Grandma Hates Me

Or Grandma's Marathon hates me, anyway. After two lovely runs on Sunday and Monday, I woke up on Tuesday morning with pain in my shin that was eerily familiar. I'm once again unlikely to shell out the bucks for an MRI for a definitive diagnosis, but I'm quite sure I'm dealing with another stress fracture. That's two, in the exact same spot, in less that two years. So. very. frustrating.

I am hoping against hope that recovery will be quicker this time because I've recognized it early, and, of course, have stopped running. We shall see, though. The fabulous Dr. Boren did a pretty thorough assessment on Wednesday and has told me not to rule out Grandma's. I'm trying to keep an open mind, but I'm not real optimistic. In addition to seeing the chiropractor, I've had one session of acupuncture therapy and have another scheduled for early next week.

If you're wondering about my choice of health care, I don't blame you. My previous experience, however, is that western medicine providers will pretty much listen to you for 30 seconds and then shrug their shoulders. At least by going this route I feel I'm being listened to. There is, however, a part of me that would really like to have the MRI done, just so I would really know for sure what's going on.