It’s My Quadriceps Tendon Rupture and I’ll Cry If I Want To

On the plus side, if this situation can be said to have one – and really, it most emphatically DOES NOT – it’s given me an excuse to spend time doing one of the things I do best: goofing off in coffee shops and cafés while reading and writing. Of course I would generally be doing this anyway, but with my screwed up leg, I’ve been able to do it even longer and more often.

So there’s no silver lining to this experience that I can see, but I suppose we’ll call it – oh, I don’t know, maybe a bronze lining. No, not even than – a copper lining, or perhaps a cheap, impure grade of aluminum lining.

I think I will note here now that while I’ve kept this ruptured quadriceps tendon journal throughout the past two months, I’ve only just now published all the entries here on this blog, backdating them appropriately. I hadn’t planned to do so, originally, but at the time, back on Christmas Eve, I didn’t get a chance to post that original entry before it was time to prepare to go under Dr. Phat’s knife. Then, later on, I decided I wanted to keep the journal offline for awhile.

Writing “close to the moment,” as a creative writing instructor back in college termed it, can be labored and consequently problematic. So I decided to give myself the option of editing it after the fact, should it get a little to heavy handed. But to be quite honest, other than the inevitable copy editing and cutting out some of the more overly-repetitious ‘graphs here and there, I haven’t changed anything. And it is, therefore, a bit belabored and overbearing at times, but then life has been laborious and overbearing lo these past two months, so there you go.

Does that make it warranted? Perhaps it does; perhaps not. But then it’s my blog, and I’ll cry and bitch and moan if I want to.

You would cry too if it happened to you.