My knee seems to be healing nicely from arthroscopic surgery, no thanks to me. Last night Studly Doright commented on just how well I was doing.
“You’re hardly whining at all,” he said.
I thanked him, then said, “I just can’t believe how little pain I’m having.” And followed that statement up with an abrupt movement, a quick bend of the knee, that had me in tears.
So all night I worried that I’d undone all the good the surgeon had done. I iced the knee with a vengeance (like regular icing, only with a great deal of scowling), and kept it elevated.
This morning I’m fairly certain no real harm was done, but I feel chastened and now have no plans to move my knee ever again. Ever.