It could be something moving around inside that’s torn loose; it could be arthritis or some other degeneration; it could be badly wrenched and only needs time and muscle relaxants to allow me pain-free movement and stability again. We don’t know. But the way insurance companies are nowadays, they require attempts at medication before paying for treatment. (And even something as simple and diagnostic as an x-ray is considered treatment. Yipes.) So, it may be another month before I get to find out what’s exactly wrong.
But we will deal with it. I’m getting used to moving slower and more gingerly. I’m learning to deal with pain by prayer and ice packs. And I’m even learning how to enjoy being a passenger in my trusty ’95 Oldsmobile. No kidding. I’ve always wondered why Claire knew more than I did about what’s going on in our city — where the stores are, when certain buildings have gone up or torn down, and so on. Now I know. Being a passenger allows you to look around and notice things. You can also think about something other than the traffic. In fact, I realize now that there are a lot of advantages of being a passenger.
Nevertheless, I am praying I don’t have to be one for too much longer!
Claire, of course, has been very sweet about the whole thing. Very patient and helpful. She drove me to the doctor’s office yesterday morning. She drove me to a speaking engagement I had scheduled at Grace University yesterday afternoon. And then, to make sure I safely made my 6:00 Panera’s meeting with Dick Wilson, she got up early and drove me there too! (The three of us had a delightful time together)
We are fortunate too that this next week is one of those with no “When Swing Was King” presentations on the schedule. For even though Claire could take on the taxi duties, hauling all the stuff we need into the various facilities really would be a task. So, both of us ask that you lift up a prayer that this knee will come back soon enough for us to carry on with our regular duties. Thanks so much.
