Not Entering an Ass-Kicking Contest Any Time Soon. Resurrected Post.
I���m staring down fifty. As of this writing that day remains about six months away, slouching inexorably closer. I fight the inevitable as best I may, hitting the gym five days a week, maintaining a generally healthy diet.
So I think it was more bad luck than age or poor conditioning that caught me Thursday afternoon. I was mowing the lawn, about two-thirds complete, when I turned to push the mower uphill for another pass. I felt something give in my right calf. I will spare you a description of the pain. Let���s leave it at ���it hurt.���
MBW drove me to urgent care, while a neighbor looked after the HA. I went home with an injection and crutches. I napped through an MRI Saturday. (I didn���t think it possible either, those things are loud. But nonetheless I dozed.) Saturday evening came the diagnosis: torn gastrocnemius muscle.
I���ll have to wait for the appointment with the orthopedist for word on recovery time and treatment. Meanwhile, I���ll keep hobbling along.
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Published on September 23, 2018 09:56
