I wasn’t going to see a doctor about my ankle, but Xy suggested I should. So I gave my GP a call. I’m none too enamored of my GP, as I mentioned before. I’ve only seen her once and can’t even remember her name. But when I called, her staff referred me to an “orthopedic.”
So this morning I found myself visiting the Jock Doc. I call him that because he seemed primarily focused on sports injuries, plus he kind of seemed like a jock himself. He was more interested in telling me stories about athletes he’s treated than in hearing about my particulars. In fact I had to tackle him as he tried to leave just to get a few questions answered. He seemed to know his stuff once I forced the issue.
They x-rayed my ankle from three different angles (twice, because they came out “too light” the first time) and I guess nothing showed up as broken. Then he gave me an air brace, on the house, which I gather costs a few bucks, so I suppose I shouldn’t complain too much.
Hmmm. According to a recent study, I might get better quicker if I combine the air brace with an elastic wrap.
Dr. Jock was of the opinion that I should not ride my bike for ten days or so, which will make getting to work difficult. But I guess that’s what sick days are for.