Maybe I am a little over ambitious about Mondays. Generally-speaking if you love your job or school or things you do, you will like it when Monday comes around again. So we don’t hate Mondays, we hate that job or class or thing that we have to start again on Monday. It takes away from our fun.
Today is Wednesday and I sigh a small sigh of relief. See I was progressing by the nano-second, as it were, and went down to one crutch by day eight, post-surgery. Too soon. Thought I felt a stress reaction or stress fracture or something like that. Back to both crutches. Things are calming down now.
Anyone else have this?
So maybe I confused the potential stress-thing with an irritated I.T. Band. See the band is a tendon that runs from the top of the hip saddle, down the outside of the leg and attaches to the outside of the knee. It is there for lateral stability and to irritate the hell out of you when it wants (dual purpose tendon).
If we run a lot, as many of you well know, it can get tight and rub on the nodule on the outside of the knee. For non-runners and new runners we think, ALAS! running henceforth is terribly bad stuff for the knee. But as we veteran runners know, it is the band, tuned like a guitar string, too tight, rubbing on the frets. We just need to turn the tuning peg back by massaging and kneeding the baskard (word altered for sensitivity to those who didn’t grow up with a father).
But I fret not now, for perhaps it was indeed the I.T. Band and some of the pain radiated around? Anyone have that, early days post-op? Please say yes.
Anyway, things are both hunky and dory.
Off the drugs.
Man that Dilaudid is bad stuff. Six times stronger than morphine, I had dreams of clown monsters and scenarios that surely couldn’t happen, like swimming in a river of warm and delicious Crown Royal whiskey with the cap for a float and big straw. I mean it was good and everything, but that’s a lot of whiskey gone to the ocean. Maybe it was a metaphor. Drink all of your whiskey!
Anyway, let me know if you have had a scare with the I.T. Band. Thanks.
BTW, I would take a picture of my scar, but it is not half as sexy as that one posted recently. Mine resembles a rattle snake that got shot repeatedly with a staple gun.