I Began to Fall: Always Look Before You Leap

Patience, will-power and time helped me heal myself after a disabling knee injury

They say accidents happen. And yes, when you are a little uncoordinated and free spirited like me — they actually do. But since the last trip left me questioning if I would return to 100 per cent mobility, I have become a lot more mindful regarding my physicality.

Let me tell you the story of how I survived a terrible fall, made an informed decision not to have knee surgery, but instead took steps to heal myself and learned so much along the way.

Lean On Me

Back in 2016 my partner and I were in the throes of love and it felt as if I was living a kind of dream. I was with the man I’d always wanted, and even though I was getting older I had taken care of myself, which boosted my self-esteem. At the time of my accident, we were on the island of Crete enjoying an amazing holiday.

One night we decided to eat at our apartment, which was literally above the seashore. We shared a bottle of plonk, chatted and listened to the waves crashing below. I can assure you a few glasses of wine doesn’t have much effect on my cognition. However, it is possible we were both a little high with endorphins from the wonderful evening we had been enjoying when on a whim, we decided to pop into town for a cocktail — via the beach.

That was a mistake as I don’t have hardly any night vision and neither of us thought to take a torch. Also, when we came to the stone steps — with some shattered edges — which led to the sea, my partner just skipped down them as agile as a mountain goat.

What could go wrong, I thought? I managed them easily enough in the daylight hours. So I followed him. The fact I couldn’t see didn’t seem to have a baring on my decision.

“Look before you leap…” — Aesop

Look? My ego stepped in and told me that if he could dance down those steps, then I could leap down them too.

I made it to the second one… then, I started falling — sideways towards the pebbled beach about ten feet below, as my foot dislodged a precarious stone.

Now, that’s quite a long way to drop. Many things went through my mind in those seconds. For a moment I thought I may be about to die. My landing would surely be on the jagged rocks directly under the stairs. But then, in mid-fall, luck must have been with me. Somehow, through the darkness, I spied the brightly coloured shirt my partner was wearing and managed to twist my body and land directly on top of him. We both fell on to the beach stones, but he provided a cushion for me, breaking my fall slightly.

As we just lay there for a moment, it felt wonderful to realise I had not hit my head on a rock and I instinctively knew I hadn’t broken skin or even bones. However, there was something dreadfully wrong with my right leg. I was in agony.

To be honest, I was quite content resting and putting off the inevitable, but my partner felt we needed to get up and head into town as planned. Attempting to ignore the pain — hoping it would just go away — I agreed. I think both of us were suffering from shock.

Pulling me to my feet I stood on my left leg and used him as a crutch. So far so good. But when I moved my right leg forward, to walk, it simply gave way. Buckled beneath me, folded as if the joint had disappeared. I ended up in a heap on the ground.

The cocktail would have to wait.

Returning via the steps was an impossibility, as was leaning on my partner’s arm. It seemed my right leg was completely useless. We could have probably managed with him and a stick but we were not thinking straight. However, there was a slope which would take us up to street level. But I would have to shuffle on my bottom, backwards.

This took a lot of time and discomfort, from my injury and also my legs were bare. Finally, we got into our room. Surveying my knee, it was obvious I had sustained a very bad injury of some sort. It had already begun to balloon into a football, so we wrapped it in a towel filled with ice and tried to sleep.

I will never forget that night. The pain was excruciating and something told me my life was going to be on hold for quite a little while and my independence would no longer be possible.

I would literally and metaphorically need to lean on my partner.

And you know what? — I was not wrong.

Assessing the damage

After very little sleep, we woke to the crashing waves and sun streaming into the room. I needed help getting to the bathroom and back. My right knee was the size of a rugby ball, and the surrounding skin had tightened and was beginning to turn purple and blue.

We were due to get our flight home four days later. It was clear I would not be able to travel. One of the main problems was I couldn’t bend my leg in the slightest.

Luckily, the guy who owned the holiday lets agreed we could stay longer, although we would need to move rooms. I spoke to the airline and they let us change the date of the flight and said they would also make provisions for me to travel with my injury.

Naturally we had our computers with us so checked out what we thought may have happened to my knee. The information we found all pointed to cartilage damage of one kind or another. As we were staying in a remote part of Crete a doctor’s opinion, at this point, was not an option.

So the good news was we had an extended holiday. The bad, I couldn’t go anywhere.

I was also exhausted. Needing to sleep a lot. Probably the pain and also the body going into some kind of shut down to save bodily resources for healing.

My partner took the bus into the major town and spoke to the pharmacist. They recommended some very strong painkillers, anti-inflammatory tablets and continued ice treatment.

Help available

The Cretans are a lovely race. Known as strong and able to overcome obstacles. Their history is very intriguing. A few of the locals from the taverna we often frequented, organized a car to take us to and from the restaurant and a special table, so I could have my leg stretched out. I have never forgotten their generosity. And would have quite happily stayed living amongst them for the rest of my days.

We flew home with little disruption as I was given a wheelchair, taken on to the plane last, and off first. Plus fast tracked through security.

Straight away we drove to our local Welsh hospital and were seen immediately.

