Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery






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Monday, September 17, 2007


Gimpy Gimpy Ya Ya, Mama

Couple months ago, I got a bit of a sore leg. Nothing big; just, if I sat for long stretches, my right leg would hurt for a second or so when I stood up. This might prevent me from, say, taking an early lead in the Living Room to Bathroom Relay race, but didn't do much to hamper my lifestyle in any other major way.

I figured maybe I wasn't stretching enough after runs. I even briefly entertained the notion that, despite the flab that fairly clearly indicated otherwise, I was maybe running too much. I did my best to alleviate the problem by putting my leg up when I sat on the couch and making sure I gave special stretching attention (or "strention", as I like to call it) to my right leg after my grueling two-mile runs.

After a few weeks of this, though, the problem mutated, like Jeff Goldblum in The Fly, but with less vomiting. Now, my leg no longer hurt a little bit for the first few seconds I stood up, allowing me to really savor those blissful moments of initial verticality. Instead, it would randomly fill with excruciating pain as I was walking down the street. It felt kind of like if someone stuck a whole bunch of knives in your leg at once. This is just a guess, mind you, as I've never actually known anyone who would be such a tremendous asshole as to inflict multiple stab wounds upon my appendages.

The pain would cause me to limp, which was utterly pointless, because taking my weight off the leg did absolutely nada to stop the pain. After sticking around just long enough to make sure I'd had time to really enjoy it, the pain would go away. This was actually kind of frustrating, because, when you're limping pitifully one second and then walking perfectly normally the next, people think you're some kind of limp-faking dipshit. Sometimes, I'd continue limping until I got around a corner, just to maintain continuity.

I went to my doctor a couple of weeks ago, but he had no real idea what the hell the problem was. This may be due to the fact that I'm so completely inadequate when it comes to describing the pain. Mostly, I just pointed to the leg and cried, "Owie!" He was kind enough to refer me to another doctor, an orthopedic specialist (orthopod? orinoco flow? I'm never sure of which specialty means what.) Anyway, this guy apparently has an MRI or some such fancy gizmo, which I've never had done and desperately hope doesn't leave me impotent.

The earliest appointment this guy had, though, was this coming Wednesday, which means I've been gimping it up in the meantime, as the pain has become something more of a constant. It's been a rollicking good time hiking up to teach my students on the fifth floor. It's also meant that I haven't run in weeks and I can literally hear myself getting fatter with each passing day.

I want this to go the fuck away. I long for the days when I had to actually work to come up with excuses not to run. This has just made it way too easy.

Where does it hurt, exactly? And tell me about your mother.
Sciatic nerve, maybe?
That's what I'm thinking, too.
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