Friday, April 9, 2010

Holding my knee in absolute contempt

Well folks, it's that time of year again where I have to suffer some sort of freakish accident where I ruin my already damaged knee and find myself crippled and housebound. YAY! Except this time I didn't jump over a wall or chase after tall dark stranger to fall in front of 50,000 people outside a nightclub, noooo... I did it whilst eating a Wagon wheel and watching Coronation Street on the telly.

Basically I tore my Meniscus in my knee and chipped off some cartilage in a beautiful skiing accident three winters ago. It all happened on my second morning on the slopes, hungover from a night of absolute tyranny my two skiing companions forced me to take on an icy red slope (far too advanced for my limited skills) which concluded in me hurtling down the slope towards a huge steel bollard holding up the ski lift. In a moment of panic I turned my skis as hard as I could into the side of the mountain, hoping to slow down, but instead coming to an immediate halt and my boot staying wedged in the ski with my lower leg up right and the whole weight of my body falling over the opposite side creating a dramatic popping and cracking noise inside my leg.

I bit that snow so hard -roaring in agony. I'm known for my foul tongue but I think I outdid myself that morning cursing everything under the sun as I struggled to pop my boot out of the ski to relieve the pressure. As I regained vision I looked up at the ski lift all I could see were my 'cool' mates heading for the black slopes laughing their arses off at me creaming myself completely and utterly on this ridiculous ice mound! Some snowboards pulled over to ask if I was okay but I hadn't quite stopped swearing yet and kindly told them to leave me alone (delusional in pain). My ski companions ushered me to get up but I fell in agony once again drawing the attention of a 'mountain ranger' who called a snow mobile for me. Thinking I'd get a fun lift on one of those From Russia with love style ski jets, I can only tell you my horror as they strapped me into something that resembled a rucksack on poles. (Please check out picture above)

Anyway, to conclude from this, every few months or so I tend to do something that fucks up my knee. But who knew watching television and eating wagon wheels could be so dangerous!

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