I limped into the orthopedist's office, wrote out a very detailed medical history, as well as a fairly well-substantiated hypothesis as to why my stupid ankle's been hurting, and, after taking a couple of x-rays & playing too many games of "Hanging with Friends" on my iPhone, the doctor walked in, pressed my ankle with his thumb (which hurt), and then said, "You're probably right."
So....stress fracture. Woo. Anyone ever had one of those? They're tiny little sub-hairline fractures that are often un-diagnosable because they often don't even show up on x-rays. They usually only hurt when you're doing whatever activity it is that you injured yourself doing, but if you let them get bad enough (like I did), then you'll feel the pain all the time and/or more intensely.
If I'm right, then this is my third stress fracture. Why do I think I'm right? Well, besides all of the symptoms aligning with the diagnosis, stress fractures numbers 1 & 2 occurred during the aftermath of Part 1 of The Story I Haven't Told You Yet. Let's just put it this way: Stress fracture #1 occurred about a year after I had reached my low weight of 97 lbs at 5'5". I was running cross country, and I landed funny while hopping up onto the sidewalk from the road at the end of a run. That's all it took to make me spend my very first District competition on crutches & cheering my teammates on from the sidelines. The following year, I tripped on a sprinkler head & had to sit out of Regionals.
Why would such seemingly trivial incidents result in such ridiculous injuries?
Osteopenia.
Basically, by being an anorexic (or whatever the eff I am) and not only under-eating, but denying my body of the nutrients that it needs to maintain things like bone density, I have given myself pre-osteoperosis. The good news is that osteopenia can be reversed. And I guess I did that when I started eating better through the first half of the decade. But relapse number 1 in 2007 (which is Part 2 of the Story) and Relapse number 2 (which you now all know about) must have re-reversed that trend...and while I'm up 25.5 lbs, and I've been eating much better AND taking all sorts of necessary supplements to aid in my recovery, I'm apparently still at risk.
So let my stupid, stupid, useless injury be a PSA for the rest of you. Don't fuck your body up: eat food.
Speaking of which...I've been contemplating making a life change, but I don't know if my digestive system will be able to handle it. I stopped eating red meat in the spring of 2001...but I don't know if it's worth trying to reincorporate it into my diet. I don't really want to eat it, per se, but I feel like I'm missing some of the vital nutrients that I could be getting from having red meat every few days.
I don't know...it's worth considering, I suppose.
Anyway. Now I'm just pissed at myself, I can't work out today, AND I have to work until 10 tonight. Le sigh. Off I go...
Kaila
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