As I get ready to head to yet another doctor to try to help me figure out what is causing this…this…F-ing injury (for lack of a better word), my frustration level is rising. This will be my third Dr. to look at the mystery leg since February.
The first doctor I went to told me with a shrug to “just stop running”. Didn’t tell me why, didn’t tell me what she thought it was, and shook her head when I asked for an MRI, saying, “you probably have tendinitis, just stay off of it. Probably you shouldn’t bike either.”
Right. You all know how far I took that crappy piece of medical advice. The fact that she acted so blase about it really bugged me – she didn’t realized she was practically asking me to give up my soul.
So I went elsewhere. With a similar response, saying, “Must be tendinitis somewhere in there.” I asked where exactly (posterior tibial? Achillies? I wanted details!), and how could he tell from across the room without even looking at my calf. I was told, “Umm, it could be in a few spots”.
Huh. That was not helpful at all, thanks. Apparently all the doctors who got a D in medical school choose to work in Somerset County, Maine. This Dr. was happy to send me to physical therapy at least. I was joyous – thinking I was getting a chance to go to someone who would actually help.
The PT took some flexibility, strength, and balance measurements. I was pretty sure we were going to get somewhere. She told me that very first day, and I quote:
“Tendinitis is often a crap diagnosis, it is often what Dr.’s say when they are not sure what it is.”
I thought, sweet, lets figure this thing out – this is a chick I can work with! By the 15th PT session in about 3 weeks without a clear idea of what was causing my pain, without any measurement of anything since the first day I was there, the leg was getting worse. I asked her what she thought it was, she said (and again, I quote):
“Ummm. Probably some form of tendinitis.”
Great. Another specific medical professional. Running was becoming tough, and so I did what any
tried and true bullheaded endurance person would do. I waited a few weeks and ran a marathon on it.
Guess what? It still hurts. Weird, right? Who knew that running 26.2 on an injured leg wouldn’t make it miraculously heal.
Self massage with The Stick, Advil, tennis ball, Advil, and foam roller help, but now the pain is moving to different parts of my lower leg and calf, making the issue really hard to describe. Yesterday on my ride, I decided that I was going to not worry so much about the run for a while, and just become the best damn hill climber I can be. That was just before my knee started getting this sharp, stabbing pain just under the knee cap (for the first time ever on my bike).
What the hell is going on?
So having switched Dr.’s again (do we have a winner folks?), I called a different doctor in a new county. I am getting ready to make the drive to see the new guy who specializes in “preventative medicine, fitness, exercise and family medicine”. I picked him partially because of his claim to be a fitness/exercise guy, but mostly because he looks a bit like Amby Burfoot in his picture, so I am pretty sure he is a runner (how about that logic?)
This place is about 75 minutes away. When you live in Caratunk, everything is an hour and 15 minutes away, except the bar. If this thing doesn’t get better soon, I am going to be frequenting that bar a bit more often.