a Taj MuttHall Dog Diary: There Is No Joy in Mudville

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

There Is No Joy in Mudville

SUMMARY: Crappy knee crap crap crap.

(from email to agility friends:)
Whine whine whine.

I saw my physical therapist again today and she conceded that the knee is much less swollen than Thursday but said she doesn't see how I think I'll be ready to compete by Haute Dawgs (well, she didn't say "Haute Dawgs" but I'm condensing) on Oct 7-8 since it is still somewhat swollen and it still is painful when I do things like, oh, say, turn suddenly. Like move to get out of the driver's seat of my car. I'm sure that if I were doing agility, the adrenaline would completely mask any possible pain I might experience. I tried to convince her that Haute Dawgs is a whole 11 days from now, but for some reason she has the illusion that she knows more about injuries than I do. I am very not happy at the moment. VERY not happy.

If it's really arthritis like the first doctor after Haute TRACS I saw said it was (and like a dummy I just accepted the instructions to ice & rest & just left and didn't ask for x-rays or therapy or orthopedist), then how much does it really matter whether it's still swollen and sore because it'll ALWAYS be like that, dammit. I'm kicking myself for not insisting sooner on pursuing the injury, but it got mostly better so quickly that time, that I just let it ride being generally uncomfortable and a little painful all the time as long as it wasn't bad. In fact, it was great while I was nursing my twisted ankle, which tells me something but I'm not sure what yet. But then, pow, at VAST, I don't think I did anything different, but my knee thought I did and it's just a mess for no apparent reason. NOW I've got physical therapy and an appointment with an orthopedist and x-rays. Sigh.

Anyway, I'm suffering major bummification at the moment and am just ranting. I really need the practice with both dogs before the Nationals. I certainly don't want to miss the Nationals, but without staying right on top of things, I'm afraid I won't do even as well as I was afraid I wouldn't do without it. If you catch my rather convoluted drift.

And everyone tells me that I should be listening to my doctor or, yes, my physical therapist. I tell you, it's a conspiracy. The light tone notwithstanding, I am more than a little despondent.

Now, should I get the car out to drive the 2 blocks to the neighborhood association meeting, or walk? Surely it can't be any farther than how far I ended up walking to pick up the therapeutic bouncy ball at Target that my physical therapist sent me out for earlier today, which was a way tremendous amount of walking. Hm. Hm.

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