Week 10: Every Day's a Knee Day
I never know which knee I will wake up with in the morning. One morning, Lefty is an angel. The next, Lefty might be cranky. It depends somehow on my position during sleep, but--seeing as I tend to be asleep and have not yet become capable of spying on my knees in my dreams--I haven't quite figured out that puzzle. I could set up a nanny cam, I suppose, but... seriously, is it really that important? Things are better week by week.
This morning Lefty woke up in a good mood and so I took the knees on a short walk. Short because it was 82 in the shade out there at 6 am and will be 97 shortly. So we got a half mile of walking in and that was enough to loosen up the twins while not making me so dewy as to need to take a shower. That Lefty remains stiffer than Righty at all times is just something I must live with for now. The good news is I can walk just about as far as I want to without my knees complaining about it. About how I sleep? Oh, yes, that they complain about. About how far I walk? Not yet. I am increasing my distance and time incrementally and next week is three big blocks (about two miles). I think I could walk much further, but am wary about trying to do so without backup, which would be Mr. Shoes able to come fetch me in a car. So I'll just keep stretching my walks out one block at a time.
Slow and deliberate has been good to me. Make no mistake about my determination to recover every possible bit of function in my knees. I just know these things don't happen overnight. Unlike machines, where you replace a part and can drive out of the garage and onto the highway, bodies have their own timeline. You replace the part and all the stuff surrounding that part are going, "What the

?" A hundred things have to settle down. Some have to grow and adapt. Others have to stretch and reshape. These things take time. And there's really no predicting exactly how long that will take in patient A as opposed to me, patient B. There are averages. Am I average? I have no clue. So I just go along with what my body is doing and figure it will get there.
Trust the body. It know what it's doing in there. I think. I can't tell, but I think it's doing things. Bodies aren't big on talking unless they are VERY happy, or very unhappy.
Today mine seems content. Maybe it was last night's outing. Getting out of the house and doing romantic things is a great distraction. Then again, it might have been the dessert. Nothing like a chocolate-y, sugar-overdose Dream Bomba to blitz the brain and make the registering of pain impossible.
Tomorrow is Family Saturday again. I think we're cooking out. We'll see which knees show up to the party.