Today in class I turned quickly in my chair at my desk and banged my knee on the corner of my desk. And not just any knee, but my injured knee. And not just any spot on my injured knee, but right on the injury itself. I, uh, "called out" in pain and probably mouthed a word I shouldn't have (at least it was sotto voce), and spent probably a full minute trying to regain my composure. I even said at one point, "If you've never seen a grown man cry, pay close attention, because it could happen very soon."
Oh, that sucked.
A couple hours later I was at what was probably my last physical therapy appointment. I still have follow-up appointments with an orthopedic doctor, but barring anything unforeseen, PT is done.
I've been unable to run a single step, and one of my goals is to run a mile around the school track on the 1-year anniversary of my injury. After noting all the progress I've made since my first PT appointment in June, I had a crazy idea at the gym a little while ago--let's see if I can run at all. So I went inside a mirrored workout room and gave it a shot. There's no way what I did could be described as running, but oh bleep!, I can shuffle at a faster-than-walking pace.
It's a start.