March 3, 2016. That's when I couldn't take the pain in my left knee anymore and went to see the Orthopedic Specialist my doctor referred me to. And where I got a diagnosis of osteoarthritis, was told that my knee cartilage was pretty much gone, got a steroid shot, some pain pills, and a couple of sheets detailing exercises I should do for my knee.
Shortly before that visit I had to start carrying a cane around with me in my car, because I sometimes needed it to walk--and because I never knew when my knee would just quit on me.
Well. That was some eye opening shit, for sure.
Got to admit that part of me just thought, "Well, fuck it, then. I'm old. That shit just happens. So the end begins."
But another part of me knew that Jacqueline wanted me to take her back to New York City one more time. And there'd be a lot of walking. And she said that she wanted to climb The Statue of Liberty all the way up to the crown one more time.
So I got to work. First with the stretching exercises. It was pretty hard at first. One of the exercises required me to lift my leg and grab the ankle, like so--
--and I can remember that I had to kind of heft my leg up and try to grab the ankle before it fell back down. And I could only hold it for 15 seconds (rather than the required 30) for the first round, because if I tried to do it for longer than that my leg muscle would cramp up and hurt like a little bit of hell.
But I kept at it. And then I started riding my bike again. I knew that walking on the treadmill was out--because of the stress it puts on the knees. But I thought (correctly, as it turns out) that bike riding wouldn't adversely affect me. And I rode and I rode and I rode and I rode.
I began to notice some improvements.
For instance . . .
Before all this, I was starting to have trouble getting out of my car. I'd either have to grab the door frame and pull myself up or use my forearm as a fulcrum against the roof. I saw an ad for a thing called a Handy Bar (I think)--a mobility aid--and I thought pretty seriously about getting one. I sometimes struggled to lift my foot up far enough to wash the bottom of it in the shower. And cutting my toenails was no fun whatsoever.
Now, just a smidge over a year later . . . I'm a fucking ballerina, man. I actually enjoy doing those leg lifts. It feels Good to stretch out. I also do Toe Touches, and I've gone from being able to touch the floor with my fingertips to being able to touch all five fingertips to the floor, and I think palms down are in the future. And when I put my leg up on the edge of the sofa and bow my head towards my knee . . . I'm getting very close to being able to bump my nose against my patella.
And getting out of the car? Look, Ma, no hands. The bottoms of my feet are clean enough to eat off of. And my toenails are just amazingly beautiful and kempt.
So fellow Old Fat People, I know it's tempting to just say, "That's the Way It Is Now," and to stop kicking against the pricks. 1 And no doubt there are adversities that Lady Willpower & Todd Rundgrenish Determination will not surmount.
But sometimes . . . . It's worth it to hit it with your best shot.
Fire away.
1 Acts 26:14 And when we were all fallen to the earth, I heard a voice speaking unto me, and saying in the Hebrew tongue, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me? it is hard for thee to kick against the pricks.
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