So what kind of glorious, intense activity led to the tear? Was I injured playing basketball? No. Soccer? No. Any kind of sport? No. Kicking puppies? No.
Alas, the moment of un-glory was the dancefloor at a friend's wedding on one Saturday night, August 15th. After tolerating a typically mediocre wedding dance selection and spending most of my time chatting with people, I decided seize the night and dance for at least a little bit. When else do I get to get down wearing a suit? Almost never.
The DJ, by this time, has switched to tolerable top-4o hiphop. I stepped out to "Get Low" by Flo-Rida ("and then she hit the floor"). Alright, not feeling it that much, but at least it's a strong beat with a little syncopation. One or two more songs of the same, and then the DJ dropped the "Rockafeller Skank" by Fatboy Slim ("Funk Soul Brother check it out now"). A-ha, that's my tune right there! Big beat breaks, groovy basslines, time to get down.
Turns out, this was my undoing. I was into it, doing some toprock moves, switching both my feet back and forth simultaneously. At some point, I remember landing on both my feet, my left foot behind me, my right foot ahead of me. As I landed, I felt a snap.
The snap was in my right knee; I felt the top part of my leg move, while the bottom part stayed in place. It was really strange. My first thought was: "that's not supposed to happen! Something just broke!"
I attempted to continue dancing, but the right leg felt strange and I couldn't push off it easily, it felt like it was giving way. There was no instant pain, only that "something ain't right" feeling. There was no instant swelling.
I told the groom "I think I just tore something!" He said: "Go big or go home!" Fair enough--I went big, then had to go home.
I drove home, with my knee feeling achy. I limped a little into my bed and woke up the next day with the knee swollen a bit. I was unable to flex my knee past 90 degrees without pain. I also couldn't extend it straight. Something was wrong.
To go to the local ER, I attempted to get into my Miata, but was unable to flex the knee enough to get the right leg inside the cabin. (Later, I figured out that I could've just moved the seat back). Thankfully, I was able to get in into my Protege5 (an econobox hatchback) and was able to drive myself to the ER.
Hobble was the name of the game. I was afraid to set my foot flat (as that would imply greater knee extension), so I kept the right foot on my toes. This definitely worked my right calf.
I remember hobbling around from registration to triage to the doctor. Every time, the nurse offered a wheel chair and I refused, saying "I'll just hobble around." The nurse replied with "we can fix your knee, but we can't fix your pride."
I was given a knee immobilizer and crutches. I spent the rest of Sunday icing the knee and staying off the right leg.
No comments:
Post a Comment