Let me tell you a little story. It started Memorial Day weekend, when I was in Florida, visiting some of my best friends.
We're all in the computer room on Sunday and someone is streaming some of Dane Cook's stand-up. Now, Dane Cook is an absolutely hillarious comic, so I proceeded to demonstrate
one of my favorite bits from his act. It involves a little jumping and whatnot; and as I jump, I feel my right knee say "Pop!" When I land, I continue to land, and I lay there for a bit holding my knee and trying (successfully) not to swear in front of the kids.
On Tuesday (my first day back at base), I go to "sick call" and have a doctor look at my knee. He pokes it approximately twice and declares that he "thinks I did a tendon thing." He says not to run or bike on it for 30 days, they'll get me a brace, and that I should pick up some Motrin on the way back to class. 15 minutes later, an airman comes in and tells me they're out of braces, but she'll wrap it in an Ace bandage, if I like. Since the neoprene sleeve I got at Wal-Mart will do the same job as the bandage, I decline.
Fast-forward to the beginning of this month. I've returned from the Land of Dixie, and I'm off my waiver. Thursday is a PT day, and PT for Thursday is dodgeball. I figure I'm up for it; I'm off profile, my knee hasn't bugged me much for weeks, good to go. First match, I'm one of the last 3 or 4 people on my team. I whip a ball at Jo-jo (got her), plant and pivot to get back from the line and make myself less of a target, when my knee says "That's it. I quit!" and leaves. I continue to land again, and quietly scoot my butt off the court.
I RICE it. Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation for the rest of the hour, and some of that for the rest of the day. Friday, I go to the Urgent Care Center (I couldn't get an appointment). After I explain my situation, the immediately send me to Radiology for some X-rays. Some hours later (things get slow in the UCC), they call me back and a Physician's Assistant takes a look at me. He says the bones look good (as we expected). "You see how this is spongy?" he asks. I watch him squeeze my knee a bit and say, "why, yes." "This tells me there's fluid. Which means you've hurt your knee, as you already know." He has me bend some and pushes and pulls a little, and finally concludes "I think you've torn your meniscus. But to be sure, I want to send you to Ortho and get an MRI." So, he schedules me for Wednesday, gives me an "immobilizer" and says that if I want to wear the neoprene, that's ok, but use crutches (which he gives me).
So, now I hobble around and tell the story of how we had to fight a squad of Marines to the death at the NCO Academy, and they got the knee before we took 'em down.
Much more interesting than an old dodgeball injury.
--Beav
Labels: Funny, Medical, USAF
