I’m generally a healthy person, so when I have to slow down to have a medical procedure, reflection is in order. Here are my knee operation lessons…
As I start writing this blog post, I have an ice pack strapped to my right knee.
That’s because just under two weeks ago I had a knee arthroscopy – a relatively minor operation, done on a day surgery basis, in which a camera is inserted into your knee, allowing the surgeon to “clean things up”. These were the words used by my wonderful orthopaedic surgeon; I elected to trust him and not ask what that meant.
Why and what?
I needed the surgery because in October 2024 I somehow hurt my right knee. I blame a combination of a week’s holiday in which I did a lot of gardening (literally spring cleaning our tiny patch of jungle), combined with our poor dog being on mega-doses of cortisone for an auto-immune condition. That meant he needed to get out into the garden often to pee, which meant I spent a lot of time going up and down the stairs from my home office to let him out.
My knee was sore and swollen. I saw a physio, did some exercises, intermittently took anti-inflammatories. But it just stayed sore and swollen. Fast forward to autumn 2025 and both the physio and my GP told me to go and see someone. I did that and it was decided to do this operation.
The op was on August 6 – recovery involved crutches for two or three days, four days of painkillers, five days of anti-inflammatories and a lot of sitting around.
Now, I am walking normally, doing sets of exercises twice a day and icing my still-swollen knee when I remember. I am still taking the stairs to and from the office slowly (one step at a time, like a toddler).
Dear reader, this has not been a major medical intervention at all – but it did give me pause for thought. Here are the things I’ve learned while cosseting my knee:
ONE
Age comes for all of us. The MRI done prior to surgery revealed a torn meniscus (the injury I inflicted on myself) but also “wear and tear” – arthritis. My mother has it in both knees, and now, at age 85, in one of her ankles. As the surgeon and the physio have said, nothing can be done about it. I’m working on accepting that. My knees may be creaky, but life goes on.
TWO
We do have choices as we age. We can lose weight to put less stress on our joints (I’m 1.5kg down and getting there gradually, courtesy of the Ideal Weight Programme – you have to sign up to get access and it’s a paid plan, but there is a free trial).
We can work to improve muscle and ligament strength; as my physio said, that provides a natural brace for our joints. After a lifetime of hating exercise, I’m going to have to find a way to get moving and stay moving.
THREE
I am not good at being slow. The thing I found hardest in the couple of days I spent on crutches was how slow I felt. I’m used to bustling and gathering and getting things done. I often think I should learn to slow down (I’d be less clumsy, to start with, and less irritated when I can’t open a can of tuna instantly because the stupid tin opener won’t co-operate). But I think doing things fast may be my base state, and that’s okay.
FOUR
Asking for help is, and always will be, a thing for me. When I was planning how I could take some time off after the operation, I saw that I was going to run out of time to write the blog post that was due to be published on the day after the operation. So I asked my fellow freelancer Anne Taylor to write one for me. That was easy – I think because I thought of it as asking for help on behalf of my business.
But when it came to asking my lovely family for help, that was not so easy. Scenario: I have gathered my book and my glasses and my phone and finally settled on the couch. But I have forgotten to bring the blessed ice pack. Do I ask someone to get it for me, or go fetch it myself? You have it in one, dear reader: I stagger to my feet, gather the crutches and go get it myself. Even though any one of the people in the house would have been happy to get it for me. This is a lifelong pattern, and not something lightly ditched. But I am working on it.
FIVE
Gratitude. The operation was only possible because we have a hospital plan – I am grateful that I’ve been able to keep paying for that through thick and thin. I’m also grateful that I live in a country where good medical care exists (even if only for the lucky few who have said hospital plans).
Most of all though I’m grateful that – for now – that original pain in my knee is gone. My goal of doing a Camino (either overseas or locally) in the year I turn 65 might be possible.
See you on a hiking trail – soonish.
Main picture: Monumento de Monte do Gozo, Santiago de Compostela, Spain, Jorge Luis Ojeda Flota, Unsplash
Other things I have written
Growing a jungle garden: Lessons from chaos – I live in a suburban house in Cape Town – and have small, inexpertly cultivated vegetable patches. How can this be jungle gardening?
Learning the power of gratitude – My friends will tell you I’m usually a down-to-earth, pragmatic sort. But lately I’ve been tending to my spirit and learning the power of gratitude.
Things I have learned while lying down – A back injury (in 2016) forced me to lie down for weeks at a time. This is what I learned…
How can I help you make order from chaos?
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