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ventaI am currently in Whitby with all the little gothses. Whitby, as you may know, is unsportingly full of hills, so I'm a little weary from walking around and also from standing about in the Spa. I'm having a nice peaceful Sunday afternoon sit-down, and figured I'd do a little bit of light catching up on here.
Six weeks ago, when I made my next appointment to see the knee consultant, I was optimistic that by now I'd be able to travel to the hospital by myself. What I'd failed to realise, however, is that the hospital is a tricky venue to get to by public transport - especially if you're keen to miss out the 20 minute walk at one end. So I worked from home, and ChrisC sneaked out of work early to drive me there. The traffic is, apparently, much lighter on a Thursday and we arrived excessively early.
Mr Specialist waggled my knees around, and confirmed that he thought the medial and lateral ligaments were all healing as expected. My ACL is, unsurprisingly, still missing (and having its function tested is still unpleasant).
He suggested I came back in 8 weeks, at which time I should be walking reasonably normally, and it will probably be time to talk about surgery. Whether or not to have the surgery will still largely be my choice, but he still inclines towards the opinion that I will want it.
In the meantime, I should lose the Robocop leg brace and use just one crutch for getting about. And I should be back in the gym.
Back, you say. You may be working from a false premise.
Ok, I should get in the gym. In particular, I should be using an exercise bike on very low resistance.
Bah. I don't really like gyms. Could we compromise? How about swimming? Although I realised as I asked that there was probably going to be a flaw in that plan, as I can only really swim breaststroke. No! said Mr Specialist. Absolutely no breaststroke. OK, joining a gym it is.
I also asked him whether it was safe for me to drive, as I'd been beginning to feel like it might be possible. Yes, sure, so long as I checked I could do an emergency stop.
Ah.
Embarrassingly, that hadn't even occurred to me. I have yet to make the experiment of whether or not I have the muscle power in my right leg to slam the anchors on for a proper emergency stop. I do not look forward to trying.
I made my next appointment for early June. Apparently I will be "like a different person" by then. Mr Specialist was not specific about what manner of radical change I should be expecting.
A couple of days later, I rolled up to the physio for my weekly appointment and updated her on what the specialist had said. Definitely join a gym, she agreed. And she was very pro swimming but agreed: absolutely no breaststroke. She suggested that I did breaststroke arms, but kicked with my legs.
After a small amount of consideration, I decided that was well past pat-your-head-and-rub-yout-tummy territory and that I almost certainly could not do that. OK, well, hold a float with your arms and kick with your legs.
The physio also produced a machine called a "kneehab" - I imagine someone came up with the pun and then had to retrofit a use for the thing. A large neoprene wrap goes round your upper leg, and flat (and very cold!) pads make electrical contact with your muscles. It feels a bit like a sharp prickling, and appeared not to make my muscles contract in the slightest.
After ten minutes, we swapped to the other leg. The left-leg wrap immediately felt completely different; apparently no one ever really injures their left leg, so the left apparatus is basically as-new. The prickling started, and suddenly all the muscles in my left thigh leapt into action. Which was very disconcerting. Finding your leg muscles doing something you haven't told them to is a very strange sensation.
The physio reckons that my right muscles aren't very good at following instructions yet. I reckon the electrodes are just a bit worn and rubbish on the machine's right side :)
She dispatched me with some new exercises, and an instruction to get a foam roller. I asked whether I needed a smooth one like the one in her consulting room, or whether one of the cheapy textured ones they sell in TK Maxx would do. She considered briefly: it depends how much you want it to hurt.
I bought a smooth one.
After a lot of faffing around trying to get sense out of our work "benefits portal", I finally sorted out discounted membership of the leisure centre just down the road from my office. It has a pool - in fact, it has two, one indoor and one outdoor - and a gym, but the fact it brands itself as a leisure centre made me feel just slightly more at home. After work, I pottered on down for my minimalist work-out of exercise bike and legs-only swimming.
All in all, it was not a very fun experience. The polite and apparently-helpful chap who sorted out my contract was very solicitous about whether or not I could manage to walk (with my crutch) across the very small room we were in. But he didn't think to mention that the entrance, changing room, gym and pool are all on different levels and all require you to do stairs.
So I shuffled down the stairs, and discovered that the lockers take 20p coins. I had checked that I had 50p, 10p and £1 coins and thought I was ready for anything. So, back up the stairs to get change, and back down to get changed. They have handy, tall lockers so I popped my crutch in one and set off for the gym.
Which turned out to be some distance down a corridor, through a studio, and up some stairs. When I got there, it was a lightly terrifying room jam-packed full of machines. I fiddled about trying to get the height of the bike seat right, and eventually did my 15 minutes at low resistance. The bike I used was considerably lower-tech and older than the one next to it, but did have a useful LCD screen showing the relative power at different points of the pedal circle for each leg. I tried to keep them at 50/50, but left leg frequently nudged it up to 70/30 if I didn't concentrate.
