No good deed

I have a torn meniscus.
At least that’s what the orthopedic doctor thinks. He won’t know for sure until I get an MRI and I won’t get an MRI until the folks at my health insurance company say I can. All of that is another story for another day.
I just want to tell you how I tore my meniscus.
No, it wasn’t playing tennis.
Those who know me know I play tennis almost every single morning in the summer. This is not paddy-cake doubles either. We play hard, my two alternating partners and I. And those who know me always chastise me for doing so. “After all,” they say, “you’re 68 years old.” Actually, I won’t be 68 until November. But it wasn’t the tennis that got me anyway.
Nor was it the elliptical apparatus at the gym. If I’m not playing tennis in the morning I’m on an elliptical at the gym. Last Wednesday, in fact, I ran 5 miles on the elliptical first thing in the morning and then played two hours of tennis right after. But it wasn’t the elliptical that got me either.
Nor was it my gardening. For the record, it’s my wife who has the green thumb. I’m just her laborer. I till soil, spread mulch, cut grass and hedges, and pull weeds. Actually, it’s harder work than either the tennis or the elliptical. But likewise it wasn’t gardening that got me.
You know what did get me?
Doing something nice.
Last Friday night a couple of friends of mine who perform as a duo were playing at a local bar. When they’re playing I make it my business to be there to support them. Plus, I love listening to them play and sing. Everybody wins. So I went.
That was nice thing number one.
At one point during the night, I noticed the wife of one of the performers, a gal who also happens to be my high school classmate, sitting by herself. “I should go over and sit with her,” I thought.
I pulled up a bar still and when I went to put my right leg on a rung, I felt something rip in my knee.
It was nice thing number two that did me in.
When I told another buddy a couple of days later what happened, he immediately came up with a diagnosis. “You obviously have “‘bar-situs,” he said.
Fortunately my knee doesn’t hurt when I laugh.

Ed Ackerman