Having an old car taught me about cars because I had to constantly get it fixed. So, I learned about break-lines and shocks and, unfortunately, gas leaks. Granted, I didn’t need too much education about that last one. Learning about something because it’s breaking down is how I feel about my body these days.
I didn’t know much about neurology when I had foot drop but I learned. Now I’m learning about my hip joints. Apparently, I have something called a pincer lesion. In the ball and socket joint of my hip, my socket has a bit too much bone. All of my running is causing the cartilage to get irritated.
I’m really worried that I’ll never be able to run again. Why do I think that? Because I googled this stuff and found an article by a woman who had to stop running because of this.
It’s rare that I write when I’m actively scared about something in the moment but that’s where I am right now. The question isn’t whether I’ll ever run again or not, the question I have right now is, why am I like this?
Why do I have to look up and imagine the worst things about a scenario?
My therapist says that it’s about control. If I’m in a situation where I don’t know the outcome, I can imagine and prepare for every single possible outcome so I won’t be surprised. The problem is, it doesn’t work that way. I imagine every single outcome and then worry about the ones that I can’t eliminate.
It’s exhausting.
Bodies are so damn weird. They’re just meat machines. And like all machines, they wear down with use. Cars. Computers. Lawnmowers. Boilers. MP3 players. They all break down. Last month my stove stopped working because I needed a new part, not sure what it’s called but it ignites the gas in the oven. The guy told me, “I can replace it but once something like this stops working, the rest of the stove is probably not far behind.”
Maybe deep down that’s why I’m scared. Eventually my entire body will stop working. My heart will stop beating. My brain will stop functioning. So, it’s like every imperfection could be the beginning of the end. “You know, once the hip joint goes, the rest of you isn’t far behind.”
I’m getting way ahead of myself. My doctor recommended physical therapy. That’s where I’m going to start.
I have to admit that I feel stupid. I should have known. I should have know that there would be consequences for starting running at the age of 41.
But I should also learn by now that I always go through a catastrophe phase when anything is wrong with me. And, eventually, I get through it. Maybe this will be the time when I don’t. I don’t know. I’ll deal with it then.
Like I was saying, I learned a lot about cars from having a crappy car. The big difference is, when that car got too broken down, I could give it away. I’m stuck with this meat machine for the duration and I hope it’s got a lot more miles on it.
