It is the same as my 2005 injury, according to my doctor. She heard what I had to say about what happened in 2005, how I gained weight from Seroquel and worked out three hours a day at the gym, desperate to lose the weight, then ignored the pain in my knee when my body finally gave out.
I am not ignoring it now, but still, the injury I have now, same as it was then, is an “overuse injury.”
Well, duh, Julie, you should have known that this would happen.
About a half hour before I left the house to see the doc, I realized that I could no longer walk without some kind of mobility aid. I needed to use my crutches. Thankfully, I have a pair from my 1999 fracture. So I found them in the closet, dusted them off (only kidding–they didn’t have dust on them), and put them to good use. I had already reserved a cab to get to the doctor’s. I had to make some decisions about how I was going to get home….
Then, there was the question of how I was going to get Puzzle out to relieve herself. My doctor suggested that I use a cane while walking her. I do own a cane from my 2005 injury. So I used it, and this worked out okay, we got into the yard and back, but afterward, I was mighty glad I had the pair of crutches to use again.
I stopped at the supermarket on my way home. I had it all planned out. I used one of those canvas bags to put my groceries in while I hobbled around on my crutches, and filled the bag with my groceries. Unfortunately, just about all of it was produce. Heavy stuff. So the bag swished around my crutch as I walked, back and forth. It was incredibly difficult to carry the bag full of produce and walk on crutches at the same time.
I must look homeless or something. No one even looked at me. No one asked me if I needed assistance. No one offered to help carry my bag and bring it the long, long distance from the produce area to the cash registers. I struggled and struggled to walk and carry this bag. Finally, I put two crutches in one hand and took my chances, and walked that way, as if I were walking on one crutch. It was risky to my knee, carrying the bag, but what choice did I have?
Then I got to the register. I asked the woman in front of me, who was using one of those newfangled roller baskets, how to use one. She barely looked at me, didn’t smile, and didn’t want to talk to me. What’s the deal here? Is it really obvious that I am mentally ill by what was now probably a complete scowl on my face? Is it that inappropriate to wear a down coat when it’s 55 degrees out because that’s what homeless people and crazy people (yeah, I’m stereotyping, sorry) seem to do around here? Is my hair that dirty? The cashier and bagger were decent enough to me, but I could still see their discomfort around me.
Okay, I was wearing…let’s see….one of my new huge dresses that covers my “elephant legs.” The elephant legs come from refeeding edema. That’s a side-effect of long term starvation. I have anorexia nervosa. But I was wearing one heck of a lot of clothes. My regular clothes, over that, the huge dress, over that, a huge down coat, and over that, a rain jacket. Did I look….fat? Is that why people didn’t help me? Was I the fat person who had “let herself go”?
Folks, I don’t know how long this will last. In 2005 I couldn’t walk and was in pain for three months. I had no one to help me, no transportation, no assistance whatsoever. I was a shut-in and completely alone. My self-esteem was in the gutter due to weight gain. I ended up in the psych ward because the stress was unbearable. This is bad, bad, bad,and 2011 will not, not, not be a repeat performance of 2005 if I have my way about it.