You're Afraid of What?

It's called genuphobia and it's a fear of knees. Yes, I am afraid of knees. I cannot touch my knees or your knees, nor can I let you do any of that either. I cannot watch knees be touched nor can I hear about things--anythings--being done to knees. *shudder* My immediate reaction is to jerk away and then I begin to cry. Yes, knees can make me cry.

So I played volleyball this weekend.

Guess what I injured?

My KNEE.

In the past 24 hours I have been poked and prodded at in the knee more than I ever have in my entire life. In the same 24 hours, I have shed more tears than I can remember having shed in a very long time. I have had my knee stretched, bent, straighted, twisted, shifted, massaged, acupunctured, electrocuted, iced, and heated--and I bawled through it all. They were silent tears, but there were indeed tears. I actually well up a little if I think too much about it.

You'd figure that after all that I'd be a little less sensitive about it all. Nope. Not one bit more brave in the least. I suppose that's why it's called a phobia. However, I owe much thanks to one nurse, 2 acupuncturists, 2 chiropractors, a caring mother, and a concerned yet loving boyfriend for getting me through it all.

I'm sore, but I'm still standing. I can now get up and down the stairs, and even going to the bathroom is less of an ordeal now. Shmelly says I should give up volleyball. I say he can kiss my swollen knee...though I hope he doesn't--it'll freak me out too much. First game of the season is on Thursday night, next tournament's on Saturday; knee or no knee (who needs 'em anyway?) you can bet your bum I'll be there!