Back in the changing room I fed the locker another 20p and headed off to the pool. Which turned out, again, to be down a long corridor and up stairs. An extremely cold, wet staircase. Next time the crutch is definitely not staying in the locker. The indoor pool was in use by a scuba diving club, so my options were limited to the outdoor pool. Which, though heated, wasn't quite as warm as I'd hoped. I grabbed a float and set off.
Very, very slowly.
I am beginning to wonder if the reason I've always been crap at front crawl is that my legs don't kick very well. They certainly don't now, anyway. Even in the slow lane, the regular swimmers whizzed past me. Halfway through my first length, I realised that despite kicking as hard as I could my negligible progress had slowed and I genuinely wasn't moving at all. Then someone swam the opposite way along the other side of the lane, and their wash actually sent me backwards :(
I persevered for 8 lengths[*], then decided it hurt and I was bloody freezing. On the plus side, the slow-lane swimmers were friendly ("this is the mad lane, anyway") and very nice about this hugely slow-moving person cluttering up the place. On the couple of occasions when I tried to move quickly out of someone's way, my legs automatically started trying to do the breaststroke frog kick. Mr Specialist and the physio are right: that is not a good idea.
I didn't have another 20p to feed the locker, so skipped on a shower. (Ordinarily I wouldn't bother about leaving my things unattended, but having my work laptop with me makes me distinctly paranoid about leaving the locker door unlocked while I head off to the showers. I can't remember when I was last somewhere where the lockers ate money, but it's a stupid system and quite irrationally annoying.)
So all in all, not a compelling experience. I feel I was somewhat mis-sold on the leisure centre, but it probably still remains the best bet for proximity to my office. Membership also allows me to use all other branches in the chain, and there's one reasonably convenient for home, as well. I'm supposed to be going three times a week - I shall attempt to keep the whinging to a minimum :)
[*] I couldn't quite figure out how long the pool was, but Wikipedia he say that the outdoor pool is a non-standard 27.5m.
Six weeks ago, when I made my next appointment to see the knee consultant, I was optimistic that by now I'd be able to travel to the hospital by myself. What I'd failed to realise, however, is that the hospital is a tricky venue to get to by public transport - especially if you're keen to miss out the 20 minute walk at one end. So I worked from home, and ChrisC sneaked out of work early to drive me there. The traffic is, apparently, much lighter on a Thursday and we arrived excessively early.
Mr Specialist waggled my knees around, and confirmed that he thought the medial and lateral ligaments were all healing as expected. My ACL is, unsurprisingly, still missing (and having its function tested is still unpleasant).
He suggested I came back in 8 weeks, at which time I should be walking reasonably normally, and it will probably be time to talk about surgery. Whether or not to have the surgery will still largely be my choice, but he still inclines towards the opinion that I will want it.
In the meantime, I should lose the Robocop leg brace and use just one crutch for getting about. And I should be back in the gym.
Back, you say. You may be working from a false premise.
Ok, I should get in the gym. In particular, I should be using an exercise bike on very low resistance.
Bah. I don't really like gyms. Could we compromise? How about swimming? Although I realised as I asked that there was probably going to be a flaw in that plan, as I can only really swim breaststroke. No! said Mr Specialist. Absolutely no breaststroke. OK, joining a gym it is.
I also asked him whether it was safe for me to drive, as I'd been beginning to feel like it might be possible. Yes, sure, so long as I checked I could do an emergency stop.
Ah.
Embarrassingly, that hadn't even occurred to me. I have yet to make the experiment of whether or not I have the muscle power in my right leg to slam the anchors on for a proper emergency stop. I do not look forward to trying.
I made my next appointment for early June. Apparently I will be "like a different person" by then. Mr Specialist was not specific about what manner of radical change I should be expecting.
A couple of days later, I rolled up to the physio for my weekly appointment and updated her on what the specialist had said. Definitely join a gym, she agreed. And she was very pro swimming but agreed: absolutely no breaststroke. She suggested that I did breaststroke arms, but kicked with my legs.
After a small amount of consideration, I decided that was well past pat-your-head-and-rub-yout-tummy territory and that I almost certainly could not do that. OK, well, hold a float with your arms and kick with your legs.
The physio also produced a machine called a "kneehab" - I imagine someone came up with the pun and then had to retrofit a use for the thing. A large neoprene wrap goes round your upper leg, and flat (and very cold!) pads make electrical contact with your muscles. It feels a bit like a sharp prickling, and appeared not to make my muscles contract in the slightest.
After ten minutes, we swapped to the other leg. The left-leg wrap immediately felt completely different; apparently no one ever really injures their left leg, so the left apparatus is basically as-new. The prickling started, and suddenly all the muscles in my left thigh leapt into action. Which was very disconcerting. Finding your leg muscles doing something you haven't told them to is a very strange sensation.
The physio reckons that my right muscles aren't very good at following instructions yet. I reckon the electrodes are just a bit worn and rubbish on the machine's right side :)
She dispatched me with some new exercises, and an instruction to get a foam roller. I asked whether I needed a smooth one like the one in her consulting room, or whether one of the cheapy textured ones they sell in TK Maxx would do. She considered briefly: it depends how much you want it to hurt.
I bought a smooth one.
