Not The Brightest Bulb In The Bathroom

Ever since deciding that Soccer would be fun and injuring myself after only my second RECREATION GAME, I have been an orthopedic doctor's wet dream. It started with a torn quad, followed by a stress fracture, followed by an injury to something behind the kneecap. I think part of the issue here (ok, all) is that I don't allow any time to heal. I am determined to kill myself through orthopedic injuries...or so it seems.

In true ME fashion, I went running today. That doesn't sound bad until you consider that I was 1) injected INTO MY KNEE with steroids on Monday. It is still swollen and I am supposed to stay somewhat inactive for 10-14 days...after which time I am supposed to see a physical therapist. And 2) was throwing up this morning and carrying a headache that could drop an elephant. No, I don't know why I am so stubborn. I just am.

I didn't run far. I couldn't...my head hurt, my ankle hurt, my knee hurt, and the stupid ass construction crews were blowing so much dust around that it was hard to function. As I headed out the door I am quite certain my husband called me an idiot. I do not blame him. I am now sitting upstairs with ice on my knee trying to choke down ibuprofen without hurling.

Maybe tomorrow I will try something a little easier, like swimming.