12 days ago while in Boston, I fell magnificently on my right knee getting on a trolley. Super embarrassed to do so in front of my colleagues, and grateful for a good man who let me use his thigh to push myself back up. There is near no mark and no bruise and no gaping wound. But that’s not what it feels like!
My bed is high. When I forget about it and use that knee to get into bed, it feels like I’m ripping open a 2 inch gash. When I put that knee down to get off the floor, it feels like I’m crushing the knee cap. Super tender to the touch.
Then yesterday in church I knelt on that knee for prayer far too quickly. Owe!!!! My intended prayer became “Dear God, please help me get back to my seat without cussing and screaming in pain!”
I just keep checking, and there is only a teeny, tiny mark. How is it possible for so much pain to be so invisible? I guess it’s just like migraines. Very little outward sign, but inward misery.
Moral of the story: The body is a cruel and hilarious mystery to me!
My knee, so little bruising or scraps, lily white
