Nov. 29: What was your most embarrassing or scary trip to the doctor?
Preface: I hate myself and think about this visit a lot so thank you BlogHer for bringing it up once again.
I think I may have talked about me injuring my knee on here before but if not… or you’re new to this blog let’s take a trip down memory lane.
When I was a freshman in high school I played on my school’s basketball team. It was more rigorous and intense than my middle school and recreational teams so it took a toll on my left knee. It was always swollen and hurt… a lot.
Fast forward to that following summer. I was playing in my school’s summer league, playing 5-6 basketball games per week and working out on my own. I improperly did a lunge which resulted in a lot of swearing, doctor’s appointments, crutches, etc.
My junior year of high school, my knee still wasn’t 100% but I was determined (or my dad was…) to play varsity basketball. While playing against arguably the best girl on our team, I went up to rebound the ball, as did she, and we both came crashing down, and haha for me, I landed right on my left knee.
That winter, I couldn’t bend my knee, and it hurt to stand on it for any period of time… which made showering quite the task. To keep my showers short and sweet, I decided to not shave for the entire winter. Mainly because I was curious to see how long my hair would be and after not shaving for that first week, it becomes a habit to not.
I went to the doctor so many times that winter and spring… so many. All of my doctors were old men who had definitely seen worse than a girl who didn’t want to shave, or women who totally felt my pain (my leg hair became a topic that ritually came up during physical therapy).
During a trip to visit the orthopaedic surgeon, only for him to tell me that there was nothing physically wrong with me and he had absolutely no idea why my knee looked like a grapefruit and I was in an obscene amount of pain, there was an assistant (I think a resident) doctor who was BY FAR THE MOST BEAUTIFUL HUMAN BEING I HAVE EVER LAID EYES ON (definition tall, dark, and handsome). He came in after the surgeon had looked at my knee so my yoga pants were pulled down, hiding the forest on my leg.
The surgeon told the assistant (Brad) that I would need a shot of cortisone in my knee and that none other than Brad himself would be administering that shot.
Shit, I thought. He will see my leg and my dreams of having a surgeon husband will be gone forever.
WAIT… it get’s worse.
Not only did I need a shot of cortisone in my knee, my knee had to be bent at 90° for the shot to be administered. So, Brad had to spend about 5 minutes bending my knee (it hurt that bad) while holding onto my poodle of a leg, all the while I am crying hysterically telling him to stop because of how bad it hurt. Once my calf was finally perpendicular to my thigh, Brad gave me my cortisone shot (I am still bawling by the way), gave me an empathetic look before leaving, never to be seen again. Also, cortisone is supposed to relieve pain and I can say, without a doubt, it did not work. So, Brad had to see my hairy leg AND my ugly crying face for no reason whatsoever.