I Must Become a Couch Potato In Order to Survive

The doctor agreed with my original conclusion that it must be a labral tear in my hip. The cushion between the leg and the hip socket has torn. So the leg is now loose and just twisting any which way causing pain, discomfort, and general irritablility.
I’ve got an appointment on Wednesday to see an orthopedic surgeon. Then an MRI, not the normal kind, but some other special one where they inject dye into the hip to see things better. Then either surgery or physical therapy or a combination.
So it looks like the next few months I will be sitting on the couch, not moving, talking to myself. Mom brought over her cane in case I want to use it. And the kids listened for a minute and then went off to be kids again. I thought they’d be horrified to know that I am not indestructable. No one asked if I was going to die. No one wanted to know who was going to take care of them. I was looking for some panic and insecurity. My children feel much too safe and taken care of.
So I guess I’m going to have to find some elderly exercise programs on morning television so I can sit in a chair and wave my arms in circles. Otherwise I’ll be a blimp before this is over. I can still hobble to the kitchen. Maybe it’s time to become friends with Richard Simmons. I never thought I’d be saying that.
But hey, I’ve got a “sports injury” so that makes me cool and athletic. Right?
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