Category — Knee

photo by rachelcreative

As much as I loved Thanksgiving—a lot, especially since the dessert table had five pies—it reminded me of a few things I’m not too happy about. And if I can’t whine on this blog, then where can I? Besides, it’s a rainy Monday. That alone deserves a little bit of complaining.

Here’s my gripe: The whole act of getting from Virginia to Massachusetts is humiliating when your knees are lined with chewed-up cartilage. Forget that sitting for an hour and a half on an airplane makes my joints feel like a vice is tightening my insides. The problem is my mode of transportation.

You see, I have to use a wheelchair. No big deal, you say. You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do to heal your knees. That’s what I thought the first time I parked my butt in one. But once you’re in the seat you realize it is a big deal. People look at you differently. Some soften their eyes like they feel bad that someone so young is trapped in a moving chair. Others are accusatory, as if my normal appearance means I’m faking the whole deal in order to skip the line at the Southwest gate. Even if people aren’t thinking I’m a loser, I feel like they are.

Some people tell me not to pay attention to what other people think. It’s easy to say when you’ve never rode a wheelchair. Maybe this is what overweight people feel, as if everyone is noticing their extra pounds and judging them for it. Maybe this is how other people with disabilities—missing limbs, paralysis, or even a limp—feel when they go through the airport. I sympathize with them.

In the end, it makes me feel crummy about my knees, about the fact they’re not fixed yet, and about the prospect of them never being fixed. Since my move, they’ve been sore and easily swollen, and I’m feeling closer to 85 than I am to 27. I fear they’ll never be fixed, that I’ll be wheeling through the airport for the rest of my life.

I’m hoping this feeling will pass, but for now, how do you get over hopelessness? Do you ever feel humiliated because of your body? What’s your solution?

photo by mtsofan

It’s finally Friday (is it just me, or did this week go really sloooow?), so I’m finishing up work then spending the weekend tackling the massive box-fest that is my living room. If you’re bored at work you have a few spare minutes before your weekend kicks into full swing, check out some stories from around the Web.

I’ve never been a huge fan of pumpkin pie—why bother when pecan’s on the table, too?—but these chocolate chip pumpkin spice bars sound amazing. Plain and simple.

I love this leg-strengthening move that focuses on balance. Just make sure your knee never goes over your toe line as you squat.

I’m no Top Chef, so these kitchen tricks were super helpful. Here’s one: Keep celery fresh for weeks by wrapping it in Tinfoil before putting it in the fridge.

Researchers say exercise can make you less anxious. In my experience, it also reduces stress and ups body image.

If you envy Gwen Stefani’s abs (and, really, who doesn’t?), check out this in-depth interview with her personal trainer. Then whine a bit because you can’t afford a trainer.

photo by the one true b!x

If you’ve never been to a physical therapist, lucky you. That means you’re in pretty good shape. (Wanna share the good fortune with a friend?) In case you recently walked under a ladder, broke a few mirrors, and opened an umbrella in the house, I’ve written this guide to finding and making the most of physical therapy.

What is physical therapy?
The physical therapy (that’s PT in injured-human speak) specialty focuses on injury rehabilitation. The goal of PT is to improve physical functioning, like walking up a flight of stairs for someone with a meniscus tear, swinging a tennis racket for someone with shoulder tendonitis, or writing with a pen for someone with a hand fracture.

What does a physical therapist do?
Physical therapists are trained in the musculoskeletal system and will diagnose and treat injuries and muscle imbalances. A therapist’s toolbox includes exercise, physical manipulation (nothing crazy here; think moving a limb to improve range of motion), heat, ice, and some wackier devices—more on those later.

Where can you find a physical therapist?
Chances are, if you’re in enough pain to need a physical therapist, you’re in enough pain to visit a doctor. And though most states don’t require you get a doctor’s note before signing up for PT (my second didn’t need a scrip, my last did), it’s a good idea to see your doctor beforehand. Many will have a list of preferred therapists they work with and trust—mine did. Some physical therapists work in doctor’s offices or hospitals, and others work out of private practices or gyms.

