Superman's Dead

Yesterday they changed my cast.

Three weeks already and only three left. I’m half-way!

The surgeon cut the old one with a drill and wrapped my leg up with the same baby blue resin bands from my hip down to my toes. MERRY CHRISTMAS! Loving my extra present.

In-between, I had the opportunity to admire my dead-white leg.

“Ch-ch-ch-ch-chaaanges”

My skin is naturally white but I discovered that it could get whiter than white. I won a couple of extra hairs – I’m not a hairs-lover but I convey it’s kind of natural after three weeks in the warm cavity of the cast. But what bothered (and bothers) me the most is that my thigh and my calf are missing. Seems that they took some holidays for the festive season. I am *not* OK with it. At all.

COME BACK HOOOME! [call of distress]

News of my Knee for Nosey People

Before dedicating an article to the World Cup in Toronto, I’d like to share an unfortunate consequence: My knee didn’t survive the tournament, which led to a couple of misfortunes…

I know the question is burning your lips: How did it happen?

I took a hit, fell on both my knees like a rock’n roll guitar player (hell yeahh). And basically that’s it: hyperflexion and bad luck.

It didn’t hurt. My leg just wouldn’t respond – which is quite annoying when you’re in the middle of a jam. Made me think it was not a big deal at first. But seeing no improvement whatsoever and still feeling no pain as days went by, I started wondering – eh!

As soon as I came back from Toronto, I followed the advice of the physiotherapist: I saw a good bunch of practitioners (thanks dad) and did a MRI.