Friday, October 12, 2007

leg injury

Last Saturday, I had a check up with a doctor. I complained about the still painful left leg, a month after I figured in an injury in a football game.

I sensed the deep concern in his face when I told him that it's been a month already that I have been limping. I couldn't run well because of the pain. He compared the calf muscles of my both legs and he marked that the right leg was rather big. While the left one shrank.

He concluded that since because the left was painful, I tend to use the power of my right leg more often. Hence, its enormous size.

And after a series of squeezing the injured portion, he sighed with relief. His diagnosis: torn muscles.

Good thing, it wasn't a fractured bone after all. He told me that I would need to rest for three months for the muscle to heal. I ought to avoid strenuous activities. Carrying heavy loads is a no-no. Climbing stairs need to be avoided. And games, too.

When my mom called up last Saturday evening, I was hesitant in telling her my condition. I didn't develop the habit of making my mom worry about reporting to her the pains I experience. But something has pushed me to tell her about it. She needed to know, after all, she's my mom.

So, when I finally had the courage to tell her about my injury over the phone, I didn't hear the barrage of maternal words I was anticipating. Instead I got this from her: "Why do you have to play? You're not used to that sport. You're lame and..." Let me cut the quote there.
She's my mom and that's the way she shows her love and concern.

By the way, this afternoon, one of my wishes came true. I got the book "The Faith Explained" from my mom. Perhaps, this will make me busy as I while away my time during game time--for the next two months!