My body is a machine

 No, I don't mean that in some macho, self aggrandizing fashion. My body, any body, is a functional machine assembled of many interacting parts, which is why figuring out the source of a biological problem can be so complex. It can also be interesting, which may be why two of the people I've known with a PhD in biomechanics first studied for undergraduate degrees in engineering.

I proudly proclaim my self appointed title of fake engineer, and in attending to problems with my right leg over the past year, that has been a helpful viewpoint. When I was sent to physical therapy after a late April appointment with my doctor to address persistent hip tightness, which soon progressed to genuine pain, the focus of treatment was logically on my hip. I felt better briefly then immediately reverted, so it seemed to me like we were treating a symptom without adressing the root cause. I lobbied for treatment of my ankle, which I'd sprained nine months earlier.

Bingo! Even after the first session of working lower down the chain, on my ride home that day, my hip felt better than in months. The physical therapy order was rewritten, but a little late, and conditions soon degraded to the point of walking, or not, with a cane, and even visiting the emergency room one weekend day when I was pretty much incapacitated. Ouch!

I try not to abuse use of our overwhelmed medical system, but the ER visit did effectively push my issue up the triage chain, and I was sent to sports therapy, or so the new-to-the-area doctor who subbed for my usual physician thought. It turns out, Pioneer Sport and Spine, while including "sport" in the name, is simply a provider of standard physical therapy, but after my intake visit there, it was decided to forward me to Baystate Hospital's physical therapy which had a location closer to me.

Working with Pam and Sophie there worked wonders, and I was steadily improving and even sampling running again. On discharge from the treatment cycle, Pam recommended I again persue true sports therapy treatment, and even provided the names of sports therapy doctors who had specialist knowledge, and not just in name! There was a one month delay to that appointment (see, overtaxed system), but I continued with my exercises, and my leg continued to improve. Running even edged toward feeling like I remember it, with a genuine stride!

Dr. Schepart, the sports specialist, felt surgery to repair ligaments from my apparently bad sprain wasn't necessary, but with his direction and inputs for specific exercises, I returned to physical therapy. Improvement continued, but I was periodically noting gaps in the portions of my leg receiving attention. Interestingly, but not surprisingly, much of the ankle treatment was hip strengthening, but then at the beginning of this week, I realized that was all focused on the ball and socket joint at the top of my femur without attending to the strength and stability of my entire pelvis.

I lobbied physical therapy again, this time asking for exercises to stabilize my pelvic girdle up and down. Pam has been excellent at working with the requests and input from a fake engineer with no formal medical training, and she showed me two exercises to work pelvic stability. Oh wow, and oh wow again, as soon as I started them, my hip felt, not just better, possibly great, normal! That was three days ago, and in that short time my hip has continued to improve to where I'm genuinely contemplating the prospect of it being all better. Now I just need to figure out the machine oil cure to lube the tightness in the tibialis anterior on the front outside of my shin.

Super cool exercises that are totally hip

And now, I won't resist the temptation to retell my favorite engineer joke, heard on the Prairie Home Companion joke show:

Three engineers are debating what kind of engineer God is. 

First the mechanical engineer, "Look at the human body, the loads, stresses, and strains. God had to be a mechanical engineer."

Then the electric engineer, "But without the control system, the synaptic response, the mechanism is useless. God had to be an electrical engineer."

Finally, the civil engineer, who'd been sitting quietly, asks, "Who else would route a waste pipe through the middle of a great recreational facility?"