Door Number Two

Today's orthopedist was a young, upbeat guy, totally down with my running. He was confident I could marathon again. My regular ortho had recommended three fixes:

A. Stick a bone plug in the pothole.

B. Bleed a nearby bone in order to grow new cartlidge.

C. Replace the knee.

Today's ortho felt B held the best chance. Pro athletes have utilized this procedure and returned to action. Of course, my age remains a factor, but I feel it's worth a go. My knee would remain immobile for six weeks, then perhaps three months of physical therapy, then three months of light running. I'd be looking at late '09, early '10 before I could train - provided everything worked.

I shall explore further.

Perspective

Skipped my pool workout due to all-encompassing fatigue. Seeing another orthopedist tomorrow. Even if he's a gung-ho guy with a red hot procedure that will get me running in two months, I'd still have to acquire new health care to pay for it.

Saw my friend Dale yesterday. His cancer has spread from the colon to the hip. Right now, he's fighting over whether or not to keep fighting. His intestines have been operated on so many times that his stomach muscles have lost their snap, leaving him a sagging pot belly cross-hatched with scars. I think he'd swap all that for a bum knee any time.

So on to ortho #3.

Just a Reminder

Here's where I want to be:

Oops

Overdid it yesterday. My knee's been sore all afternoon. Did some core work today. I'll probably chill training-wise over Easter weekend and start back swimming on Monday. 

I downloaded a 5K training schedule. I'm going to convert the workouts into aqua runs and see if that makes aqua running more interesting. I ran "ladders" in the pool the other day and it made the time fly. Maybe there's a maritime marathon I can sign up for.   

This guy has some good aqua running scoop.

Doc Smith Weighs In

Called Dr. Smith about my knee. He recommended an ortho who happens to run. That might help. Doc Smith said there's a procedure that injects fluid into "potholes" much like Dap seals wall cracks. I'll give the new guy a try next week and see what he thinks about Dap. 

Swam today, then ran three miles. A wee bit of tenderness in the knee, but no pain. I ran, then walked whenever I felt, going by feel. It's nice to run even a little.

Forward

I've got feelers out to another orthopedist, I'm researching the injury, and I ran today. Not far or fast, but pain-free. I'll take it slow and let the knee be my guide. 

A lawyer friend of mine knows a pro-basketball referee whose familiar with the sport's clinic all the Lakers use. There's about six degrees of separation in that connection, but mayhap I can obtain a contact to whom I'll send my MRI report and garner some treatment info. 

Sport's docs. I need a sport's doc. When you describe your passion for a sport to a doctor, who then says, 'Can't you do something else?', then you know you're dealing with the wrong guy.

Speaking of sports medicine, there's the most noble Dr. Smith of Pasadena. If nothing else, I should ask him his opinion. 

Trail's End?

Seven months and finally man, MRI and MD met in the same room. To begin - no meniscus tears; ACL, PCL and collateral ligaments were intact. Cruciate ligaments were intact and my patellar facets appeared especially well-preserved.

However I had a focal osteochondral injury or lesion. The doctor called it a "pothole" in my knee, the result of bone erosion. No idea how long it's been there or even if running was the cause. However it's there now. He mentioned three cures, but all would necessitate not running any more. I'm free to run or walk now, but all such activity will continue eroding the pothole. Since I'm not in anything like steady discomfort, the doctor suggested leaving the pothole alone, and, when the pain eventually picked up, selecting from the cure hat trick.

A most curious state. I'm going to have to have a procedure done eventually and so the temptation is to use up the knee while I still can. But I'm sort of numb and need to take time to let all this sink in.

I have no passion for any other sport.

Within the MRI

In the film Soylent Green, the world is an overpopulated dystopia. In one scene, actor Edward G. Robinson discovers an appalling secret and decides life isn't worth living. So he checks into the neighborhood suicide center. There he's given a lethal beverage, placed on a couch in a darkened room with his choice of classical music, and slowly dies.

That scene kept running through my head during the MRI. When the technician slid me into the machine, my head looked up at an array of lights and LED readouts, counting down, resetting, counting down again. Whirrs, clicks, extended buzzes sounded from the machine while the surface I rested on moved subtly forward and back. Throughout, I wore head phones pumping my ears full of New Age and World music: soothing Celtic tunes, steel drums, very relaxing. (They're going to kill me!)

But I survived just fine and now await word from the orthopedist. In the meantime, I'm meeting TNT chums on Monday at the pool. They train for a triathalon, while I train. But watery misery loves company, so it should be fun.   

MRI Update

Tomorrow evening. Yeee-ha!

Swam today. For some reason the lanes seemed smaller than usual. Did a few laps, then lengths for 35 minutes, then aqua ran for 45. My arms were heavy at the end. Stay in the pool and get better. Chlorine tires me out. I want to nap once I get home. And eat. But not at the same time.

Medical News

The new doc recommended an MRI. He seemed confidant the insurance company would approve. However from approval to scheduling to MRI to meeting the doc again will take six weeks. If surgery is needed, that's another six to twelve weeks. At a minimum, I'm seeing no running until June or July. No walking or hiking either. Swimming pool, thou art my new home.

Speaking of which, I swam today.Did a workout that started with kickboard laps, then freestyle, followed by 45 minutes of aqua running with intervals (aqua fartlek if you will), and a cool down of easy laps. 1:38:09 total.

Next time I run on a dirt trail, I'll have gills.