I really really hate being broken. I'm okay, really. It's not so bad. I only sprained my knee, it's not the end of the world. Everything is still attached, no permanent damage, just a bit more pain than usual. Long story short, last night roughhousing I heard it go -pop- and had a bit of pain. It mostly went away, but I figured--correctly--that it would be worse in the morning. Sure enough, guess who crab-walked to the bathroom this morning? This girl. So I ended up going [sheepishly and slowly] to the ER. I mean, it's not like it's a life threatening condition or anything... Just lots of pain. At least no one at the ER made me feel guilty[-ier] about coming in. They were all really nice. As I told them, I would have gone to an Urgent Care, but we don't really have one [Tricare Prime, and all that jazz]. Plus it was easier to go to that ER than drive all the way to work, which is 45 minutes on a good day. The PA said my knee was strong and the x-rays were good, but I should follow up if it still hurts after a week or so. That would mean there's potential damage to the actual cartilage, which they can only see with MRIs. They gave me a terrible taco-leg brace, midget-crutches, and some vicodin. And also a note for bed rest, because it's my driving leg... and remember how I said 45 minutes on a good day? Yeah no thanks. I will say though, at least at this new place I know they'd work with me and let me sit most of the day once I actually got there--it's just the getting there that I'm worried about.
|I only drank about a half of one|
and was out for at least three hours...
|Cause and Effect: |
I am broken, therefore I crochet.
|"Ladies don't start fights...|
But they can finish them!"