So, I am now going through the long process of getting my MCL and ACL surgically repaired through the NHS. It bugs me that I didn’t take the seriousness of the injury from the start. But being advised that it was just ‘stretched ligaments’, I just thought I was being a pansy and the pain was not as bad I thought.
After some friendly advice, I reluctantly parted ways with my money and decided to visit a private sports consultant. Being expected to be told it was just some small ligament damage, I thought one visit would be enough and I would be told that it was just minor ligament damage. Alas, the NHS were wrong and I was then faced with the daunting thought of surgery and 9 months of rehab before returning to sports – if I even chose to go back.
As I was advised on what to do next by the consultant, I embarked on my first steps to rehab and chasing the NHS. I have been instructed to do everything I can to build the knee up apart from the one thing I want to do – to run!
Unfortunately, life does choose to throw obstacles like this to test you and to help you grow. It is just a shame that the mental part of rehab is incredibly draining.
The patience and discipline you need to possess really pushes you to your limits. The slow progress and the occasional setbacks can often feel make or break – I know this from 6 months of rehabilitation from tearing my achilles 2 years back.
But I accept this challenge reluctantly. It’s all character building in my eyes. If I could overcome it before I will do it again and I will just have to come out stronger than before.
For now I am having fun with it. I had my first X-ray yesterday on my knee which was surprisingly funny.
I had my appointment with my GP and I was swiftly referred to the X-Ray unit. As I get there, I sit and wait; I dawns on me that I am slightly overdressed. The only reason I am even back in town is because it was my Grandad’s funeral.
After patiently waiting to be seen, I am called in. The old women radiographer was slightly shocked to see such a well dressed man sat in her waiting room.
When I get into the room I don’t really know where to place my coat and book. The kind lady tells me to leave it on the chair and to drop my trousers – thankfully, I did not have my novelty underwear on this time – and to stand against the wall with my right knee placed on the cold X-Ray plate. Of course I knew this had to happen, I just didn’t think I would find it as funny as I did.
Anyway, I am stood there with my shinny black shoes and my trousers around my ankles. Throwing all the awkward knee poses I could for the radiographer.
I thought I would only have to have my x-ray taken standing up. You know, one from one angle and another from a different angle. I was wrong, I was order to go across the room and lay on my side on the bed.
Seeing as it seemed like such a short distance to the bed, I didn’t deem it necessary to pull up my trousers. So with my shoes on and my trousers around my ankles, I proceeded to waddle across the room. My belt was jingling with each step; the restricted movement made me smile as all I could think of is this is how shackled prisoners feel when they walk.
As I lay on the bed the radiographer pulled me about and left me in the position of some sort of page 3 girl from the sun – obviously not as pretty, nor as scantily clad. As I lay there, I wonder how many people she has seen in these predicaments, or if she had seen somebody just not take any of this serious.
Once she had confirmed that the pictures came out okay and she had promised not to sell them for her own personal gain, I went about my day and headed to the funeral.
Now I have the next step in my battle with this and that is to visit the orthopaedic specialist. I will continue to stay strong and work myself back to health.
Now doubt there will be more testing days to come, but for now, back to my studies.
P.S. it makes a change for me to post about this as opposed to my poor poetry.