I'm writing a book. Not necessarily now. It might happen when I'm 80. Actually, it'll probably be funniest when I'm 80....maybe when I'm recovering from a knee replacement. The book will be a memoir of my knee's life experiences told from my right knee's point of view. I can already see it on the bestseller list.
The said knee has been through some traumatic experiences in it's short life so far. I can't remember what it went through as a child, I'm sure it had rough days when I fell off my bike or fell rollerblading or when it had it's first encounter with hydrogen peroxide.
College was probably even rougher on my knee. One fine day my Freshmen year on the quad, I borrowed a friend's shoes to go inside the student center to use the loo, but these shoes were too small, so when I was returning to my circle of friends, I tripped on some gravel and my knee took a hit for the rest of me. I tried to play it cool like any Freshmen would, but the blood oozing down my shin blew the cover of all my lies "I'm okay, really, I'm fine." (hint....when I say that I never mean it).
I'm honestly getting tired of people asking, "What's wrong with your leg (or knee)?"! Okay, I get it! I have an ugly knee! This traumatic experience my Freshmen year has scarred me. The wound didn't heal (I probably needed stitches in the first place). A few weeks later, I was home chasing my little brother around the dining room table, dove for him, and the wound reopened with carpet burn (leaving a little blood on my mom's white carpet...no worries, rubbing alcohol does miracles!). I can't remember every time I've fallen since then, but let's just say I'm a pretty regular klutz. My knee wound has had rough days. Sometimes it would swell up really big, then other days it would be "fine".
Junior year was a rough year for it. I went skiing over Jan term (let's just say skiing won't be my key to getting to the Olympics). I got back to the cabin after a long day of skiing (and falling) and found my long johns all bloody from my poor knee! Weeks later Step Sing practice began. The crazy dances of step sing require you to kneel or fall suddenly to your knees...not okay. I also took Karate that semester (again...another activity I'm not skilled in). In Karate we had to sit on our knees and bow before and after every class and do some stretches on our knees. All this made me develop fluid in my knee (aka, it swelled up so big I had kiwi stuck in my knee!). I went to "MedHelp" because I hate making appointments and waiting in waiting rooms (yeah, I know, I'm a spoiled doctor's kid). I'm not so sure if the doctor there made a good call in draining my knee and stuffing it. He essentially opened a wound that will never heal.
It's been ugly and purple every since, and my leg modeling career has gone down the drain. Senior year I got bad tendonitis in this knee and could've sworn it was connected to the ugly scar. X-rays and MRIs thought otherwise...actually, they couldn't see anything! I went to plastic surgeon (something I never thought I'd do). He said if I had surgery I'd have to keep my right leg straight (PERFECTLY straight) for 6 weeks. That means no driving, no climbing stairs, no jumping, swimming, running, no fun or independence for 6 weeks. Nah, I'm good.
Friday night I was walking down the street with my friends, stepped off the curb the wrong way, and I knew it was coming...the slow-mo fall. There was nothing to grab on to except the ground beneath my feet, so I did. In perfect slow-mo fashion, I dropped to my knees as if to say a prayer to Mary in the middle of the Dallas streets, then caught myself with my hands. "I'm okay, I'm okay," I laughed as I popped back up! "Whew, I knew that was coming. It's been a few months since I've fallen so I should've seen it coming." "MONTHS?" The girls I was with said?! "More like years since I've fallen down!" What can I say? I'm clumsy. I need to go to finishing school...I'm not finished yet. My main concern was that my jeans had ripped...nope! Great! Next, was I bleeding? The left knee was great....but surprise surprise, the right knee was gushing! Some strangers walking by (who luckily hadn't seen me fall) offered a pack of Kleenex. We didn't have any band-aid so the Kleenex worked until we got home. This fall was exactly like the fall at Cinque Terra (minus the gorgeous scenery). I have a nice pic of me and my friends with the cute little village of Vernazza in the background and blood running down my leg. That's one for the scrapbook.
So, to answer the question of what's wrong with my knee....read the book when it comes out in 60 years, written by a poor old battered replaced knee. (It'll be a tear jerker).
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