Well, heck: MRIs, knees,and Space Mountain

The week I left on vacation I distracted myself from packing gear, clothes, and nine days' worth of food by going to medical appointments. A WHOLE BUNCH OF THEM. I had a bone density scan, blood work, a breast MRI, and a knee MRI. The first three are courtesy of my oncologist, Dr. Alice, who is reviewing all my hormone-regulating meds. It's been a few years now, and it's time take assessment of things and plan what's up for the next few years. The bone scan was sort of amusing, the blood work no big deal (I'm so desensitized to needles, I could probably stick an IV in my own arm if I had to), but the breast MRI was a total bummer that reduced me from a cheerful enthusiastic patient ("No problem! I'm fine in here!") to a quivering mess (you lie on your front with your arms straight above you for HALF AN HOUR). Oh, and there's an IV pumping funny dye stuff into you. The knee MRI in comparison was a picnic. I laid comfortably on my back, planning menus and packing lists and finally dozing off in spite of the funny loud noises.

I survived though and returned from vacation to find copies of reports from my bone density and and breast MRI in my mail pile. All clear, all good. Not a surprise really, but you never know. When I had breast cancer four years ago, I had never felt better.

I had to wait until today though to have my orthopedic doctor look at the knee MRI. I love looking at these images when someone can explain them to me. When I look at them at home, holding them up to the window, they look like slices of headcheese. This MRI is a very late follow-up to my scooter crash last winter where I skidded on some oil in the rain and dove head first down hill, landing on my knee and face shield. In a state of classic denial, I didn't want to go in during ski season because . . . well, you know. And then I didn't want to go in for any bad news that might effect my camping trip. So I figured between the camping trip and the next ski season was the perfect time to find out what is really going on in there.

The doctor said she saw something "very interesting!" For me, interesting good (sort of) because it's not all in my head and interesting bad because it's something that can't easily be fixed. I have a torn PCL. Where it's supposed to be in the MRI there is instead just black. Here's what it's supposed to look like:

Another nice view:

But this is what we've got going on:

The good news, the doctor said, is that I don't need surgery. This is apparently something they're not really good at fixing, and it can be mostly resolved with physical therapy and a brace for certain activities (read: skiing). A brace for how long? FOREVER. To keep it from coming apart.
The transformation is complete: I'm one of those "active seniors" I see in lift lines. Grim.

On another note, has anyone who has had an MRI noticed the resemblance of the entire experience to Disneyland's Space Mountain? You know, the tube, the noises. I lie in that thing just waiting for it to blast off. Is it just me? What I want to know is the next time I go on Space Mountain, will I be reminded of an MRI?