Do You Really Want to Know The Answer to That Question? Part 1

This is part one of a three part post. Don't freak out until you read part 3. Also, if you don't have an hour and a half, wait until you do. This is really long.


Part I: The Doctor

What I’ve been thinking the last few weeks: “Will doing a marathon in May, hiking Kilimanjaro in August, and finishing an Ironman in November do permanent damage to my knees?”

Before I get to the answer…I am known for being a planner. I’m the one who figures out the logistics for trips, races, plans events, works through worst-case scenarios and makes a plan of action. I’ve been looked to as the one with the master plan for others to follow. I imagine every possibility and make a plan for each just in case. Is that a mountain in front of me? Yes? Well, I need to get through, so I’ll climb it, walk around it, tunnel through it, dig under it, fly over it, magically teleport around it, whatever it takes for me to get where I want to be.

I went to the Orthopedist on Friday. (The day before the Rumpass Oly.) I had quite a few referrals from the team, but I chose this one based on two recommendations and reading his bio. He’s a runner, specializes in treating triathletes, and is known for telling you yes when other doctors have said no. He understands the mindset of an athlete and our need to keep moving despite our pain. I felt like he would understand my goals for the year and get straight to the diagnosis rather than giving me the surprised look, the once over at my size, and then the doubt flash before the oh-sure-you’re-doing-those-things face. (It’s happened twice to me in the past few doctor visits.)

I talk with the doctor. I get some x-rays. I wait. He comes in and does some more poking and prodding going straight for the pain points. The x-rays show him exactly where to push.

Diagnosis: Arthritis. Mild bordering on moderate based on x-rays, moderate to severe if he were to actually go in and look. Several bone spurs growing too.

What to do: Stop running.

Enter the 5 stages of emotional response to bad news. (Totally made up, but I think it flows nicely.)

Stage 1: Numbness
WHAT? No running?! This coming from the guy who doesn’t say that stuff? It’s all a bit of a blur from here, but this is what I hear: No running. Not ever. No therapy, no fixing it, no pushing through the pain. Nothing. I have the knees of a 58-year-old-woman. Bad genes. No hiking. No running. You’ll be an awesome biker and swimmer. You can’t do much about it. No running. You’re done. Try aqua-jogging.

Stage 2: Incredulity (or Really?! SERIOUSLY?! Seriously.)
At this point I am in tears and the doctor has switched over to doctor-objectivity mode, all facts, no emotion and says “It’s a bad idea to run tomorrow. I would not recommend it.” I really, really cannot believe that I hadn’t thought this possibility through. I’m surprised that I’m taking it this hard. I never thought that someone would tell me that I couldn’t run. It never, ever, not once occurred to me that he would tell me I couldn’t run ever again.

Stage 3: Bargaining
Doctor: “You probably shouldn’t do the marathon either.”
Me: “How about I just do the half?”
Doctor: “Didn’t you say you barely made it 10 miles and had to walk the last 2 in significant pain on your last run?”
Me: “Uh…
Doctor:
Me: “What if I walk?”
Doctor: “Really not a good idea.”
Me: “What if I skip the marathon and just do the hike and IM?”
Doctor: “Marathons are a really, really bad idea.”
Me: “What if I totally ignore your advice and do whatever I want to do anyway?”
Doctor: “Plenty of people have…”
Me: a flash of a smile
Doctor: “…and have come back and said, you were right.”
Me: back to tears

Stage 4: Desperate Thinking
The mountain has been thrown in front of me and I’m racing to find a way past it. I’m trying to think of all the questions I can possibly ask. What if this, what if that, how about I, what if I don’t. Ok, time to focus. What is the plan? What do I do from here? How can I continue on my path? Is there a recovery? Should I do PT? Should I lift weights? What are the options? Surgery? Shots? Knee reconstruction? Rip the suckers out and give me new ones. The doctor was very patiently listening to all of my questions and quite honestly, I can’t remember most of the answers.

Stage 5: Logical Planning
Here begins the tough part. I’ve let it soak in the past few days and am slowly coming up with a plan.

1. Take the anti-inflammatories I was prescribed. I had fluid build-up in my knees from a run I did three weeks ago. That’s not good. (Fluid builds up as a natural response to trauma in the joints.)
2. Don't run the Rumpass Oly. (I didn't even walk it.)
3. No Flying Pig marathon. I’m pretty bummed about it, but it’s not my A race. I really wanted to do it only so I could feel what it would be like from 5pm to midnight on November 20, 2011.
4. I’m going to see the doctor in a month and reevaluate what to do. This time I will have a list of questions to ask and make sure I take notes on all the answers.
5. Take things one step at a time. (Easier said than done on crappy old-lady knees.) But aside from skipping the marathon, which I’m not prepared for anyway, I’m not making any decisions on other races.
6. Go to a magic physical therapist and see if she can make me better. (I already have one in mind.)
7. Get a second opinion and reevaluate my options.

Part 2