The doc put me in a knee brace for six weeks. Within hours it had rubbed a raw spot on my leg, and when I wore the protective sleeve under it the next day, I got an very red and very itchy welt from whatever keeps the sleeve from sliding down. So I improvised with the cut-off top of a sock until the doctor's office gave me some cotton material they put under casts. I also left with a prescription for an anti-inflammatory medication and orders to take it easy on the knee.
When I went back for my check-up, the pain had improved a LOT but he was still concerned, so he ordered physical therapy -- twice a week for four weeks. At that point he will re-evaluate and possibly do an MRI. He is hoping I can avoid surgery with the therapy (and I an hoping for this in a very big way).
Physical therapy is also called PT, and I've come to believe those initials also stand for Pain and Torture. Heaven bless her, my assistant therapist is as sweet a woman as they come. We talk about all sorts of things while she's ripping my hamstrings and quadriceps from my body. She tells me I'm doing a good job, but darnit, I swear there's a little gleam in her eye when she sees the tears in mine or watches me breathe through a series of 60 leg lifts.
What sort of person becomes involved with pain and torture... er... physical therapy? The curriculum is tough. My main therapist has DPT after her name -- Doctorate in Physical Therapy. After she got her B.S. in Kinesiology, she did three more years of study in physical therapy plus an internship. She's a smart cookie.
But geez it hurts. And I have exercises to do at home too. If it means I can avoid surgery, I'll do my Lamaze breathing and tuck a tissue in the pocket of my yoga pants and gut it out.
Keep your fingers crossed. And if you see me, ask, "Have you done your
Have YOU had to do PT for anything? Tell me about your tor... er... treatment.