Need, Knead, Knee

Why is it that each year I keep needing some sort of bandage to get me through some pain or another? As if my drawer with medical bandages was not already full from last year’s shoulder slings for the fractured shoulder from the dratted paragliding accident. Hrrmpf. Talk about huge mistakes! I have been told over and over again that my courage tends to run on ahead without my brain sometimes, and this is proof. At the time, the whole paragliding course sounded brilliant, and since I had already jumped out of an airplane for sky-diving, why the hell not get certified for paragliding? Well, I thought very differently once the parachute dragged me across the field during the training, thus fracturing my shoulder and completely ruining my birthday the next day.

Coming up to 14 months after that incident, I still can’t play tennis, have trouble raising my arm all the way up without pain, and now, as an indirect consequence of said short-lived love affair with the parachute, the meniscus (cartilage) behind my left knee decided to call it a day three weeks ago. I need this aggravation in life like I need a hole in the head!

I have been in agonising pain since, finding it more and more difficult to walk and almost impossible to sleep. Stairs are an absolute nightmare at the moment. Of course I went back to the orthopedist, who was not happy to see me back, inasmuch as I was just as miserable having to see him again. I swear I could have slapped him silly after he remarked “For your age, (aaaaarrrrrgggghhhhhh! I hate that phrase) your bones are in perfect condition. There is nothing wrong there and no displacement, but the meniscus is torn, which has caused an inflammation.” So I got sent back to physical therapy, a concept I abhor during these corona times, and am in line for an MRI. In the meantime I wear an elastic knee brace keep me mobile. Grrrrr.

No matter how much pain-killing cream I knead into my knee, I need the brace to get me through. Flashback to 2005 when I first tore my meniscus (on the other knee) while training for a marathon (again, another one of my stupid ideas that sounded brilliant at the time): The orthopedist at the time told me to stop running or he would have to operate and possibly replace my knee entirely. I stared at him in horror and asked what was I supposed to do in the meantime. He recommended Nordic Walking as an alternative activity. Executive summary: been there, hated that, gained weight.

As a consolation, at least the temperatures have dropped to 16C here in Berlin today, thereby deeming flowing summer dresses useless and redundant. That way I can hide the brace, and since I don’t have a photoshoot coming up that requires any major acrobatics on my part, it will do for now.

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