They say pride comes before a fall.
But I certainly didn't feel proud when I fell over in the street last week.
Especially as I splatted straight onto my knee.
The same knee that I had a series of operations on a couple of decades ago.
The one that has no cushioning in the joint.
The one that had me hobbling to grueling physio sessions 5 times a week for a year.
The one that took all that time to heal when I was in my 20s with supposedly fast powers of recovery.
The same one that is still swollen with technicolour bruising 6 days after I fell ...
Bugger.
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8 comments:
You poor thing! Many, many hugs.
Aw thanks, Pierre. I'm hoping that a combination of arnica and sympathy will ensure a swift recovery this time.
And another hug from me... take good care!
Don't do that ever again!
ow ow ow ow
It's looking satisfyingly spectacular - looks worse than it feels which is so much better than the other way round.
FB says it looks like I've spilled a bottle of ink over my knee. He has a good ear for a simile, that boy.
Pictures?
(good for the sympathy vote)
Oh no! I'm so sorry, Debi! Hope there's no real harm done.
Leslie - if I posted pix my blog definitely would be considered offensive.
Wordtryst - just call me Hopalong Chastity.
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