This post brought to you by Percocet

Actually, it's oxycodone-acetaminophen, the generic name for Percocet. Regardless, it's doing things it's not supposed to while not entirely helping in ways it should. 

About a month ago, I was exercising (surprise!) in my basement and I heard/felt my left knee pop. I'm a pretty poppible person, so I didn't think much of it. It hurt, so I quit doing what was making it hurt and went about my evening. It kept hurting for the next few days, so I assumed I did a bit more to it than originally thought. 

By Christmas, I was purposefully keeping my leg straight at all times because, although bending it didn't hurt, straightening it out after it had been bent hurt like crazy. I also realized, while doing some last-minute shopping, that I was subconsciously walking in straight lines and only pivoting on my right leg to keep from turning my left leg in any way.

This would have been the time to call the doctor. I did not. 

Last week, I decided that maybe it hurt because I hadn't exercised at all in the past month — in an effort to keep the pain minimal, of course. Maybe I needed to actually USE the knee. So, I thought: Yoga. Yoga is low-impact, no contact, etc. There would be no running in place, jumping on that leg, nothing to injure whatever the crap was already injured. 

I was wrong. Two nights of very easy yoga later I felt like dying. Sometime around Tuesday evening I quit being able to put weight on that leg, and the cramping that had been isolated to the outside and back of my left knee had extended into my calf and thigh. I called a doctor Wednesday, and was told I couldn't get in for another two weeks. On Thursday night, I cried myself to sleep. Ice, heat, over-the-counter painkillers, nothing was doing much good. 

On Friday, Garrett took me to InstaCare after work. The doctor there confirmed what I thought — I've torn/sprained my LCL (lateral collateral ligament). The yoga aggravated the injury and is what has caused the massive cramping of my entire leg. X-rays showed no problems to my bones, so the doc prescribed me some narcotics and told me to call an orthopedic specialist if I didn't feel better soon. 

I will be calling that orthopedic specialist. The Percocet is relieving some of the pain, which has only gone from completely unbearable to barely bearable. I cannot get comfortable. I'll move my leg to one position and think I'm good only to have every muscle tense up five seconds later. It's like a permanent charley horse. From hell.

Meanwhile, the narcotics are making me feel like I'm crazy. The room is spinning, things aren't making sense, and I'M SO DANG HUNGRY all the time. For weird stuff. You'd think I was pregnant, but I assure you I'm not. So it's got to be the drugs. (Plus, Google tells me it's the drugs.) I made Garrett get me Jimmy Johns last night (all I really wanted was the avocado on the sandwich), was craving deep fried fries all day yesterday, and today, got up from my nap/can't-do-anything-so-I-hang-out-on-the-bed time and made the blondies I'd just seen on Pinterest. (Thanks, Natalie.) Also, I've gotten up at 4 a.m. for the past two nights to hop on one leg to the pantry and eat straight chocolate for a good 10 minutes.

This has to end — if for no other reason than to prevent me from ballooning to 200 pounds by the end of the month. Because at this rate, it could happen. And, please, for the love, so I can just quit hurting so bad.