Yesterday was the day I was meant to run 5km for Christchurch and, as you know, this attempt was thwarted by a knee injury that occurred last Sunday. Indeed, most of this past week has involved me lying on my back with an elevated leg or running (no pun intended!) from physician to scan to surgeon. And the verdict? Totally busted anterior cruciate ligament (ACL), cracked cartilage and a helluva lotta bone bruising.
By very early in the week, it was apparent that the injuries sustained were much more than bruising and muscular strains. Check out the swelling (or look away now - I understand if you're squeamish!):
I took the news well and was optimistic about my plans to head to Europe at Easter. However, by midweek (and one day prior to a scheduled appointment with my surgeon), my positivity began to flag. Perhaps he would tell me that I couldn't fly. Perhaps I would not be fit to walk by then. At 11am on Wednesday, my mood took another blow, as my hot water tank burst, spewing bubbling water and steam across my parquetry floors. Being immobile, I called my beloved for assistance (he's seriously been my rock/man-slave this week - I will be forever grateful!) and a few plumbers and sparkies (that's "Aussie" for electrician) later and the problem had been rectified...albeit at a cost. The day was nicely rounded out when Pickle decided to have a piddle on the floor. TRIFECTA!
Here's the little jerk. How can I stay mad at a face like that?
As I prepared to see the surgeon on Thursday, I braced for the worst. Like all good surgeons, this one was socially inept, preferring to speak to his desk or the wall than maintain any sort of eye contact. I find such ostensibly antisocial behaviour comforting in a surgeon - as if, what they lack in social skills is somehow balanced by their ability to interact with an anaesthetised body...I digress!
I was advised that I would need surgery, should I wish to participate in any sort of activity that requires lateral movement in the future (basketball, skiing, tennis, running around corners etc.) and that until then, I'll be a kind of inverse crab (i.e. only able to move forwards and backwards). My star sign is Cancer, after all!
The good news? Surgery is not required until 2-6 months after the injury to ensure a better outcome in the long term. The even better news? I will be able to travel to Europe and partake in all walking (and maybe even some biking) activities, provided I build strength up in the leg to compensate for the missing ligament. HUZZAH!
So, there you have it. A knee reconstruction has been tentatively scheduled for mid-July (happy birthday, Georgia!), but I have *much* to look forward to before then, like sandwich cake in Sweden, snails in garlic butter in France, the generous breakfast spread provided by my German "family" and a good Malaysian curry or two to finish off.
Things are looking up!