I have what can only be described as a SPORTING INJURY! Not quite your Cruciate Ligament malarkey but I do have a Meniscal Tear which explains the past three months of knee instability & waves of agony. Of course I didn’t get this injury doing any actual SPORT, but I did manage to recreate the ‘firmly planted foot with weight-bearing plus lateral twisting’ in the comfort of my own home & within the confines of my MS doddery walking technique. Quite the achievement really.
When I first started needing support with walking I used crutches which, as I was walking quite far in them, gave me TENNIS ELBOW! See, I’ve got a theme going; non-sporty sports injuries!
In the long-distant past I did actually DO sports & have had some actual sports injuries. There was the time I had my chin split open by a hockey stick (very bloody & my own fault for being such a nippy defender & getting the ball from the girl who was just taking a golf swing at it), the blackened arm (due to a miscalculated dive into the swimming pool which resulted in said arm slipping behind the support bar which ran round the pool) and the black eye thanks to catching a cricket ball in the outfield WITH MY EYE SOCKET. I was also stung on the arse by a bee when playing Netball but that doesn’t really count.
So, despite my neurological state, it’s interesting to see that I’m as accident/injury-prone as ever. One of the earliest signs that things were going awry with me became dazzlingly apparent when I visited New Zealand in 2000. I was determined to see as much of the place as possible both with my friend, who I based myself with, & on my own. On my own ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD! It still thrills me that I went! Anyhoo, everywhere I went I FELL OVER. I fell UP the escalator in Auckland, grabbing a man’s crotch to save myself (I did apologise!), down the Hostel stairs in Picton, into the surf at Hot Water Beach (very gritty sand – looked like I’d flayed my skin on an asphalt road!) & into a thermal pool in Rotorua.
You’d think that such a spate of accidents would send a soul running to their GP but,as I’ve always been a bit clumsy & accident prone, I simply thought my ineptitude was having some sort of renaissance. I had the childhood reputation of being able to trip over the pattern on the carpet! Black & white birthday photographs reveal an ever-present elastoplast on my knee along with changing hairstyles & vanishing baby teeth.
Forty years later I’m nothing if not consistent!