I want to rant, i don't care if you don't want to listen
The day after my injury, I started using elevators to and from the subway as often as possible. Both for the practical reason that it was painful to walk and that I was ... "wary" is too gentle a word, but "frightened" is to harsh ... of using the escalator. I leaned on the bannister and stood still whenever there was no way around using escalators, letting myself feel a little self-pity and a little quesy as well. Yes, I'm a baby.
After a couple days I was able to walk without a real limp. Though stairs still gave me trouble. Also, kneeling is still right out. Which means I sit on the couch for family prayer (which makes my kids not want to kneel) but also that I don't have to help work on my in-laws' kitchen. Yay!
Monday the elevator at the end of my trip was out of service, so I had to take the escalator that actually wounded me. Or else go to the far exit and show up above ground a full block from work. I'm lazier than I am babyish, so I rode the Escalator of Doom. My mind panic, but there was no shaking. This overcame pretty much all my psychosomatic problems. Yesterday I was back to business as usual as far as moving around is concerned.
The knee gets really irritated during the day, since the thick bandages annoy me greatly and so the stitches rub up against my jeans. Also, last night it was even more sensitive than usually, and I couldn't sleep. However,healing seems to be progressing. The bruises are gone and the ends of the wound seem pretty well closed. Down at the bottom is a giant black scab. The whole thing is already noticeably scarred.
and it ITCHES! Dear God it itches! Despite the pain reripping the wound would certainly cause, I sometimes feel a vertigo-like compulsion to scratch it violently till the itch disappears, as if I were a junky in need of a fix. Fortunately, I seem to have enough will power.
So far.
