Those who know me well, know that I have knee issues. This would be putting it mildly - let's just say, I was never meant to have knees. I was at the back of the queue when they were handing out knees. I got the leftovers. I have the knees of a 90-year-old pro American Football star quarterback. With bad knees.
Last night before going to sleep, I commented to Ian that my knee had felt a little funny during the day.
I woke up at 4am, unable to bend or straighten my leg out of the 45 degree angle I had slept in. Consultation with google has led me to believe that what I experienced this morning is Repetitive Strain Injury, which affects the tendons of the joint in question, which in my case is the Achilles Heel (anatomy-analogies gone wild here) of my knee problem.
Luckily, after a teary episode in which my consideration-embodied boyfriend helped me out, I fell asleep and this morning, it would seem that the RICE rule worked as promised and my knee has almost full range of mobility back again, if bent and unbent slowly. This has made it possible to go to work, take the stairs, and sit cross-legged, things I thought I wouldn't be able to do today in my panic-fueled state last night.
Small price to pay for sleeping with a bag of frozen peas on your leg.
Please, if any of you decide to become Nobel Prize winning doctors, consider focusing your efforts on developing an everlasting Titanium knee. Or one made out of the stuff they build the Space Shuttle from. You can call me Guinea Pig.
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