It all started in early fall my senior year in high school. I was super awesome and belonged to an elite organization known as the Eastview High School Marching Band (yes, there is a heavy dose of sarcasm in this comment but, in truth, I enjoyed every toe-roll and horn move). On a blustery Thursday evening, we were ending rehearsal out on the parking lot and everyone was ready to go home. After standing at attention for several minutes, we were released by the director and headed to the grass to quickly pick up our instrument cases and books before the night sprinklers came on. Hugging my saxophone against my side, I awkwardly leaned over to pick up my math textbook and BAM, my knee gave out.
Like many teenagers, I didn't want to draw additional attention to myself and admit I was injured. Hell, half my leg could be missing and I probably would have tried to limp inside hoping nobody would notice. It wasn't until I got home and removed my faded, worn out jeans that I noticed my knee-cap was now clearly on the side of my leg. After the obligatory scream and gagging at the sight of my mangled joint, my mom and I covered it with ice and hoped it would go away.
The next morning, I could no longer see my knee. In fact, the swelling was SO bad, that it appeared as though a grapefruit had been implanted into the center of my leg, leaving the area purple and ungodly puffy. At the hospital, I was having a minor meltdown. I had even begun accepting the fact the doctor would probably amputate my entire leg when he came in, nudged my patella back in place and put a giant velcro cast around my leg. After looking at the x-ray he said my patellas (knee caps) were actually abnormally small compared to the other bones in my leg. In fact, they would continue to shift without therapy. He handed my mother a business card to a local rehab facility and told her to make me weekly appointments for the next two months.
Thus began my frequent visits to the Athletic Institute in Apple Valley. I couldn't drive with my leg all messed up, so my mom would pick me up in our mini-van and drive me to the center over lunch. There, I would sit with ACTUAL athletes while we performed various exercises and stretches. As you can see, my "cool" factor was already on hyper drive with my mom and the mini-van thing, so you can only imagine the reactions of other kids when they asked about my injury. I thought about lying, telling them I played a real sport. But in the end, I would shrug and say "well, it happened in marching band." Nobody asked questions after that.
Most afternoons, I would sit with one of the countless football players as the aides attached electroshock pads on our legs. Attached to the pads was a small box where we could control the electrical output. The shocks helped weaker muscles grow faster and, in turn, helped us get back into fighting shape. This might have been effective had we not exchanged control boxes and spent the 25 minutes seeing how bad we could shock each other. Needless to say, in the end, I came out with my left leg healed but extremely twitchy
This lovely story brings me to today. I did double workouts today and even got in a run outdoors. No matter how often I do my exercises or how hard I work, I can still feel that patella bobbing about ever so slightly in my leg. I've tried everything from knee-braces to those thingys you wrap around your leg right below your knee cap. Nothing keeps it in place. I'm in constant fear that I will hit the ground just a little bit off and wham, I'll be back in that cast.
So in exchange for my self-deprecating story, I'm hoping I have some actual athlete readers who can offer some advice. Is there anything out there that will keep my pretty patella in one place? Is there another exercise or magical device to keep my leg in working order? Any advice is much appreciated.
