I swear, this dog is costing me an arm and a let. Or at least a knee.
MRI results are back, and as I began to suspect from my continual pain was a tear of the meniscus. And that MRI I got last weekend, the results confirmed my self-diagnosis.
The irony was, the two days after the MRI, while not perfect, my knee felt the best it had in weeks.
Ruckiry (?) (not Jon's boss), the pain came back full force (no Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam), last Wednesday. On Thursday, I still hadn't heard my results so I called the doc, who told me what I kind of already knew.
The red arrow I provided shows where the tear is.
I say 'ruckiry' because, if you're spending that much on a diagnostic test, you almost want to know you didn't get - "oh it's nothing", I mean, unless they were looking for a tumor. I'm a weird guy. I get it.
So the day after emailing the doc, I was in his office. Thank g-d he's cute. I don't mind the fees. Well, I do, but..........
Anyhoo......no surgery needed. Physical Therapy - which I'd already started. A cortisone injection in the knee - which was done perfectly by he.
And a knee brace.
A fucking $900 knee brace. Yes, insurance covers it, but that's not the point. I'm sure had they given me the make / model, I could have gotten it at Walgreens or amazon for about $43. Yes, there are intricate levers and straps, but you could say that about any gay man's play room.............I've heard.
We never did say how long I had to wear it. He doesn't need to see me back again - to which I asked if his kids (I'm assuming he has them) didn't want to go grad school, as with my elbow and shoulder and now knees, I have to assume I've paid for their undergrad education.
He laughed. So it was all worth while.
Song by: Gram Parsons & Emmylou Harris