Four and one half weeks ago I was pushing my cart in the market in a hurry to get home when I slipped on a peach or nectarine on the floor. I went down hard on my weak knee, previously hurt by a jump from a rock when I was in a park with my grandson. Although that knee has not ever fully healed from the torn ligament, I have been able to do almost anything I want, except that I cannot race up and down stairs.
This last fall was directly on my kneecap, and did it hurt by the time I arrived home. In the next few days, I was able to do most chores around the house, to cook (cooking is considered my most important skill by my family), and to take a shower. However, sitting down and rising up again as well as walking was excruciatingly painful. And when I put my leg up on the sofa or the bed, I had to lift it with my hands. Gradually, I was able to start doing more things, such as watering my flowers, walking without limping, and eventually driving.
Yesterday, I began to feel like myself again, going for a short ride to the Danville Farmers’ Market on my bicycle. It was great to feel the soft breeze on my skin as my husband and I traversed Danville Blvd. and to propel myself forward with each turn of the pedals. I had missed the joy of being out on the road, talking to people, and doing chores. I was jealous each time my husband had set out without me but actually glad that he was able to get out. Cycling has become our passion and our way of life, and at our time of life a gift that we cherish.