The recovery from knee surgery continues. Like something from a biblical story, I cast aside my crutches for the first time today and ventured out into the Canary Wharf shops.
It feels strange, but liberating, to be walking without the crutches. The strangest thing is how everyone walking around me pays no attention to me, where previously most had been careful to give me a wide berth. I have to walk mindfully and make sure I’m not leaning to one side. I’m definitely walking slower than usual, but there’s no limp.
So I can cancel the order for the parrot and eye-patch for the moment…
Walking in front of mirrors at the physio was quite an eye-opener…weeks on two crutches left me leaning towards the left like an old fella!
So I made it out and back in one piece and feel no pain as a result. In my knee, that is. But the workout I gave my right quads, which have withered away in the last few weeks, left me feeling like I’ve just hiked a very, very tall mountain.
Physio exercises, as well as time on an exercise bike this morning, are all contributing to muscle growth. But that of course implies a certain level of… ouch. This week’s sessions using the physio’s EMS machine was quite the experience. As Sean Connery might say, it was “shocking”.
(I’ll get my coat)
Seriously, it’s hard to stifle a giggle (or a yelp!) in response to an electric shock in your thigh, while simultaneously trying to tense the very muscle that doesn’t work. In front of a stranger. While lying down.
And you can just make out – if you’re minded to look closely enough – the bald patches on my leg where previously-applied tape was removed after antagonising my skin last week.
I am never – ever – applying anything like that again without first shaving my leg(s). I’m just too hairy for all this nonsense. It’s like my sleep study all over again! Too many electrodes attached to too may hairy body parts.
But I’m taking all this muscle ache as a good side that recovery continues.
I went for a swim this evening in our pool and was very glad I had the place to myself. No stroke was easy and breast-stroke in particular left me looking like a drowning frog. Far from graceful, even for me.
So no running for another two months, but plenty of opportunity to cycle and swim my way back to a reasonable level of fitness.
And we won’t dwell on the 5kg I’ve put on in the last two months.
Not for a moment.
(Damn you, mince pies…)