All About Knees

For all obvious reasons the subject of the day is KNEES. What amazing little things they are. I was shown the plastic model in the consultant’s office and can tell you they work in the most efficient and amazing of ways. But they do suffer for their art. Before he was taken to the operating theatre, the surgeon came and drew an arrow in blue felt tip on Craig’s shin, pointing up to the knee in question. Now even I, with my totally untrained eyes, could see which was the bad one, but there was something touching about the care with which the surgeon, Mr. Fairbanks, drew the arrow, even taking the time to fill in the little head. Craig has the distinction of being the first baseball injury the surgeon has seen. Football, rugby, and skiing, lots and lots and lots of skiing injuries, of course, but this one was a first.  The damage is the same however.  No matter how sturdy a knee is, a powerful collision with the ground tends to hurt. Oh yeah, and running too. Mr. Fairbanks did mention how many runners he sees. I said nothing. What would be the point? I have no intention of giving up. 

Those of you who know me well know I am rather obsessed with knees, and not just their mechanics. I believe they show signs of aging long before other parts of the body succumb.  I am not entirely happy with my own set of knees, but I take comfort in the fact that Kate Moss has terrible knees. Demi Moore has long protested that she never had her knees “done.” To that I say, “you went and had everything else done, and not your knees? You are even stupider than I thought.” 

Knees are often used as a symbol of submission. To be on ones knees invokes an image of cowering or begging, but also that of pleasure, prayer and proposal. They are the undoing of many a professional athlete and keen amateur. They are wrapped and bound and iced and elevated and worried over endlessly. They can predict the weather. They crack and groan when irritated. As they literally control our movements they are often the deciding factor between ecstasy and agony. We have all seen the gruesome photos of sportspeople clutching a knee that isn’t where it should be.  And yet, does anyone take the time to thank their knees when they are the first to break the tape?  Oh knees....someone should write a poem about you. Maybe someone has. I shall look into that. In the meantime, I just hope my own knees, regardless of their appearance, hold up for the next few years at least. They still have a lot of living to do for me.