Rapidly approaching my forties, it was only a matter of time until my first age related injury happened and sure as the sun rises in the morning, I managed to hurt my knee while stepping down from a chair.[1]
Having been to a doctor at least once per year, I know that they will find and subsequently try to solve problems I didn’t even know of. So my decision was clear: stay away from that most suspicious place they call hospital — at all costs!
But after 2-3 weeks of limping around with a supremely painful knee I finally broke down and went to see a demi-god in white.
Plica mediopatellaris dext., c.s.i.
After that bit of Black Speech[2] he told me in no uncertain terms that I need an x-ray, an MRI and probably an operation afterwards.[3]
My mother on the other hand put a bottle of Kwizda’s Restitutions Fluid on my bedside table and told me to rub my knee with it.
This stuff is designed to wash horses! I’m not saying it’s bad[4] — it’s just a little strange to (externally) use medicine designed for animals.
I’m not yet sure what’s worse.
The “real” doctor who shot me with high energy rays (proven to cause cancer), then wants to push me into a giant tube and spin flip my protons to finally cut me open and stir around in my body, or my loving mother who seems to think that I’m a horse in need of a good washing.
This post has been lingering in my draft folder for some time now, but I was too busy to post it before. My knee is fine and I didn’t need an operation