Patellofemoral Syndrome…

… Is basically fancy medical speak for “your knee hurts, no running or stairs.” Or at least that’s the gist of what the handout that they gave me at the doctor’s office today. And copious amounts of googling. Because nothing makes you feel better about a crappy medical diagnosis than reading all about it on the internet (not!). 

The doctor saw me for less than ten minutes today. He moved my leg around, causing that clicking noise that has been bothering me and checking to see if my knee is stable. The good news is, my knee is stable. The bad news is, when he moved my leg into position, I could feel that cracking sound reverberate all the way up my spine. Hooray for medical tables. 

The even worse news is, there doesn’t appear to be all that much that I can do, except to go to physical therapy and stop running. And avoid stairs. I’m seeing an orthopedist on Monday. Hopefully, he gives me better news. Because the thought of not being able to run has had me on the verge of tears all morning. Not only do I love jogging, I love all sorts of sports that would not work so well if I can’t run. Ultimate frisbee starts up soon and I will not be playing. I’m crossing my fingers that I’ll be better enough to play by the end of the season, but I won’t hold my breath.

I also hadn’t realized how ingrained it was in me to always take the stairs. I literally walked out of the doctors’ office and down the stairs this morning. I was halfway down before I remembered “oh right, they told me not to use the stairs and to take the elevator.” But I was already halfway down, so I thought it would be counterproductive to walk all the way back up to the elevator. So I kept going, one painful stair at a time.  You’d think that I would have learned my lesson, but I forgot to take the escalator in my T station not twenty minutes later.

I are smart. Very smart.

I’m kindof blown away at how upsetting this is to me. I mean, I was scared that they were going to send me home on crutches. So, in the grand scheme of things, I got off easy with a splint. And it is a very sexy black neoprene splint. My sister joked that it’s bondage gear for my knee. I’m just not used to having any physical limitations and I’m terrified that I’ll have to go through life not able to be as active as I’ve been. A large part of my identity is tied up in athleticism and physicality. I’m the girl that runs everywhere. I’m the girl that always takes the stairs. I am NOT the girl that waits by the elevator to go down one flight of stairs.

That’s not me.

But it looks like it’s going to have to be me.

At least for a little while.