For those of you who haven’t heard, I dislocated my right knee cap last week. It was really stupid: I was carrying the baby, and I tripped over the coffee table. Rather than fall on Alex, I twisted around and landed with my back against the front of the futon. But my lower right leg forgot to twist with the rest of my body, and POP went the knee cap.
In the past, I have broken several bones — one finger, both pinkie toes and my left leg — but none of that prepared me for the pain of dislocating my knee cap. Holy hell, that hurt. Thankfully, Stefanie was there and took the baby from me and called 911 while I tried to pound my knee back into place. I managed to get it mostly back in before I had to stop because I thought I might pass out from the pain. Never had that happen before.Anyway, the paramedics shot me up with some morphine and gave me an expensive ride to Salem Hospital’s emergency room.
X-rays showed no obvious knee damage, so I likely will avoid surgery, but I’m entering physical therapy as soon as the swelling goes down. I can walk now, a week and a half later, but I can’t bend at the knee and I limp like Dr. Frankenstein’s henchman.
The best news is that Alex was unhurt. He barely even noticed, which makes all of this worthwhile. And Andrew stepped up big by playing with Alex while Stefanie helped the paramedics. It was great to know that we could count on him in an emergency. I would do it all again if I had to, not just for Alex but for Andrew, too. But I really hope I don’t have to.