Slow recovery from injury to knee
I knew immediately that I was in trouble. My foot made contact with the soccer ball just as the defender kicked the other side. My momentum carried me forward, my foot still pointed at a right angle from my body. And then it happened.
I felt my knee twist.
It was one of those slow-motion moments. So this was it: in a rec-league indoor soccer game, in that gray area between mid-twenties and late-twenties, in what was probably my best scoring chance of the young season, I sustained my first-ever sports injury.
(Hey, when you don’t do anything beyond youth baseball and even then your only action is kicking dandelions in the outfield, you don’t put much wear-and-tear on the body.)
Then time returned to normal. I don’t know where the ball went, but I know when I tried to put my weight on my right foot that my knee buckled. After the initial shock wore off, I found I could half bounce, half limp if I stayed back on defense. (Before you call me a girl’s name, let’s note I didn’t come out of the game.)
In the second half, with the game (like all the others) well out of reach, I swapped with our goalie and stayed in net the rest of the game. (And learned to appreciate how good he really is after I let in plenty of suspect goals.)
Afterwards, my knee was sore and had affected my play – I hadn’t been able to kick very well before the injury but any attempts to clear the ball in the second half were particularly weak – but I figured I’d just stoved it. (Assuming that you can stove a knee, but stoved fingers in basketball were the closest I’d come to sports injury prior, so I went with what I knew.)
However, about an hour after the game (which was almost exclusively spent lounging on the couch), I realized it was worse than a stoved finger. I had been OK during the game because I had kept moving; now I let it stiffen. Once that happened, I found I couldn’t do things like completely bend or straighten my knee (which, as it turns out, are pretty important movements in a knee’s repertoire). I threw a couple ibuprofens at the problem and went to bed.
The next day was worse. I began to curse architects who favored steps. Sleeping was a bit difficult and little things like getting off the couch to let the dogs outside became major causes for consternation.
A few days of limping around (and being babied by my wife) later, I am starting to feel better. As long as I avoid any sudden changes of direction (and keep my 90-pound dog from crashing into my right leg while playing catch), I’m operating pretty close to normal.
Though it lasted less than a week, it was a weird experience for me. Since I never played middle or high school sports and never did anything more active in college than hustle up a few flights of steps when late to class, this was the first time I got hurt doing something active. (Surprised I wasn’t a student athlete? Take a look at the photo that accompanies the column – that’s actual size.)
While I’ve been pretty active since I’ve been out of college – playing backyard football, some church league softball, a few seasons of dek hockey and now indoor soccer – I’ve managed to stay out of the trainer’s room and off the IR. (Hey, just because I never played doesn’t mean I can’t co-op the jargon.)
I’ve never broken a bone, never gotten stitches and avoided putting my eye out (and am currently knocking on wood). When I started playing pseudo-organized sports, I figured if I was going to get hurt it would be playing dek hockey. I mean, give 10 guys sticks and odds are one or two of them will be short-tempered enough to start slashing or undisciplined enough to have a 7-foot-high follow through on shot attempts. I figured it was only a matter of time before I took a puck to the teeth or a stick to the face.
It didn’t help that my friend and teammate Mike (who just happens to be a copy editor extraordinaire at the Herald-Standard) mentioned the numerous times he’s had to have his face stitched up after getting hit with a stick or a puck in his years playing dek.
But I didn’t get hurt playing hockey at Bill’s Golfland on Route 51 in Belle Vernon. (With the name drop and all if you want to knock a little off the league fee next time, guys, that’s cool.) Despite his injury history, Mike didn’t either. Instead, it was the soccer that did us both in.
Of course, my knee is child’s play compared to Mike, who in general is more active in a week than I was in the last 10 years; he tore a calf muscle at the end of the first soccer game and is on the shelf for a month or two.
I guess we should’ve stuck with hockey – even with everyone carrying a stick. It sure seems a lot safer.
If you’ve got any physical therapy experience, Brandon Szuminsky can be reached by e-mail at bszuminsky@heraldstandard.com.