Sporting leg ends bid for fame

My father told me at a very young age that pain was in the mind–the man was a trained mental nurse, so I believed his words. I tried hard to use my mind to deal with pain–and still do. It’s not easy and it’s not the cup of tea chosen by many. One of my army-bred, primary school soccer coaches–a stocky man, who liked to rap kids over the knuckles with a ruler–told me: “If you think you have been hurt and are lying on the floor, then count to ten. If the pain is still there, count to ten again. If you still think you have pain, count to ten again…”

But, if your threshold for pain is low or you have never had the joy of trying to breathe through it, then go ahead: “Oweeee! It’s my leg!” For real. No, not like Meadowlark Lemon hamming it up in his Globetrotter gear. Feel that searing pain of torn muscles; damaged tissues, deep inside. Reach for the pain killers.

I’m feeling for my friend, Rosie, who woke up a few mornings ago, fit as a fiddle and looking ahead to so much fun. Sports Day was here.

Move you foot!

Move you foot!

Time to roll back the years: men would be lithe-limbed boys again; women would be nimble, lissome and back to being young girls. Yelling. Waving. Cheering on. Running. Find your events, please. Where’s the harm in trying to have a bit of fun? “Well, let me tell you,” she said, “It’s right here, deep inside my hamstring.”

More than a feeling

More than a feeling

So, the doctor told Rosie that now she will have to be laid up for maybe six weeks. Life will be–what will?–is difficult: “You know when one is accustomed to using one’s leg, it’s hard not to. That said, I just aggravated the damn knee, trying to bathe. Now folks, I must tell you, bathing is impossible ’cause it’s hard to get into the tub and there are no shower stalls. So, bathing has to take place at the sink and difficult like a pain in the behind; standing without the crutch is next to impossible as I have to balance on one leg and that leg is not so too stable.”

If ever, Rosie needed to live up to her name as a riveter, it would be now, to try to bolt on a new limb that would work and be pain-free.

Better must come

Better must come

But, each day will be fraught with problems. Just take today: “Ok, so I got up this morning feeling good. I went to the bathroom; forgot I have a hamstring problem and ‘BOOM’ put the foot down wrong. The knee caved and well the icepack and I are some seriously good friends. It’s been keeping my knee company :-(“

All is not lost. DVDs have to be watched 🙂 Lincoln? Perfect. Where is that mythical, statuesque man, who can administer to a woman’s every need? I think, Rosie is feeling better already. Mind control time. Breathe in. Hold. Exhale. Hold. Breathe in…

The Help

The Help


About The Grasshopper

Professional international economist, recently retired from an international organization. I use blogging as a way of organizing my ideas and thoughts about a range of topics. I was born in Jamaica, and spent many years being educated, living, and working in the UK. I lived in the USA for a few decades, and worked and travelled abroad extensively. My views have a wide international perspective. Father of girls. Also, married to an economist.
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