Hospitals in Wales are very efficient. Upon examination the doctor was sure I was suffering from a tear in my meniscus cartilage which had then become trapped and was preventing my knee from bending at all, or straightening completely.

The consultant wanted me to stay in the hospital where I would receive an emergency MRI scan and be fast tracked into surgery to have my knee operated upon. And the recovery would be several months.

I felt overwhelmed. This was all happening too quickly. I was petrified and didn’t want an operation. But would my partner want me to stay and have one? I was going to be reliant on him, in this condition, for months — but I’d known people who had knee surgery and never quite recovered their mobility.

My intuition told me not to rush into this. That we needed time to discuss the options first.

Thankfully, my partner agreed.

MRI scan ~ Meniscus tear

We asked what the other options were and told I could become an out-patient. They would send me an appointment over the next few weeks for an MRI scan and then take it from there. We left with some crutches and a knee brace for compression, with instructions to keep using ice, elevate the leg and not walk at all for a week or so.

The MRI scan day came through a couple of months later and the results showed the consultant was correct. My knee was perfectly healthy apart from a torn piece of meniscus cartilage that had become trapped and was stopping joint movement in either direction. This also meant the injury did not occur because of degeneration within my knee.

It was explained what would happen in the operation and I was told I’d receive a date in due course. Apparently, with my kind of injury, time was not an issue. An operation today or in six months would have the same prognosis.

I was still not sure what I wanted to do but this gave me some breathing space to assess the situation. I began to research two things. First, about the medical side of my complaint and second, exercises I could do to help heal my leg.

Doing such homework helped me mentally as I had always been fiercely independent and now I even needed assistance to get dressed. By becoming informed, I felt I was able to take back some of the control I’d lost.

Taking control

I learned that apparently people who do not have the operation only make a good recovery two out of ten times. The doctor also confirmed this statistic.

I pondered, could I be one of the minority and heal myself?

I thought a good place to start would be physiotherapy, so rang a clinic. Unbelievably, they said that no therapy was available for my kind of knee problem. How strange — I began to search online.

It is always important to remember the internet is like a vast library — and similar to some newspapers — not all sites are telling the truth. Once I settled on a few therapists who were running videos on YouTube, I contacted an old friend who is a health professional. She assured me the exercises I had found would certainly not make anything worse. At first, I chose only the ones I could do laying down.

Every day, three times a day, I persevered with the exercises. Once more this was something which gave me a form of control over my circumstance.

After about a month I started to be able to move around more with my crutches, but as the offending leg could not be used as a prop this was difficult physical labour. However, very gradually the swelling started to go down and then I was able to use the tip of my toes when manoeuvring, even though I still couldn’t bend the leg at all.

Meniscus heal thyself

The appointment for the operation came through. It was in five months. At this point, twelve weeks had passed since that fateful day. And even though I didn’t seem to have made much progress with the flexibility of my leg, I was managing to get around more. I spoke to the local swimming pool and they said on occasions I could use the pool when there would be someone to assist me getting in and out. So I started swimming twice a week. This aided my recovery in a number of ways. The exercise supported my leg and gave me a chance to work on my upper body. Also, the endorphins helped my mental health.

I was still getting very weary. When a body has an extra load to deal with — and is trying to heal — tiredness is natural. Often I would have a nap in the afternoon. This became my part of my routine — swimming twice a week, laying down exercises, adding a few standing up, plus a nap.

By the time the operation date neared, I had improved greatly. My leg was not repaired by any means, and mostly I used one crutch, but I would occasionally simply limp along. Particular in my wellies over uneven terrain. My work involved horse care and as I walked across muddy fields my knee got stronger.

At this point I made a big decision. To continue to heal myself.

I spoke to the hospital and told them I wouldn’t need the operation. The receptionist was very understanding and said she would book me in again for six months time and if I didn’t get back to her, she would then cancel.

I never got back to her.

Thoughts

In my opinion, one should think very seriously before having an operation, particularly if your complaint is not life-threatening. Mine was slowly improving with each day. I was patient. After two years, I had only a very slight limp.

Today, it is five and a half years since I had the accident, and I believe my knee is 99% what it used to be. Which to me is a miracle. The consultant could not give me a guarantee it would repair this well, even after surgery. I spoke to some people who did have the operation and most took many months to recover, and some not as thoroughly as I have to date.

Possibly, the reason the statistics states only two out of ten make a recovery without the operation is because hardly anybody has the perseverance, or time, to wait and see if the meniscus does heal, without intervention.

Most are rushed into theatre within a couple of months of the accident so the statistics don’t give a true picture. I was also lucky there was no other damage to my knee. It had not worn in any way, over the years.

Surgery

The surgery would have involved cutting the piece of meniscus to stop the blockage. However, by consistently doing the exercises and walking, I appear to have worn the bit of cartilage down. Now, I have virtually complete flexibility in the joint once again.

I am not recommending everyone who is cursed with a knee injury use their own initiative and try to see if it heals first. But I am suggesting you take a rational LOOK at the problem BEFORE making that final LEAP.

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