Just What I Kneeded

What happens after a life-altering knee injury?

Little sister

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I owe my sister. I’m ok with that because she’s a good person. She’s generous to a fault, even if she does give me a lot of crap when I ask her to do something. It’s all in good humor. I think.

My sister is the reason I got through the first few nights and days after surgery. She left her kids at home 2 hours away to come stay with me because she was the one I wanted there with me before and after surgery. She didn’t plan on staying with me at the hospital through the night, but she knew I didn’t really want her to leave even though I couldn’t ask her to stay. So she slept in a chair next to my bed that first night. She even helped the night nurse prep me for the bed pan. That’s not as weird as it sounds; she has her nursing degree, so she’s seen it all before.

She took charge the minute I was ready to go home and got everything ready before dragging me out of the car and into the house. She was the one who came down the first weekend and helped me take my first post-op shower. That experience was rather humbling, and I don’t know the right words to say thanks for that. She was the one who changed my dressing and helped get my TED stocking on and off when all I really wanted to do was curse at the pain. She came back the second weekend and listened to all my complaining and moaning about how miserable I was. And then, despite my bad attitude, she still took me on my first outing to the park the next day.

She drove down one random Tuesday to take me to a doctor’s appointment and to get a pedicure. Because I asked her to. (Though her services don’t always come cheap; I had to buy her dinner and a cupcake for that trip.) She’s entertained me by wrangling her kids in front of a computer so that I could Skype with them. She patiently listened to me sob on the phone after a particularly frustrating PT session last week. And she also offers up sound advice, like, “don’t do it if it hurts, idiot.” Ok, she doesn’t actually call me names to my face, but I can tell when she’s thinking it.

Don’t think we were always this close. Oh, no. We started out as good friends, but we drifted apart for a while when I started college the same time she started high school. Ten years ago, my words about her might have been… harsh. We had a lot of growing up to do and had to grow into ourselves before we could be friends again. I’m so thankful that I was blessed with my sister and that we’ve come full circle. No one is perfect, but I’d rather have her as my sister than anyone else.

Little sister

She’ll probably take me to task for posting this picture because I caught her mid-sentence, but it’s one of my favorite pictures of her.

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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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