Recently, I was in the awkward position (pun intended—you’ll get it soon) of not wanting to tell the Urgent Care doctor exactly how I injured myself. I mean, I wanted an accurate diagnosis and proper treatment, but how do you tell the doctor, “I was having wild sex with my husband when I dislocated my kneecap?”
*pauses for effect*
Should I have told him the truth? Should I have described the exact sexual position? Should I have given him all of the details? Maybe… I don’t know. But I’m much bolder in print. It’s much harder to say these things to a person’s face. So I wimped out, and I LIED.
Well, maybe I stretched the truth a bit. I told him that I was crawling around on the floor (somewhat true), cleaning up after a party (well, there was a sort of party going on), and dislocated my kneecap when I abruptly changed positions (absolutely true).
I’m not sure he bought it though. The doctor listened to my story, squinted his eyes at me, and said, “Must have been some party.”
With my head held high, I replied, “Yes. Yes, it was.”
To make matters worse, I ran into my friend’s (extremely conservative) husband on my way out of the Urgent Care Center. He spied my limp and the knee brace and asked me about my injury. I couldn’t even bring myself to continue the lie I had told the doctor so I just muttered something about falling down the stairs. Which, in all honesty, happens more often than I’d care to admit.
Then, when I got home, I had to answer to my children. Unfortunately, they weren’t satisfied with my simple explanation of falling down the stairs. They asked multiple questions. They forced me to craft a fictitious account in excruciating detail. They made me act out the whole fake accident in slow motion.
I had become a lying liar who lies—with both words and actions.
When I texted my best friend about this later, she found the whole situation absolutely hilarious. (Bitch.) And she might have made fun of me a little. (A lot.) Clearly, she had no idea what kind of pain I was in. Not to mention that I didn’t get to finish, well, you know… Dislocating your kneecap has a way of ending all fun—very suddenly.
She then sent me this little snippet from Wikipedia: “Patellar dislocations occur with significant regularity, particular[ly] with young female athletes.”
It’s possible highly probable that she was still making fun of me, but I choose to view that excerpt as a gift. She had just given me my new lie.
Should this ever happen again, I plan to look the doctor directly in the eye and say, “Oh, you know. I’m an athlete—I did this during training.” Notice I left out the “young” part—there’s no way he would buy that one.
But, friends, here’s the God’s honest truth: it’s all fun and games … until you dislocate your patella.
Photo Credit: wavebreakmediamicro / 123RF Stock Photo
26 Responses
Busted patella. *snort*
Yes, it’s funny now. I can assure you that I was not laughing when it happened. Hell, I’m surprised I didn’t wake the neighbors.
OMG! They totally knew how you did it in the ER, you probably made their night 🙂
Thanks for hooking up to the Hump Day Hook Up.
What?! You don’t think he assumed I was a young female athlete in training? 😉 P.S., Thanks for the pimp mobile.
Patella is going to be a new code word in my house for… something. ;P Popping by via Hump Day Hook Up.
That’s a great code word! Thanks for stopping by!
Working my way through your esteemed blog, I found this short masterpiece.
But I have to say I’m disappointed. “Not to mention that I didn’t get to finish, well, you know.” As a female athlete, you have to just rub some dirt on it and finish for the team!*
*Almost word for word my pep talk to my team during my one horrible season coaching junior high soccer, a sport I never played.
Let’s just say that half of the team finished. Oh, and don’t ever coach soccer again.
Why is it that if one half the team is going to finish that it is always, always the SAME half? SMH at the unfairness of it all. Keep training Young Foxy, The Force is with you!
I’m sure the other half of the team would be just fine with more training.
You lying, sexy beast!! (Ignore the giggles coming from me. I just read something funny. Something else. I’m not laughing at you. Pinky swear. And ignore my crossed fingers when I say that.)
🙂
Dude. I’m totally laughing at me too. Ridiculous.
I’ve been in this situation. Something a little different, but wild, kinky, whatever. I was mortified having to tell my doctor. But I had to or… I would not have received the right care! LOL
Well, you can’t just leave us hanging, Crystal! Crystal?!
At the moment I have a great appreciation for my mild sex life. 😉
I can appreciate that. 🙂
Make sure you highlight the “female” part of that story. Completely unbelievable if you’re a male athlete.
Exactly.
I totally want the details.
I’ll make you a flip pad animation reenactment.
Good for you! I mean, I’m glad it wasn’t me, but good for you ;-). I once got a HUGE rug burn on my spine from sex and unfortunately I was a competitive swimmer at the time so everyone could see it. I had to get very creative to explain that one. I’m pretty sure no one believed me anyway.
I think it was more good for my husband. 😉 And no one believed either of us.
Talk about taking one for the team! You deserve a badge of honor or box of wine or something!
We don’t want details. We need details! Effin’ hilarious. Way too keep things exciting! Don’t let your injury slow you down.
Stitches in the lady parts! Didn’t have any choice, had to describe how it happened!
Bahahahahahaha! This story is HILARIOUS! Lying to the kids is the worst! They want to keep talking about it FOREVER!
I once hurt my arm while drunkenly puking out the window of a moving vehicle, (My arm hit a parked car), and found myself in a very similar situation at the hospital, and then again at home. “And that, kids, is why you keep your hands and arms inside the vehicle at all times!”
Best of luck on your next “workout!”