On The Knees

Snow in the morning, sun through the day, right to the evening; walking from the canteen towards the bureau I pass melting snow heaps; patches of grey, dry, salty tar alternate with wet strips – and the frozen one at the windy corner of the old oxen stable that only looks wet. The young man walking to my left later said that I went down pretty elegant, no screaming, no ugly pattering noises – ten for style.
My left leg all of a sudden skidded sideways, I remember having brought up my left hand; nothing broken, no excoriation, a stain on  my working trousers. He helped me to get up, and we went to work.
The next morning was awful, getting out of bed alone took ten minutes. I seemingly rammed my left knee into Franconian tar, the tar won. Took me some time to find out how to “walk” without screaming out loud or falling down again, this leg now tends to “snap” away a bit: It’s one step ahead with the right one and pull the left one behind, call me Igor … I only now realized how many stairs I have to walk everyday, and especially train stations seem to consist of long stairways. “Climbing on the bus” is not an empty phrase anymore, no way to hop off … With the help of said young man I made it home in one piece. I smeared a handful of Voltaren© on the pulsating red thing that once was my left knee and went to bed.
Otherwise it was a very successful week: We photographed all the books, we corrected lists, etc.pp., all that is left is me pecking away on the keyboard until I reach the last data record, there is even a small chance that I finish it before the deadline, but I surely will not overrun for too long. Only the records, the papers and documents for the archives, are still  left untouched. I will at least clean and roughly sort them through.

12 thoughts on “On The Knees

  1. Oh, how I feel for you!
    And, by the way, you delivered that denouement beautifully. Hope it’s just a superficial injury that will fix itself in double quick time.

  2. So sorry you had such a tumble. I had one last winter down my back steps. Took three whole months for my right forearm to properly heal. Nothing was broken but the bruise was very deep.

  3. That sounds bad. Maybe go to Krankenhaus Erste Hilfe tomorrow and get some prescription anti-inflammation meds.

    PS: On Berlin TV, I watched a show about some Russian teenagers free-climbing a very tall abandoned tower in Russia. This tower but different kids.

  4. They are crazy, Doc.

    Erste Hilfe is nice, but why doctor the symptoms, let’s cure the disease.

    (Originally I wanted to link Tull’s Bring me my Broadsword, but I either was not allowed to watch it, thanks Gema, or it was a crappy version; so we have to whack it off I guess.)

  5. Ooo…nasty! I’ve sprained my knee a couple of times in my life and it’s not a happy experience at all.

    Hugs and hugs to you darling.
    xxxx

  6. You poor lamb. I know how you feel, earlier this year, I too took a tumble on the ice on a busy shopping street, I was help up by an oldish woman walking her dog, the only thing that was bruised was my ego, and why do people have to gawp? Hope your leg gets better soon.

  7. Oh Roses, your pink-fluffy-dressing-gown has magical powers!

    Yes, I felt a bit sheepish when I sat on the yard, dear Mitzi. It gets better every day, maybe I allow the doc a glimpse on my gorgeous gams just for fun …

    It’s cooling and anti-swell, Mistress.

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