Would Rather Walk

The clinic waiting room was spacious, well-lit and clean. While I waited, I absentmindedly scanned my phone, idly ripped at the skin around my nails, crossed and uncrossed my legs, chewed my gum a little too loudly.

"Erin?"

The staff were efficient; my x-rays taken in no time. All too suddenly, Dr. Barker was there in his white coat holding his laptop, my x-rays a ready file on his desktop, asking me what the trouble with my right knee was.

I had been thinking about this for so long - I wanted to be specific and precise - but, of course, my nature took over and the words came tumbling out.

He gestured to the table, "I have a good idea of what it might be, but lets check a couple of things."

He pressed, flexed, stretched my right leg, then my left for comparison. Everything felt fine but - "There, that hurts?"

I winced. Indeed, it did. He did it again, again, and again. 

"That pain you were feeling, that is actually a small knot there where the muscle connects to the leg bone. So, the good news is I suspect it is IT band friction syndrome," Dr. Barker said cheerfully. "Bad news is...I suspect it is IT band syndrome."

"Better news is, your knees look beautiful." He opened his laptop, my femurs, patellas, tibias and fibulas glowing white in the gray darkness of skin and muscle and blood. 

No running for two to four more weeks, take NSAIDs regularly, ice and stretch, and "Sure, you can walk. And I know you're probably itching to get back, so come see me in a month if you want to try a cortizone injection."

(No thanks, doc.)

I would rather walk my way through this hiccup. I am so glad I can.