My body continues its series of no-holds-barred attacks on me; a few weeks ago I was on a business trip, and,, that evening, I sat down on the hotel bed. You wouldn't think such an innocuous action would invite immediate and drastic punitive action, but make no mistake about it; Parkinson's is a stern and unforgiving taskmaster. It loses no opportunity to remind me of who's in charge. This time was no exception; I heard (and felt) a large CRACK!, and when I tried to move my leg, couldn't help but notice that my kneecap, instead of occupying its usual position, was jutting out at a 45 degree angle. From this I deduced that I'd dislocated it. Well, that and the intense pain.
(I don't know why the medical terminology is "dislocate". Believe me, you have no trouble finding it. It hurts like a motherfucker.)
Anyway. I wasn't in a position to snap it back myself, so the hotel called First Response, who immediately cut my favorite pair of pants to shreds so they could splint me. I had a long ride in an ambulance, and a longer still stay in the ER. I was annoyed that they didn't empty a bag of morphine in my arm before popping my knee back, but I didn't want to look like a wuss, so I only screamed a little when the ortho moved it back. Believe me, it's nothing to how I'll scream when I get the bill.
This was due (big surprise) to the PD. It has the curious ability to make my muscles both weaker and stiffer. (The Latin name for the disease is Paralysis agitans.) I've noticed lately that every time I feel myself losing my balance, I instinctively snap to rigidity, and all my joints and muscles hyperextend. In the long run, this isn't good. In fact, it ain't all that much fun in the short run either.