My knee hurts

Like the title says, my knee hurts. When I was a kid my Pop used to get mad at me, because I would be running and while in full stride, fall to my knees and skid. He would cringe and say that I was going to wear my knees out. It was a familiar theme with my dad. He would say the same thing about the front door, or the refrigerator, "That door has only so many opens before it breaks,
your going to wear it out." If I had a clear escape route I would ask "How many opens and closes do you think we have left?" Then a quick duck from the projectile launched at my head, turn and out the door... Oops, add one more swing to the total, we're one closer. The smart ass in me was completely unaware at how right my Dad was... Not about the refrigerator, but my knees. Today I stand before you a man with very little cartilage left in my knee. It's defined as firm, whitish flexible connective tissue found in various forms in the nose, ear and most important for this discussion, articulating surfaces of joints. For anyone keeping track, that's my knees. Cartilage, the thing that meant nothing to me as a child, that once gone, never grows backs is reason for my current unhappiness.

Remember the last post? I mentioned briefly that I was icing my knee at night hoping it would get better once I got used to riding again. Well it didn't. It only got worse. I made an appointment with the doctor to see what she could tell me. I've been going to the same doctor since I moved to Minnesota 10 years ago. My friend Jeff thinks she's a horseshit doctor because he is sure she tried to kill him once. I don't understand Jeff; I like her style. Every time I go in to see her, sure I have a tumor or cancer in my finger, she will humor me and do an X-ray or take some blood. She probably throws the blood sample away because I never hear from her on the results.

As I sat in the exam room waiting for the doc, her nurse walked in and started laughing because the last 2 times I saw her was at the Urgent Care. With a smile, she asked if I had hurt myself again. I said, "What do you think?" Only this time I didn't require stitches. The doc came in and in 30 seconds told me what the deal was: patellar subluxation. You see, all that nice whitish flexible connective tissue that was once under my knee cap is gone. Not the end of the world, but I need quad muscle to alleviate the nasty scraping. Ah muscle, my illusive band of fibrous tissue that has the ability to contract producing movement or maintaining position. In my case the lack of muscle is the reason why my knee cap isn't maintaining a steady position resulting in a viscous stew of of fragments sloshing under the cap. Yikes, that sounds horrible! Viscosity and knees should never be used in the same sentence. I've learned that I've always had this problem but it never got out of hand because I had some muscle. Why all of the sudden does it hurt this bad? Well the doctor explained that I'm the victim of a rare and tragic set of events that by some sick twist of fate has happened at the same time causing my condition. You see, I've aged, and at the same time I've gotten fat. The doctor explained that as I get older my body doesn't recover the way it used to. And to make matters worse, as I lay around and turn to a giant tub of goo, losing lots of muscle in the process, my knee cap scrapes on bone causing pain. How could this have happened? How could I have aged and gotten fat at the same time? The only thing that has changed since my waist started expanding is I got married. Like any good husband I blame my wife for this. When I met her I was a svelte 185 lbs and my head was full of black hair. The doctor didn't agree with my logic. She thinks I got fat because I got complacent. What the does she know? Maybe she did try to kill Jeff...

Worried that I will be stuck with this the rest of my life with no relief from the pain (or the aging), the doctor again disagreed. "There will be no Celebrex," she said. "Only exercise and weight loss". She gave me a handout with exercises I need to do to start rebuilding my diminished quad muscle, and suggested 195 lbs would be a good weight for me. The worst of it is she told me that this wouldn't go away on its own or over night, that I have to keep building quad strength for a long time before it feels better. The news was pretty devastating. I dropped to the floor like like Nancy Kerrigan after being felled by Jeff Gilluly's tire iron, clutching my knee, crying "Why? - Why? - Why?!" For me there will be no silver medal. No awkward parade moment on Disney's main street, in the back of a covetable getting felt up by some guy in a mouse costume. Nope, my redemption will come sitting on my living room floor for the next few months, getting licked by my dog while doing the stupid exercises just to lessen the pain.