It’s wrong and it’s been like this forever.
I can’t even tell the teams apart.
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What a nightmare. Burnley could have worn their black kit against Liverpool's red, or maybe white against dark purple. Instead it's red shirts against red socks, white shirts against white socks, with white sleeves and white shorts everywhere. #premierleague #color #kit #soccer
Bournemouth’s home kit is red and black. The contrast does not get any clearer! Why must the away team wear the away kit?
Range of motion: 110 degrees flexion
Week 1 exercises:
- stationary bike
- knee flex
- propped extension*
- quad set
- straight-leg raise*
- 4-way hip*
- super clamshell with band
- bridge with ball
*weighted if appropriate
I come home from MRI to a ringing telephone. It’s the Sports Medicine doc.
This is fast.
“Hey, you tore your ACL. I’ll get you to the Orthopedic Surgeon and we’ll go from there.”
“Is that the only damage?”
“They’ll check for other damage in the OR but for now that’s the only damage I see in the imaging.”
“Hey man, now that we know what’s wrong, we can fix this. We go to the next step. We just have to take one step after the other.”
The Sports Medicine doc sets me up with crutches and a knee splint to keep it immobilized. I get in a shared Lyft even though I live 10 blocks away. I just can’t hobble home yet.
This person who picks me up has a really messy car that is being used as a Lyft vehicle. The driver is a bit larger than I am. I get in the front seat with some difficulty, the splint keeping my leg straight and the crutches not exactly helping me look graceful. I sit, and then jump. I have just sat on a metal fork, presumably belonging to the driver.
The other passenger in the back seems to give me a look that says, “How dare you order a shared ride in MY Lyft…”
Anyway, I get home and lie on the floor. For an hour. This is just depressing. And the wait for answers is excruciating.
Somehow I make it through the night.
The next morning, I called MRI like the doctor said, and holy shit – someone did cancel and just like that I have an afternoon appointment.
I wait some more.
I order another shared Lyft, and a very nice driver and a very nice passenger arrive. Both of them know a thing or two about knee injuries. We chat. These little moments are quite pleasant.
I arrive at Radiology and change into another complicated gown for the MRI. One technician seems to know someone who retired from where I work and we joke a bit about it. The other technicians are all very kind. They ask if I am claustrophobic and stress how still I will need to be for 20-25 minutes if I don’t want to be in there for more than that. I am not claustrophobic at all but frankly now I am all stressed out about not being still enough.
If you haven’t had an MRI, basically, you lie on this narrow, hard table which goes into this small tube leading to a large, ring-like structure that makes really loud, unsettling noises. Some people are actually too big to fit on the table or in the tube. A computerized voice gives you instructions. Some units play easy music to sooth you.
I focus on staying as still as possible. I really don’t want to trouble these technicians and waste their time. I still foolishly hope that the MRI will say it’s not the ACL.
I get in another shared Lyft. This time a young woman in the back seat is actually giving the driver some major attitude because the driver picks me up before she is dropped off. The driver reminds her, matter-of-factly, that she ordered and is paying for a shared ride. When he drops her off in the rear parking lot of a building I know, it turns out that she could have gotten off in the front of the building before I was picked up because they actually drove past the front to pick me up, but she refused. Stupid. The driver and I remind each other that we don’t have time for such idiots so why stress about it.
I am at the Orthopedics Department seeing a Sports Medicine specialist. I know my last insurance company would not have gotten me here 2 days after the injury, so I really have no complaints. Now I’m just hoping it’s not a very serious injury. Of course, that’s highly unlikely, given what happened.
The specialist asks me about the events leading up to the injury, physically examines my leg in a few different ways, and ends with the Lachman test.
As I’ve mentioned before, most of the pain is on the lateral side of the knee. Instinctively – with a large dose of hopeful delusion – I am fearing an LCL injury.
He says, “We will need an MRI to confirm this, but I really think you’ve torn your ACL.”
Just about the most frightening 3-letter combination in the English language for any active person.
“Umm… A… CL?”
“Not the LCL?”
“No, it feels fine.”
“So why is all of the pain on the outside of the knee?”
In reality, bone bruising and pain on the lateral side are very common because of the way the distal femur and the proximal tibia “collide” with each other in the moments the knee loses its stability after the ACL rupture.
“How definitive is the MRI?”
“Almost 100%. Looks like the next available appointment is 2 weeks out, but just call them tomorrow and see if people cancel. You won’t have to wait 2 weeks.”