January 24, 2003 06:07 PM

If you ever need to pick a cute, round, slightly dykey doctor out of a list of possible doctors, call me.

Seriously. I use what one might consider a kismet approach to primary care physician selection. Basically, I gather all the women doctors' names and point at one. She almost always ends up cute, round and slighly dykey. Just the way I like them.

Oh, my. I'm objectifying my doctor. Surely that's some sort of venial sin.

In any case, I have a sprained knee and am now equipped with a sort of knee-corset. It has metal stays and should really come in black PVC instead of white cotton and with buckles or laces where it now has velcro. Rowr.

This is actually the third knee-corset I've worn. It's not quite as tasteless as the rest (neon blue and black sports fabric and all the way down my leg just doesn't go with anything I own). But it's ugly.

And I can't move my knee. The fact that I can't move it is, of course, disguising the deeper truth that it blasting hurts. As I can't actually feel the pain, I have to thank the stars and such for the boy, who is keeping me home and well-behaved. Instead of off working and mischieving.

And - this is fun, at least. Last time I wore a knee-corset was six-seven-ish years ago. I was quite thin (for me) then. And I couldn't maneuver the immobilized leg without swinging my whole body into it. I was pleased to discover today that my oblique muscles are now fully capable of handling the weight of my leg. In fact, they're rather amused by the whole thing. As are my arms. It appears I've grown into a big, strong woman. Rowr.

What more could a girl want?

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