Big Hot Knee

It shows up uninvited

at the slightest provocation.

A little run,

some Zumba,

And then it gets bossy,

starts calling all the shots.

First it’s, “No more running,”

then it’s, “Stop the Zumba.”

Finally it’s, “Go to the pool,

or the doctor,

or both.”

“Ever hear of RICE?”

And so I listen.

But the walk to the pool

brings out the worst in the big hot knee.

So it says, “Get out your bike.

What, you can’t figure out

the weight-bearing connection?”

Good idea.

The swim is good.

And a trip to the doctor,

I get the idea.

Do as instructed.

The needles come out.

The ones attached to the big vial,

in which the pretty pinkish fluid collects.

That’s what’s making all the heat and noise.

More needles.


And it seems the big, hot, bossy knee

has met its match.


It happens all over again.

I  have never had a taste for RICE.


2 thoughts on “Big Hot Knee

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