Get down on your knees…or not.

So, I broke down and made an appointment for my knee.

I think it’s officially been upgraded from “skinned knee fiasco” to more of a real “knee injury.”

As you may remember, I fell. I wasn’t doing anything exciting; I just fell.

That was three weeks ago.

Now, for the record, I tried to learn to be patient once, but it took way too long so I gave it up.  Maybe I’m not the best judge of how long something is supposed to take.  Still…three weeks seems a bit excessive, no?  It has physically healed on the outside.  The scab has come off.  It’s not infected (that I can tell).  But, I still can’t put any direct pressure on it.

Whenever I talk about my knee, it’s confusing and I need to whip out the whiteboard and draw diagrams.  If I say, “I can’t put any pressure on it,” that implies that I can’t walk on it.  That’s not true.  I can.  Going up and down stairs still hurts a little, but that’s not what I’m talking about.  I can’t get on my knees without there being excruciating pain.

This puts a crimp in a lot of what I do during the day.

(Insert horribly inappropriate jokes here…) 

I’m talking about buckling and unbuckling Claire’s car seat, helping Claire put away toys, and giving Claire a bath.

In fact, you’d be surprised at how much I use my knee.

So, it’s been three weeks.  That’s too long.  Tomorrow, I get to meet our new doctor and have him tell me that there’s nothing wrong with it.

I hope.