I had an appointment with a physiotherapist today, to see what
he could offer by way of an opinion on my knee problem. First he listened to my
account of its history from 1987-present, then he pushed it, pulled it, pressed
it, twisted it, flexed it, and watched me walk up and down the room (minus my
jeans, heaven forbid, but I don’t think he was gay or anything.) After half an
hour he delivered his verdict: ‘You have a good knee.’ His considered opinion
was that I have a condition typical of people in mid life who were sporty in
their younger days. The knee cap and the grove in which it moves get worn, then
a little osteo-arthritis can set in and flare up occasionally. His advice was ‘Keep
it exercised, keep it warm, keep the quads (thigh muscles) strong, and you’re unlikely
to need a new knee for decades yet. Oh, and avoid stress because there’s a
strong correlation between stress and pain.’ Yeah, right.
* * *
Somebody has cleaned up most of the cigarette butts in lower
Market Place. Maybe they read my blog.
* * *
The woman who runs one of the charity shops found me a
nearly new lightweight sweater for summer wear, priced at only £2.50. It was
just about what I’ve been looking for over the past couple of months, and I
congratulated her. ‘You should have got a woman to help you look,’ she said.
Well now, maybe I should. I like her. She has a warm, open smile that carries
just a hint of potential mischief.
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