Wednesday, 17 April 2013

Oh bother

I got broken.  Yesterday on the way to work I misjudged a corner, put my left leg out to steady myself and unfortunately it looks like I got it twisted by a slight hold up in some railings. It didn't feel cataclysmic at the time, it wasn't properly stuck, more just halted, and I wasn't going fast or powerful, but it twisted.  As I sat there on the wall by the railings waiting for the pain to abate enough or the still twitching leg to feel like I could take weight on it, it's quite funny the two things which went through my mind.

Firstly was oh shit, there's no way I'll be able to do the sportive on Sunday, the one I've been focusing on and looking forward to, the one I've been preparing for, getting in the bike miles for, and generally happily anticipating.  The second one was oh, this is going to put me out of action, I'm going to put on weight.  It's funny how telling the first thoughts are.  The weight one was an insight into me I hadn't really openly accepted and appreciated.  I hate my waist broadening. 

What's also funny is that although I couldn't put any weight on it, couldn't walk, there seemed to me, four miles from home and four miles from work no obvious reason at all not to carry on cycling to work one legged.  A year or more ago I suspect that wouldn't have been an option but it didn't even merit a moment's thought from me because it's obvious, isn't it, that the right leg alone is perfectly capable of propelling me along a mostly flat journey to work.  Except that in the early days that leg of the journey didn't seem flat at all, it seemed like a long drag uphill.  But now it's flat and manageable with one leg.  A circumstance I didn't even think about until late afternoon when someone asked me how I'd got in to work.

So I'm on crutches, my leg elevated, paying the PRICE (protect, rest, ice, compression, elevation).  And in honesty it really hurts.  Just moving my leg from elevated on the arm of the settee to elevated on a pile of cushions on a footstool today had me not just yelp with pain but nearly pass out.  Don't get me started on the stairs, getting on and off the toilet, putting on knickers, socks, and shoes, the whole lower body getting dressed was done while snivelling gently to myself along with the occasional involuntary semi scream. 

The swelling on the underside of the knee also looks quite, um, interesting.  This is not good, really not good. 

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