The doctor broke the news. I have arthritis in my knees.
These were his exact words. "When I looked at your photo in your chart I thought, 'Wow, she's really young to have arthritis.' But then I looked at your age and saw that you're 50."
I'm sure there's a compliment in there. Somewhere. Sort of.
But let me back up. Sunday, we spent the afternoon at a resort with my sister and her family. The grown-ups chatted by the pool while the cousins played in the water. As we were relaxing in the sun, I noticed that my right knee felt weird. It looked weird too. By the time we got home that night, my right knee had swollen to twice the size of the left one.
Monday afternoon, I sat in the doctor's office and received the bad news. Arthritis. The reason my knees have been clicking and making crunchy sounds for the past few years. But not the reason for my current injury. The doctor suspects I have a torn meniscus, although it will take an MRI to know for sure.
Doctor: "Tell me exactly what you were doing when you noticed something was wrong with your knee.
Me: "I wasn't doing anything. I first noticed it was hurting as I sat down on a lounge chair out by the pool."
Doctor: "One of those chairs you lie down on?"
Doctor: "Those are really low - do you think you injured your knee when you squatted down lower than normal to climb on the chair?"
I was speechless.
Am I really so old that I can injure my knee by the simple act of sitting down?
Well yes, apparently I am.
We talked about taking care of my knees from here on out. Bummer. One of my bucket list items is to train for and run a race with Julia. It's right up there where walking on the Great Wall of China used to be. You remember how that worked out for me, right?
But I know myself, and one of the best ways to get me to do something is to tell me I can't. So today I'll pop that pain pill and strap on that lovely black knee brace before I head out for my day. But in the back of my mind, I haven't quite surrendered to the bad knees thing yet. Not at all.