After a lot of faffing around trying to get sense out of our work "benefits portal", I finally sorted out discounted membership of the leisure centre just down the road from my office. It has a pool - in fact, it has two, one indoor and one outdoor - and a gym, but the fact it brands itself as a leisure centre made me feel just slightly more at home. After work, I pottered on down for my minimalist work-out of exercise bike and legs-only swimming.
All in all, it was not a very fun experience. The polite and apparently-helpful chap who sorted out my contract was very solicitous about whether or not I could manage to walk (with my crutch) across the very small room we were in. But he didn't think to mention that the entrance, changing room, gym and pool are all on different levels and all require you to do stairs.
So I shuffled down the stairs, and discovered that the lockers take 20p coins. I had checked that I had 50p, 10p and £1 coins and thought I was ready for anything. So, back up the stairs to get change, and back down to get changed. They have handy, tall lockers so I popped my crutch in one and set off for the gym.
Which turned out to be some distance down a corridor, through a studio, and up some stairs. When I got there, it was a lightly terrifying room jam-packed full of machines. I fiddled about trying to get the height of the bike seat right, and eventually did my 15 minutes at low resistance. The bike I used was considerably lower-tech and older than the one next to it, but did have a useful LCD screen showing the relative power at different points of the pedal circle for each leg. I tried to keep them at 50/50, but left leg frequently nudged it up to 70/30 if I didn't concentrate.
Back in the changing room I fed the locker another 20p and headed off to the pool. Which turned out, again, to be down a long corridor and up stairs. An extremely cold, wet staircase. Next time the crutch is definitely not staying in the locker. The indoor pool was in use by a scuba diving club, so my options were limited to the outdoor pool. Which, though heated, wasn't quite as warm as I'd hoped. I grabbed a float and set off.
Very, very slowly.
I am beginning to wonder if the reason I've always been crap at front crawl is that my legs don't kick very well. They certainly don't now, anyway. Even in the slow lane, the regular swimmers whizzed past me. Halfway through my first length, I realised that despite kicking as hard as I could my negligible progress had slowed and I genuinely wasn't moving at all. Then someone swam the opposite way along the other side of the lane, and their wash actually sent me backwards :(
I persevered for 8 lengths[*], then decided it hurt and I was bloody freezing. On the plus side, the slow-lane swimmers were friendly ("this is the mad lane, anyway") and very nice about this hugely slow-moving person cluttering up the place. On the couple of occasions when I tried to move quickly out of someone's way, my legs automatically started trying to do the breaststroke frog kick. Mr Specialist and the physio are right: that is not a good idea.
I didn't have another 20p to feed the locker, so skipped on a shower. (Ordinarily I wouldn't bother about leaving my things unattended, but having my work laptop with me makes me distinctly paranoid about leaving the locker door unlocked while I head off to the showers. I can't remember when I was last somewhere where the lockers ate money, but it's a stupid system and quite irrationally annoying.)
So all in all, not a compelling experience. I feel I was somewhat mis-sold on the leisure centre, but it probably still remains the best bet for proximity to my office. Membership also allows me to use all other branches in the chain, and there's one reasonably convenient for home, as well. I'm supposed to be going three times a week - I shall attempt to keep the whinging to a minimum :)
[*] I couldn't quite figure out how long the pool was, but Wikipedia he say that the outdoor pool is a non-standard 27.5m.
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no subject
Date: 2016-04-24 01:20 pm (UTC)I don't like gyms either. You have my sympathy. For all of it.
no subject
Date: 2016-04-24 04:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-24 05:15 pm (UTC)I've always wanted an athema!
no subject
Date: 2016-04-24 06:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-24 05:10 pm (UTC)GothbyWhitby this weekend too!no subject
Date: 2016-04-24 08:44 pm (UTC)I don't know if it'd help but maybe ask ms. Physio about exercises to do in the pool rather than swimming? Things like pushing down a float 8X balanced under one foot whilst holding the side was VERY useful (if rubbish at the time!) with regaining my knee use. Maybe a hydrotherapist could be hired to meet and work with you at Leisure centre? Well worth it if possible. And Stuart, ms. Physio boss, is a big fan of hydro.
no subject
Date: 2016-04-25 03:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-04-25 01:14 pm (UTC)Glad to hear you're progressing well though. Were the Young 'Uns good?
Oxford folk weekend was a proper rapper experience for our new Mabels. We had an impressive finger blooding (amazingly no blood on shirts, we suspect it all went into the culprits pocket and across the underside of her nose when she tried to wipe it), a chucking out from a pub (The Turf, not as rapper friendly as advertised in the festival programme, or indeed, at all) and a falling over (followed by an impressively fast bounce back up complete with slightly startled expression). See what happens when you leave us unsupervised!
no subject
Date: 2016-04-26 06:03 pm (UTC)Except I can only have half a kudo, because it's actually Everything Louder than Everything Else, despite me being misled by the memory of the lyric 'a wasted youth is better by far than a wise and productive old age'. I googled it after typing the first line of this comment. Now I may just go dig out Bat out of Hell 2 for this evening's entertainment.