Thursday, February 09, 2006

Snow Day

Winter's back. Snowing outside, crappy driving conditions. The house is sealed up tight. Perfect time for upstairs floor refinishing and the outgassing of huge amounts of probably-toxic volatile organics. The whole house smells like the inside of a can of paint thinner. Brain cells are dropping like snowflakes.

But it sure looks pretty out the window.

I'm working through a bit of a depression. Nothing major; just a low spot in the road. I made an appointment today to start physical therapy for my knee. This despite the fact that neither I nor my doctor really knows what's wrong with it, so how can a physical therapist determine what to do to help?

Kristi, I think, expected me to feel better about life once I took action on the knee. But I had already taken action by resting it for five months, with no measurable results. This is just a different action, and while it may eventually bring relief, in the short run it's likely to make me more depressed, not less. When I was a teenager I had significant knee pain, and four of the best orthopedists in Fresno told me I was nuts. I really didn't want to start another round of "the pain in your knee is actually in your head," which is why I opted to let it try to heal itself. But Tuesday I found myself sitting in my doctor's office, looking at the somewhat bemused expression on her face as she tells me she doesn't see any clear cause for my pain, and thinking that I'm just starting down that road all over again.

I don't want to be on that road. I hate that road.

Unfortunately, I also hate the pain. It's not crippling, mostly just an annoying ache, but it's also a warning that over-using the knee will only make it worse. (And yeah, it does.) It's another reminder, too, along with the impending 30th high school reunion, that I'm getting old -- which is certain to lift my spirits.

Not.