So apparently one of my knee ligaments slipped out of place or something, and She had to rush me to Avenues Clinic early in the morning cos I couldn’t walk or bend my knee.
Firstly, it’s not fucking Grey’s Anatomy, and if you have a vision of Her car screeching up to the ambulance entrance and a troop of nurses and doctors rushing out with gurneys and such, yelling at each other about drugs and procedures and ORs, get it out your mind.
In retrospect, the guys in Casualty treated me as well as I could expect, and I guess three hours for an examination, injection, x-ray, bed, diagnosis, strapping and discharge isn’t actually bad. All with a flourish of the CIMAS card, as well.
Anyway, according to the doc, one of my ligaments “got slack”, so he prescribed me a course of (really strong, gnarly) painkillers and a visit to the ortho. Now here I lie, a week off work, my Nurse making spag and meatballs, an $80 (hinged) brace on my knee, crutches within reach and up to the gills in awesome drugs.
Pain is good, right? It means I’m still alive.