The Ankle

I'm a little screwed up sometimes....

Now that we've got that out of the way, let me tell you all a story.

Since as far back as I can remember I've always considered myself to have a pretty high pain tolerance. Now I'm not one of those crazy guys that goes out trying to get his ass kicked every weekend just to prove how tough he is. The way I see it, you shouldn't expend that much energy unless you wrassling with a chica, and getting your nose dirty shouldn't involve concrete or asphalt.

I blame this on my older brother...you see we didn't always have or accept the father figures in our lives. Now that's our business, but what is your business is that a lot of times, whether he knew it or not, he was a male authority figure in my life...someone I looked up to...someone that I tried to be like. One of the things that my brother would always tell me, was that I had to be tough...take the pain...quit crying...don't' tell mom...wait a minute...and its something that has stuck with me....it has stuck to the point that I actually have a fear of going to the doctor and him telling me that nothing is wrong. Crazy heh?

So anyway, about 8 years ago I jumped off a porch and rolled my ankle pretty bad. Like I said, I think I'm a pretty tough guy,and more importantly I evidently want other people to think I'm a pretty tough guy, so I got up and walked it off. It might have helped that I was drunker than nine Indians on pay day. So I get up, walk it off, walk around, walk all night and eventually end up at home...the next morning I wake up and think that Cathy Bates must have taken a sledge to my ankle. It was huge, purple, and hurt like a sonofabeech. Well, about 6 weeks later I decided that I might need to go to the Doctor. It was still pretty sore, and swollen, and purple...So I go and he takes some x-rays and he tells me basically that he thinks I broke a small bone or two in my ankle, but they have since started to heal to some extent. He then tells me that I have two choices...he can re break the ankle, or he can give me some medicine to help the swelling and that it'll probably bother me when I'm older. So I ask the first questions that pops in my head, "how would you re break it?"

"with a hammer" he replies

"Fuck You" I think out loud.

Besides that, he says that it'll bother me when I'm older and to the 20 year old me that has to be like 40 0r 50 or older.

So here I sit 8 years later.

My ankle has been bothering me off and on for the last year or so. Sometimes I can function as normal, and sometimes it hurts so bad I can't walk. A few weeks ago I was walking through our yard at work...nobody around, nothing around, nowhere to go...and my ankle hurts so bad I can't walk. I was just standing there...thinking of crawling...but refusing to because I have to take the pain. I hobbled in the office and finally decide to call the doc.

Well I go to the Doctor and he looks at my foot and goes, "yeah, ummm humm...and you say it hurts where...and when...and does it hurt if I push here...." and I can tell this dude doesn't have a clue what's going on inside me foot...but he does write me a order to go get x-rays which entitles me to be covered by my insurance.

So I go to the X-ray...and then the old fear hits me. What if there is nothing wrong? What if I'm just a big ole puss? (you fuckers that call yourselves my friends better not comment on that) What if they find that its all in my head? Then wouldn't you freaking know...I get a call from the Doc saying they couldn't see anything on the X-ray..."Well, fuck me...I am a puss"...then he tells me he wants to do a MRI because he feels it'll show what's bothering me. I'm thinking he just wants to get as much money as he can before he tells me I'm a puss.

Well, I get the MRI...partly because I just wanna see what its like...and partly because I'm hoping there is something wrong with me (crazy I tell Ya)

Let's shorten the story...got the MRI results back...WOO HOO...I've got fluid in the joints, fluid in the tendon sheathing (did you know you had tendon sheathing?) damage to some bone, tears on something or other...and best of all...I wasn't just making it up...

Crap, I wasn't just making it up...and evidently 28 is old (according to the Doc)

So I'm going to the some other doctor tomorrow...see what the next step is (no pun intended there) and where I need to go...I'll let you know

by the way...for those of you who know the other place I write stuff...well there is some other stuff there.

until next time....