurrence with joint injuries.

Present time: the next day, I get around on crutches I still had from the 1994 incident. After retrieving my X-ray from the urgent care place, I get a ride to the bone & joint place, which drains liquid from the knee; they will have it evaluated, to see if I have gout, if they’ll recommend knee surgery, or what. I also got a cortisone shot, which was helpful. Still, it’s easier to ride the bike than walking, and running, I’ve discovered, is contraindicated.

Strangely, my wife has developed similar ailments in the past couple of days; it really isn’t contagious.

Still achy, and the pain reliever makes me loopy, so I take it only at night. So if you see me with a cane or crutch, or just a little gimpy, you’ll know why.

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