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photo by T. Scott Carlisle

In the middle of packing, moving, re-painting, and cleaning my apartment, I imagined my Monday post like this:

Hi all, Superhuman Tracey here. Just stopping by to tell you that I worked my butt off this weekend, moved my life to the new apartment, and didn’t feel any knee pain! Off to do some unpacking and furniture arranging.

Things started well enough: Thanks to super-helpful family members, we were able to move the entire apartment in a day, paint three bedrooms back to bland taupe in a weekend, and unpack our whole kitchen. I, of course, didn’t lift a single box—hey, I had strict orders from The Man!

But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t active in other ways. I helped my mom paint our old apartment, which meant I was up and down about 5 gazillion times. Plus, since the elevator was hauling boxes, I climbed and descended three flights of stairs. Add a little unpacking on my feet, slamming my knee into a box—twice—carrying a somewhat heavy bag to the new apartment, and stepping up and off of a chair a dozen times and you’ll see why I’m not as cheery today as I had imagined.

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photo by jill

Happy Friday the 13th, all. I have a big weekend of moving ahead of me, and plenty of leftover packing to do tonight. While I work up a sweat, check out these links from around the Web:

Next time you’re feeling down, try eating some of these mood-boosting foods.

Learn whether it’s absolutely necessary to cool down after a workout–or if you can skip that final step.

My favorite kind of study: Chocolate can tame stress.

Jennifer Garner’s trainer shares four quirky breakfast ideas.

I wish I read this last week when my chest was riled up: seven foods that can halt heartburn.

Have a good weekend!

It’s been a little over a week and a half since I posted about the state of my knees. There’s a reason for that. (Hint: It’s not because they’re doing so amazingly awesome I have nothing left to write about.) Nope, I just don’t feel like dealing with them. I’m sick of having bad knees. I’m sick of sitting around all weekend instead of going for a hike or shopping or cleaning my entire apartment from top to bottom. I’m sick of sitting on the counter to make dinner instead of standing over the stove like one of those normal humans. I’m also sick of making The Man—and my mother, who flew down from New England yesterday—box the entire place up in preparation for our move. Oh, and on Saturday, I’m going to be tired of sitting around while our volunteer movers cart away heavy loads my junk. Sigh.

But, alas, this is a blog about my knee pain and (cross your fingers, will ya?) recovery. Plus, I don’t want to kick myself next time I get PRP and start getting all neurotic about my recovery and whether I’m on schedule or whether I’m behind and thus doomed to gimpdome. I need these entries to look back on, which is why, without further stalling hesitation, I’m giving an update:

As of this Friday, it’s been five weeks since I got my latest round of PRP. I’m impressed that this time I haven’t been counting off the weeks like a six-year-old anticipating Christmas. The good news is that the leftover pain from the injections went away a couple weeks ago. The bad news is that my knee doesn’t feel any different than it did pre-PRP. Oh, and it doesn’t feel any better than my PRP-free knee.

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photo by Todd Ehlers

If you’ve ever dealt with pain for any extended amount of time, you know how alluring alternative treatments become. By the time I had been in and out of physical therapy twice, I was willing to try just about anything to cure my knee pain.

It’s true. One day, The Man came home from work with a brand spankin’ new energy necklace that was supposed to zap bad ions and rearrange your energy or something crazy. According to the package, it was supposed to make you as strong, fit, and healthy as the baseball player whose cutout capped off the aisle. (The Man’s a sucker for anything baseball related.) At first, I scoffed at the magic necklace. Ha! This can’t shuffle your ions. You got scammed!

Pretty soon, though, I started wrapping the necklace around my thigh. Just in case, you know? And guess what: It didn’t do a thing. But I was so desperate to heal that I figured I’d give it a try.

I was reminded of this when I read a recent study that said copper bracelets and magnetic wristlets don’t relieve arthritis pain. Researchers at the University of York tested the devices on 45 people age 50 or older who had osteoarthritis in a randomized, controlled trial. The participants wore four different bracelets—two magnetic bands, a copper bracelet, and a demagnetized strap—for 16 weeks each. They found no difference in pain and stiffness reduction or improvements in physical function among the four devices.

