Poolee Function #2

The last poolee function was rather fun even though I was excused for half of it.

I'll admit that I am very quiet around my recruiters and other poolees. I don't think I said more than five words the entire morning. I'm normally not like that. I'm usually very outspoken and energetic but I'll also admit that I was worried about the pain in my legs.

I had no idea what we were going to do for our Poolee function and when I was informed that we were going to be running to a park and then playing football I internally ran away to that place where my pain goes and hid in the corner, steeling myself for what was to come.

For the entire 45 minute drive to the office I didn't so much as look at anyone.

I was bound and determined to push through the knee pain of the run and the football just to show how tough I can really be when the Staff Non-Commisioned Officer In Charge (SNCOIC) came out of the office and said I wasn't running.

My recruiter made a small sound of disgust and said he didn't agree (although he used much more colorful phraseology) but the SNCOIC said it was his decision.

I was surprised he even knew about my knees. I hadn't told anyone but my recruiter about the pain and he had dismissed it to the point where I thought he would never deem it necessary to pass it up the chain of command.

I was grateful for the decision and was driven with one other injured poolee to the place where we were to play football.

My team was definitely the "outcast" team and we were slaughtered by the "football jock" team comprised of every football star in our pool group.

Every step felt like a knife to the knees but I hobbled along through two games of football. I managed even to complete a few passes and limb a yard or two before being tagged. Our team won the second time and I managed to have a little fun. Then I was driven back to the office while the other poolees did a formation run with cadence. I would have liked to have done that.

I was angry. At my knees. At the attitudes of those around me and the way they looked at me as though I weren't trying. And when my recruiter told me to stop limping I was furious at him.

For the drive back I was deadly silent again thinking only of the growing heat and pain in my knees and the frustration that I felt.

After a stop at the grocery store I went home and sat on the rocking chair with ice packs on each knee.

My husband, bless his heart, approached me gently and said, "Honey, I'm not trying to discourage you or make you feel like I don't support you, but I'm beginning to think this might not be physically possible for you."

Much to my wounded dreams and pride I said, "I'm beginning to see that."

I promised to take it easy and to go back to the doctor and then I left for my parents to visit my brother who had just returned from Iraq.