I called my mother yesterday before I called the office of the orthopedic surgeon. My mother always gives me courage to call people, and she also helps me develop a script, although I don't know if she realizes that she's doing it.
I was telling my mother that I wasn't excited about calling the office, and she said that I should just wait until I got back home for the summer and then go to a orthopedist there. Then she made the mistake of asking how much my knee hurt.
(Answer: Every day, pretty much all day, usually staying around a 2-5 on the 1-10 pain scale, but able to get to 7-8 and give out on me. I can tell the weather with the pain in my knee. I'm not kidding. And I'm usually right.)
To which she said: Call them. Call them now.
And so I did. I talked to a receptionist, who said that there probably wasn't a lot that they could do without doing a bunch of different tests and x-rays and all that jazz, but she said that she would pass the message on and that they would call me with an answer to see if we could try to figure this out.
I'm still waiting for a call. I'm going to start going to a morning water aerobics class to see if that will help in the meantime.
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