Hey, ow

Mar. 2nd, 2011 09:14 am
jayfurr: (Yaaaaaaaagh!)
[personal profile] jayfurr
I went to the gym last night and ran another 5K. I didn't have a noticeable improvement in my ability to maintain a running speed for all 25 laps, but I didn't have to walk any more than I did this weekend. And I finished in 29:57 or so. Still under 30 minutes, but only just.

My left knee was feeling a bit stiff when I finished, but I grabbed my gear and jumped in the car and drove home. When I got home, I had a very rude surprise: my knee hurt. It mainly hurt if I tried to put any weight on it -- if I hopped on my right leg it was mostly okay, but straightening it out and planting weight on my left leg caused no end of "AAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH" moments.

I took ibuprofen and Carole brought me an ice pack, but even after icing it for a half hour it didn't feel better at all. I took a hot bath because I was still sweaty from the run and my knee felt better while in the tub, but then went right back to hurting afterward when I tried to shamble from the tub back to the bedroom.

[livejournal.com profile] caroleotter made the most of the opportunity to mock me, asking if I needed to be taken to the emergency room and stuff. I kept telling her "It'll be fine in the morning." Carole tends to over-dramatize things when she's ill or stiff or sore, no matter how much TLC and help I give her, and on occasion I've had to do the whole "if it hurts so much I guess we'll just have to CUT IT OFF" thing that moms sometimes do.

Unfortunately, she doesn't get that I'm only doing that to gently hint that she's gone, um, above and beyond the call of what's appropriate for a given situation. There's only so much I can do to make her comfortable when she's feeling achy or sick, after all.

So: when the shoe was on the other foot, she thought "Hot damn! Payback time!"

Sigh.

Denouement: my knee feels more or less fine this morning. I can tell that it was sore in that lingering-aftereffect kind of way, but it's certainly nothing I can't walk on. I'm at work and not at the emergency room. Carole (of course) then had to marvel out loud that my knee couldn't have been that bad if it could be all better today.

Some folks just don't have empathy. My dear wife is, unfortunately, one of 'em.


Date: 2011-03-02 06:06 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] caroleotter.livejournal.com
I'm pretty used to your assuming my motives are malicious. I'm not used to you presenting me that way to the entire world.

I really did think you might need to see the doctor this morning. As much pain as you appeared to be feeling, usually indicates a real injury. I didn't think you would need the ER, so okay, I did go overboard with that. But I did think you were really injured and that it wasn't just post-exercise soreness.

Date: 2011-03-02 07:13 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] flaviarassen.livejournal.com
I think there's some miscommunication going on with the 2 of you, because she doesn't sound any less empathetic than you. Just one thought: you have no idea how much pain she might be in, in any given situation. Some people have lower pain tolerance than others. Case in point: I spent most of life not only being tortured by dentists, but mocked (perhaps lightly) by my father for "being so dramatic" when something hurt. Ok, so when he noticed that I bruised in widescreen technicolor, he relented - but it took a specialist to tell me that I have extra-long nerve endings: more pain than the average person.

I also would have been relieved to note that something that seemed so horrific was that much better the next day. OTOH, I tend to panic & suggest the emergency room at the drop of a hat. Possibly coming from a childhood of having a 2nd home in one...

'fessing up...

Date: 2011-03-02 10:18 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] caroleotter.livejournal.com
flaviarassen, thanks for your support.

I guess I was being a little more clueless than empathic last night. There are times when The Snark Is Strong In This One, and one of those times is most evenings after 9 p.m.

I think I was waffling between two theories about Jay's behavior: Either he was hurt really badly, in which case he was being a macho dummy to deny he needed medical attention; or he *wasn't* hurt really badly, in which case he didn't need to be going AAAAARGH quite so loudly. In either case, I guess I decided I needed to snark.

I *was* relieved it was fine in the morning. I was convinced he had something like a torn tendon; I guess it was just a muscle spasm after all.

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