Dammit

I came a cropper going down the stairs tonight at the gym. It wasn't a big cropper. It didn't happen while I was working out, it was after and it wasn't because of the heavy leg session to which Cleo subjected me (Squats, lunges, hip thrusters, leg presses - you name it, we did it). 

Any anybody who knows me will recognise that I am overly cautious going down stairs at the best of times. And these stairs are steep, with an overhead light on a timer switch, and as I was on the last step of the first flight, I was startled by somebody coming out of the Barre Studio beneath the gym. Slipping, I missed a stair and landed heavily on my right leg, jarring my knee. 

On the good side of things, the leg is weight bearing and mobile. On the not so good side of things, it's bloody sore.

I hate knee injuries. And this is the knee which always gives me grief. 

Driving home was a tentative affair, being that you need your right leg for both the brake and the accelorator. I made it home without incident. 

Arriving home, it was straight to the freezer. There are two bags of peas in there. One bag is for eating. The other one, which has been in my freezer for over ten years, is my ice pack. Lying down on the couch, I put my leg up and iced my knee. After a shower, I got the bang bang machine (tympanic massager) onto the muscles around it .

It's still sore. It might be sore for a few days. 

But I don't like being injured - especially of it cuts into my walking time - as the trick with bung knees is to stay off them until they don't hurt any more. 

Dammit.

Today's Song: