The Doctor Call

Friday I had my MRI and tonight my doc called. I think he knew I was severely impatient to find out the prognosis as it was a surprise to get a call from GHC at 8:30 at night. I guess that is just the kind of care that you can expect from a bike racing physician's assistant. (Yes, Brazen Dropout Jon Bohman has been overseeing my sad prognosis).
Anyway, as they say, no news is good news . . . and if it weren't for bad luck I wouldn't have any luck at all.

If you can't tell from my lame platitudes, it looks like surgery is in my future. Jon said words like cruciate ligament and tear and meniscus injury and the medial collatoral ligament . . . and my favorite phrase -- orthopedic surgeon. Given that I heard a popping noise emanate from my knee three times this wasn't unexpected but still I live in a world of huge DENIAL. Have I mentioned my irrational phobia of doctors and that fact that I like them to keep about a two foot distance from me???That may be difficult in the coming days. I will find out even more about my impending fate tomorrow when I go to UW Sports Medicine.

After that you can expect to find me downing many a margarita at Pasquals on Monday night . . . it is half-price night but it might just be two for one night for me. My knee is screwed up enough that if I get drunk and fall over I don't think I can do much more damage.