Ow Ow Ow Ow
I can't believe how much it hurt. I managed to twist my knee when standing up to transfer from the couch to my wheelchair. I've done that move a thousand times but I must have done something just slightly different. I didn't feel much more than a twinge, at first. But an hour later and the knee was throbbing.
Getting up at night for a pee is a given, I'm over 50, and when I stood my knee protested loudly. I could barely move. I stumbled from one brace to another as I held on first to the top of the dresser, then to the door jam, then to the hallway wall. It was almost unbearable.
I knew that Joe had some anti-inflamitories, from when he had the heel spur, left over. There were the T3's that I'd not finished when I had surgery. Somewhere in the apartment was relief. I made it to my desk, sat down on my office chair and waited for the pain to subside. An hour later Joe got up to check on me, he found the pills in a few minutes and I was trembling like a crack whore as he doled them out to me.
Being stoned was simply a side benefit to the pills, mostly the end result was that the pain went away. The next morning we modified our goals as I couldn't really walk at all. I'm not much of a walker now anyways, but what I had was now almost gone. Without the pills, I could stand, briefly, and hobble the few feet from the bedroom door to the bed.
Talk about feeling foolish. Double crippled. I deserve 2 parking spaces!
It was interesting to realize how much I depend on the movement that I do have. That when it was gone the world I navagate well became suddenly much more difficult. That the independance I have was suddenly completely gone.
I know my knee will get better, I know that all will be well. I know that I will be well. But it was a harrowing glimpse at how hard the world could be - and how much I take my world for granted.
But, my world is my world, and however I experience it - vanilla will still taste like vanilla.