Two weeks back, I was sprinting. On concrete. Didn’t see a rock, as eyes were looking ahead, not down. Shod foot landed off-square on stray rock. Something gave. Bad.
I didn’t go down, but I definitely dropped instantly to ‘walk’. Walk was hobble, though. Knew there was trouble. It was the same leg that got injured two years back by being banged into sideways by a very large, happily exuberant boar. Same leg my Aussie shepherd banged into an re-injured it, mid-way healed, the same year.
“Yup.” Mumbled jargon. Typing. “It’s gonna take a good six weeks to heal. Ice, elevate, rest. No work for two weeks. None. Then gentle walking. Only. Wear a support when upright. You have crutches, I see. Okay. See you in two weeks.”
Sigh. For me, that meant begging and hiring in help.
And I hate sitting on my ass, except to write or create artwork.
And, now, two and a half weeks later, I’m walking like a human, again. Oh, it’s not all the way healed, but it’s healed enough that I impressed everyone when I walked in for a recheck.
“Mild work, no heavy chores.”
Of course, I nod. Then grin.
He grins back. He knows me. Shakes his head. Types on the keyboard. “See you next time.”
At least I can get rid of the temporary help and stop sitting around in front of the computer for most of the day. There’s work to do and winter’s coming.
EVENING UPDATE: Well, bum knee and all, I made my walk tonight, me and Laddie. I managed 3 mph. Usually, I do a mile in 12 minutes walking, but, for a first time out since I tweaked that knee, I figure doing a mile in 20 minutes is pretty good, since it’s over 4 inch rocks that are tricky to navigate with both legs sound. But, yeah, I did wear a leg brace and, yeah, I did feel it grumble a few times.