Knees

It's a picture of my knees. Woo hoo. The yellow-stain under my left knee is cos I haven't washed my leg properly since last Wednesday, and they cover you with that weird iodine stuff when they operate. The two dressings on my knee cover the very precise keyhole, err, holes they made during the op, and the one on my thigh is where they put a dirty great tube to drain off the blood. I have to keep the dressings dry until they come off in 10 days, hence the no-washings.

It's not that swollen, but I'm still under strict instructions to keep it rested and iced. To be honest, if I do so much as walk up the stairs it aches loads, so it's for the best. I'm just glad it doesn't hurt like when I injured it in the first place - that was eye-watering, can't-move-at-all pain that I'd rather not experience again. I just need to put all this rest to good use: blog waffle, laptop idiocy, and beard growth.

Exercises

It's pretty boring, this staying-at-home-and-waiting-for-your-knee-to-get-better lark. For those that want to know about these things, my knee is pretty stiff, but not too painful. I can put weight on it, which actually makes things more frustrating - I've been told I need to rest it properly, so I can't go gadding about into, err, Swindon.

They've given me some exercises to do, which look a bit like these, but with better drawings. Basically, they involve sitting down and contracting my fast-disappearing leg muscles. The new ligament is apparently at its strongest immediately after the operation (cos it's still got oxygen pumping around it or summat), but then it gets weaker after two weeks, so I'll need to make sure I don't overdo it.

I'll see the physio in two weeks and then step up the exercises, and go back to work. All the stuff I've read online seems to suggest I'll be playing football again after about 8 to 12 months. It seems like ages away, but I'm determined to turn out for the Street before the year's out. In the meantime, I've got a whole lot of tedious swimming and other physio-crap to be getting on with.

Injuries

I'm injury prone. It's a harsh truth, but one I've come to cope with over time. I asked my physio once why it might be so, and she said it's because I have joints which 'hyper-extend' or some-such. I think she was being kind. Mind you, I do have flat feet, and I don't think that helps at all, what with the pressures on the ankles, knees, groin, back and all sorts. Anyway, for those who want to feel smug in their injury-free lives, here's a quick run-down of all the injuries in my life so far:

broken wrist (aged 12, trying to save a penalty)
broken collar bone (aged 13, falling over in the box a la Cobham)
broken wrist, again (aged 13, can't remember how)
broken big toe (aged 15, 'moshing' in my mate's bedroom)
numerous heavily sprained ankles (aged 19-25, all playing football)
cracked rib (aged 25, when we lost 10-0 to East Oxford, and one of them kung-fu kicked me)
groin strain (aged 26, when we beat North Oxford and I got booked for calling the ref 'surreal')
sprained medial ligaments, right knee (aged 27, trying to foul someone v Testworth)
ruptured anterior cruciate ligament, left knee (aged 28, err, jumping in the air and landing)

Oh dear, I'll stop there. I think I'm getting a bit Martin Scarfe.