Just What I Kneeded

What happens after a life-altering knee injury?

Disturbia

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First of all, today marks 4 weeks since surgery (DeNovo NT tissue transplant and tibial tubercle osteotomy; aka FUN). Woo hoo! I feel like I need some celebratory cake. Anyone want to bring me something from The Flying Cupcake? Just so you know, I’d be super appreciative! And I like the Auf Wiedersehen (German chocolate), Here Comes the Bride (almond on almond), or the Pumpkin Spice (self-explanatory).

I don’t have much of an update on rehab. It’s ongoing. So I thought I’d cover the other things I’ve been up to while recovering. I can hear you thinking, “Now, what can she possibly be doing if she’s not able to venture outside, much less drive?”

Obviously, I’ve been spying on my neighbors. What else can I do while laid up in bed? I haven’t gone crazy and purchased high-powered binoculars or anything (yet). Haven’t needed to because there is so much going on close by. Most of it annoying. Most of it not illegal. So most of it boring.

I have new neighbors across the way who have three kids, all under the age of 6. They like to test lung capacity on a daily basis. This also tests my capacity for forgiveness. Who lets their kids run around outside screaming at the top of their lungs?? It’s like they lack common decency. Want to sleep in past 8 am on a Saturday? Too bad! Want a quiet night at home, just you and the Netflix? Too bad! This is in stark contrast to the small family on the other side who seem so nice! I haven’t talked to them much, but they are so polite every time we see each other. Plus, I actually think their kid is cute, and that definitely increases my capacity for tolerance. The screaming banshees? Not so much.

I have several ho-hum, run-of-the-mill neighbors. I don’t think they could be more boring if they tried. It’s not their fault. I didn’t let them know that they were supposed to be entertaining me during my convalescence.

The creepiest neighbor is one with whom I’ve never conversed. I don’t know if a nice introductory conversation would help make him less creepy or not. He moved in a while back with an older woman who I can only surmise is his mother because they both sport similar sour grapes frowns. I waved at them once, but that just made the frowns get deeper. He apparently comes home every day for lunch. That’s not interesting; it’s just a random fact I can share now that I’ve had time to track his every movement.

So far, I haven’t witnessed any of my neighbors doing anything illegal. But I’m not saying it hasn’t happened. I just haven’t witnessed it. I have sneaky neighbors.

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Author: Laura

I have a fern I named Frankenstein. I like leprechauns, practicing kung fu moves on my dining room furniture, and pretending that one day I will move to Fiji. I dislike my neighbors' kids, anything that is chartreuse, and Ben Roethlisberger.

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