Yup, that's what I'm gonna call it

I sucked it up and went to my follow up appointment with the orthopaedic last night.  I am not really sure why I went, but, I did. 

I didn't get there early, I got there at my appointment time, 5:15PM.  I got checked in, and sat in the waiting room.  I read about all the ways to make my house look like a million bucks without spending that much, founds gifts for under $50 {somehow they don't get much cheaper than $49.99}, and looked at tablescapes that my kids could have put together, but, which some expensive decorator beat them to arranging.  Being the Gleek that I am, I was forced to read Seventeen magazine for the first time since I was, well, a teenager, and tried to remember that the questions in the Q&A are probably considered 'hard-hitting' for the target audience, which I am certainly not.

As I looked around for something more to read, I heard my name called by the nurse who mocked me last week.  This time, she was donning kid-friendly print scrubs in a fun array of pinks, with her hair pulled back in a messy bun on the back of her head. 

In an ill attempt to make small talk and sound like she knows what she's talking about, she asked me how I'm feeling, to which I replied 'better than last week'.

He'll be in in a minute, Hon.  

Hon?  Now we're on 'honey' terms?  Whatevs.

So I grabbed the only magazine in the room and sat on the table with crinkly paper.  And I waited.

I read about "The New Oprah" {for the life of me I can't recall who it is}, great products for my skin, and ways to beat stress. 

Waiting for a doctor isn't on that list.

Finally, he enters the room. 

This time, he looks me in the eye and offers me his hand for a firm shake.  Thankfully, he didn't try to insult me with the 'finger shake'.  You know, they see you are a woman and assume they'll break you if they actually take your whole hand in theirs for a real hand shake, so instead, they gently take your fingers and pretend to respect your strength, or implied {by gender} lack thereof.

I digress.

He asks me how I am this week, and I tell him, "Better than last week, but, still some discomfort when I walk".

I explain that I've consulted Dr. Internet and found exercises, stretches, and that I even tried some of them the other day, while respecting the injury and not being too aggressive.  I reported my results and the fact that I found relief. 

He nodded.

He started writing.

I'm going to recommend some PT.  We have a good PT group across the hall.  I'm going to say twice a week for three weeks, then I want to see you back here.

{looking at his paper and writing, he says...}

Hip adductor, that's what I'm calling this, I'm going to stay with that.

What, you're not convinced?

Just as I suspected.  Vague.

He takes my lower leg, bends and flexes and turns and moves it, barely.  

Again, and finally, extends his hand for a shake, see you in three weeks.

I don't think so.

Time to get back on the horse, slowly, and get to work with gentle stretching and strengthening. 

I'm going to start a core class, stretch at home, get back on the road a mile or two at a time, and gently reenter the life I have missed for two weeks.  

I've got some running to do.