“It appears that any perceived benefit obtained from wearing a magnetic or copper bracelet can be attributed to psychological placebo effects,” says lead author Stewart Richmond of the Department of Health Sciences at the University of York. “People tend to buy them when they are in a lot of pain, then when the pain eases off over time they attribute this to the device. However, our findings suggest that such devices have no real advantage over placebo wrist straps that are not magnetic and do not contain copper.

The bottom line: The bracelets won’t cure you, but they won’t hurt you either. Well, maybe your wallet.

So, what alternative therapy have you tried? Has it worked?

Another day, another headache. Since I’m going on day six of splitting pain, and since too much thinking might cause my head to explode, here’s some news from around the Web.

Despite my headache, I was able to scarf down some mini candy bars this Halloween. And since not a single kid came knocking at our door, I’ve been picking from the pot all weekend. I think my sweet tooth’s had enough. Now I’m craving something savory, like Double Broccoli Quinoa (minus the garlic, of course).

The treadmill is not my friend. But I’d love to test out one of these anti-gravity treadmills that lessen the impact on joints like banged up knees.

Note to self: Next time you feel like quitting a workout before you’re really done, remember the mind-over-matter technique elite athletes use. Feel bad you’re such a wuss. Get on with your regularly scheduled exercise.

Happy reading. I’ll be back tomorrow with a (hopefully) renewed mind.

Yesterday, in a comment to my post, Tomas Anthony of Everyday Athlete made a good point about the way our bodies work. It’s advice I wish someone had told me back when I was 22 and sprightly and durable. But I’m not holding a grudge against those good-for-nothing docs who whipped me in and out of their offices faster than you can say malpractice. Really, I’m not.

But, the point. Right. Our bodies aren’t a bunch of independent parts that happen to share a few important organs. It’s more like a string of Christmas lights that works as a whole—and when one light burns out, the entire string is kaput. The next step is infuriating: inspecting the strand one bulb at a time until you discover which shorted out first. You probably have a clue which body part gave up first (for me, the throbbing pain in my knees was a dead giveaway), but finding other culprits is a little trickier.

Here’s something I knew yesterday: My legs always have been weak. As a teen, I rarely (read: never, ever) worked out, so any muscle mass was from general horsing around. Since I started physical therapy—that’s PT to you—I’ve focused on strengthening my quad muscles so they bulge in a Lance Armstrong kind of way. I have special exercises to strengthen my inner and outer thighs, and work my hamstrings every other day.

But I think I’ve neglected my butt.

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photo credit: tranchis

I have a case of the Mondays. As if going back to work after a too-short weekend weren’t bad enough, there’s The Question. “What’d you do over weekend?” For people (like me) who limp around in pain every day, the weekend is a time to finish weekday chores left undone thanks to aches and pains. But that’s no fun to hear about, so I keep my weekend recaps vague. “Oh, not much,” I’ll answer instead of giving a play-by-play on how I did three (count ’em: three) loads of laundry on Sunday.

Today, the answer was modified a little: Oh, I just went apartment hunting. Just went apartment hunting? Just went? It’s more like: I had a huge weekend and pushed myself more than I have all month. I went apartment hunting!

The thing is, for the average person, that’s a boring weekend chore. A huge weekend is something like scaling a mountain or shopping for six hours straight or going to a concert. It’s climbing Mount Kilimanjaro barefoot while juggling bowling pins lit on fire. All right, maybe not that crazy.

So as pathetic as I feel for saying this was a big weekend, it was. My husband and I went to see six apartments in two days, standing in the elevator, walking around each unit, strolling to the garages and mail rooms and business centers until I could barely stand. I think I even heard my knees plead with me, Pleeeease … Just pick one!

In the end, I’m not sure if this was a good knee weekend or bad. My knees were screaming, but would they have been screaming more without the PRP treatment? Or are they hurting more because of the PRP? The world may never know.

Finally, as you may have guessed—at least I hope you’re perceptive enough to have guessed—we’re moving. That’s right, we’re packing it all up and moving out from under the giant beast that lives upstairs. No, he will not be missed. How we’re going to deal with all of the packing and moving (without giving my husband a hernia) is still a mystery to me (though my mother’s signed on as Moving Man No. 1). I’ll keep you posted as the move gets closer.