We are two gimps
Wednesday night was my company's second week of pre-season double-header co-ed softball games. Ben is playing on the team, too. We never got together to practice, and consequently got our butts kicked pretty badly last week.
This week wasn't too bad, except Ben gave himself "micro tears" in his right quad muscle while running to first base in the first game. I asked him how bad it was after helping him to his feet, and he said that if he still felt the same after the second game, then he "might ask to be taken to the emergency room." Yeah... he absolutely refused to go until I had played through the second game (for which we really gave up a fight before also losing).
We spent some good quality time - a little over three hours - in various stages of waiting at the ER. We didn't know what was wrong, except that any time he moved his leg at all, it caused him excruciating pain. A few people were ushered into the ER from the waiting room who had arrived later than us, which initially gave me a fleeting "hey, wait a minute" thought that was quickly replaced by "their problem must be more severe, yikes, I hope they're okay." We finally got in and the nice doctor gave Ben a prescription for 800 mg tabs of ibuprofen and Loritab for bedtime. Ben's not a big pill popper, so we haven't filled either one. He's been taking 800 mg of ibuprofen, just from the regular containter we had in the cupboard. I need to get more of that today, though.
Why 2 gimps? Well, after we got home and I put Ben to bed in the guest room (so that neither I nor the cats would accidentally touch his leg that night--plus it's a lower bed so he'd have an easier time getting in and out) I went to bed myself. I noticed that my right knee was swollen a little and tender. I've injured that knee before, so I just went to sleep and decided to look at it in the morning.
Yesterday morning it was still tender, but okay. I put out the trash and tried to prevent Ben from doing anything except sitting with ice on his knee while he worked from home, then went to work. By mid-morning, it had swelled up again and was starting to be painful. By the time I got home yesterday evening, it was swollen pretty badly and I laid down to watch some tv with the ice bag on my knee that Ben wasn't using. Gah!
I'm debating spending the copay to go to the regular doctor (no ER for me, thank you). I know that the only solution is RICE (rest, ice, compress, elevate) and gentle exercise when it's healed. Ben is concerned because I don't remember doing anything at the game or after to cause this... and it's been a few years since it bothered me. Who knows. I have to hobble over to the shower and get ready before my coworker picks me up. I have to drive Ben's car home tonight (it's parked at my office parking lot, luckily) because it's still another couple days before he can bend his left leg enough to sit in either one of our cars.
Ben is out for the softball season, though hinted this morning that he might play anyway. Why does man's love of certain sports sometimes supercede his own capability for reason?
