One Small Trip For Woman...

...one giant pain-in-the-ass leg for me.  Back in August, I took yet another tumble of the deck at the lake.  The result was a lovely bruise that left me limping for a few weeks.  I figured it would eventually go away and it probably would have if I hadn't taken up the physically demanding sport of Baby and Me swimming.  Yes, you read that correctly - Baby and Me swimming.  It is a very dangerous sport.

Katelyn and I signed up for a swimming class at the local pool.  Katelyn sits in a little, floating boat while I bounce around the pool, doing modified aquasize.  Sounds safe enough, right?  Not so much.  I was halfway through my lap of doing underwater high kicks when I felt something *pop* in my lower left calf (right where my leg was bruised).  The pain was fairly bad, but I persevered.  It wasn't until I got out of the pool that the extent of the pain was brought to my attention.  That night, the pain was so severe that I couldn't sleep.

Me being me, I pushed the pain aside and continued to limp for the next three weeks.  During that time, the original bruise started to creep around the back of my leg and there was a large bump starting to form on the inner part of my calf.  Last week, when the bruise started to get darker instead of lighter, I figured it was time to get things checked out.

Turns out, I've been limping around on a badly torn calf muscle for the last month.  The fall off the deck was the instigator and the swimming (for whatever reason) was the culprit.  My doc had barely touched my leg when he assessed it as a torn muscle.  He wrote me a referral to see a private physiotherapist because I couldn't afford to wait 4-6 weeks to see a regular one.  We needed to start repairing the damage before it was permanently set.

The only other time I've been to a physiotherapist was 12 years ago when I pinched a nerve in my shoulder.  All the physio consisted of was buddy giving me some stretching and exercises to do at home.  I figured this would be the same thing.  But I was wrong.  So very, very wrong.

Pat, the physiotherapist, is a super friendly, funny woman.  She started off by telling me not to kick her in the face because I wasn't going to like what she was about to do.  She "massaged" my leg (and I use that term very loosely) to assess where exactly the damage lay.  I was more than surprised when she started touching points behind my knee and the pain was so bad, I was ready to round-house her (the majority of the damage is lower leg).  Apparently, my entire calf is more or less f@#ked.

The physio consisted of the not-so-gentle massage, followed by ultrasound therapy and then a gentle massage.  My leg felt so loose and relaxed, I was amazed that, for the first time in two months, I could walk normally.  But by the end of the day, I could feel my leg tightening up again.  As I typed this a day later, my calf is knots again and the limping has returned.

So, swimming and Richard Simmons are on the back burner for now.  My physio homework consists of standing on one leg to strengthen my ankle and calf.  I also have to make a conscious effort to NOT limp (much easier said than done) or I run the risk of throwing my other leg out of whack.

Leave it to me to friggin' severely injure my leg while swimming (the supposed gentlest of all sports).  That, my friends, is true talent.