In her 2021 book The Secret to Superhuman Strength, graphic memoirist Alison Bechdel describes her fitness obsessions. In one scene, she injures her right knee. “I don’t think it’s serious,” she says in a panel. Two years later, she talks to her doctor about the knee that didn’t improve.
Oh how I can identify with that. I read about Bechdel’s knee
the day I learned I needed surgery for my aching right knee. To get to the news
peg of this piece, I had that surgery Friday morning to stitch up my torn meniscus.
Three months earlier something went haywire in my right knee on a walk in new shoes. It didn’t
improve and I was loathe to cut back on my pandemic-inspired walking routine (10,000 steps the daily goal). Finally I limped to an urgent care center and the doctor said it
seemed like a strained ligament. He suggested x-rays. I didn’t do anything
except wear the tight knee brace he gave me. A strained ligament would heal, right?
“I didn’t do anything” has been a loser life strategy since
I was a kid. Science projects, college classes and papers, one anxiety-wracked work
issue after another, relationship discord. Through procrastination, I delayed but never avoided the inevitable reckoning. As I often tell others, hope is not
a strategy. I should know. You can ignore the throbbing of psychic or physical pain for only so long. And then the pain doubles. Or triples. Several times I reached the edge of a nervous breakdown because I simply didn't reach out for help before I reached code red. This caused pain for me and the people who cared for me.
Books have been written on overcoming procrastination. I’ve
read them. I knew I had a problem; notes from a summer 2001 therapy session
include my plea, “Learn to take action!” And I have learned, in ways that improved my
life. I’m in a better place now that I was 20 or 30 years ago. But still, a looming decision can paralyze me.
Case in point: my knee. After the urgent care visit, I soldiered along with more walking. The throb was more an annoyance than major pain; in other words, I thought I could manage the problem rather than get to the root of it. That's not a very effective crisis strategy. I even went whitewater rafting. I’m surprised that thrilling but bonkers experience didn’t put me on a medevac ride to the ER. Then I saw my internist on another matter and mentioned the problem. He immediately ordered X-rays and gave me the names of specialists. I STILL delayed, until after a weekend of whomping pain I got a clue and made an appointment with an orthopedist. He looked at the x-rays and sent me for a high-priority MRI. We met again after the MRI. The verdict: definitely a torn meniscus. He outlined the prep for the procedure, what he’d be doing, and the recovery.
And Friday afternoon I had the surgery. The surgery went well and I'm moving around with a walking stick. Now I’m sitting here with a bag of ice on my knee. I joined Lift Fitness gym and will go there on Sunday to start biking (I'm easy to spot there, look for the old guy in the baggy sweatsuit). But I'll do no major walking until the doctor clears me for that. Longer-term, I need to swap lower-impact exercise for those obsessive 10,000-step days loping over hill and dale at the Ward Pound Ridge Reservation.
Did procrastination make the knee problems worse, or simply prolong the inevitable surgery? I certainly felt daily discomfort with almost every step. I had heard and hedged on suggestions from my partner to get an X-ray and consult an orthopedist sooner—advice I would absolutely give to others. What was my worry? Was it the cost? I have health insurance. That I didn't know what to do? Long ago I mastered the ability to pick up the phone and call my medical practice located about 300 yards away from home. Was it fear of admitting I made a mistake? Walking is not a mistake! A misplaced skepticism about advice? A lack of confidence in my ability to cope? Fear of bad news and the unknown? I know from hard experience that delay often makes the news worse. Master life coach Vito Corleone had a wise and effective approach toward difficult life issues: "Mr. Corleone is a man who insists on hearing bad news immediately."
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| Editorial consultant Jerry gives me pointers on my open mic script as I ice my right knee. |
Ultimately, once the process began, I moved fast, x-ray to orthopedist to MRI to surgery to recovery. The dam of delay broke. And how did I feel taking action? The same way I have in 100 percent of similar situations: utter relief that I did something to address the problem rather than stick my head up my tush. And this starts what can be called a “virtuous cycle” of action on other fronts. One involves learning how to use the Canon 40D camera I bought in 2012 and have barely used, and tinkering with my retirement savings allocation, now that I’m closer to retirement age.
Final thoughts? I'm grateful I got help from caring professionals. And I'll try to remember my note to myself from 2001: "Learn to take action!" That flood of relief from tackling the latest challenge shouldn't be a one-off, the low point before the roller-coaster of procrastination starts again. Temporary relief can be, in fact, a grievous form of self-deception. Rather, I want this to be the pattern for whatever comes next. Because ultimately, inaction is THE most painful and self-defeating form of action. That's one lesson we all learn eventually.
Do that and your friends and family and I and Alison Bechdel will all support you.
