Having gotten to bed relatively early last evening, I set my cellphone alarm for 3 a.m. However, I was to find myself so awake at 2:25 a.m. that I rose then, even though I did not feel adequately slept.
Would I be risking a longer walk with my damaged right knee?
No.
First off, the website I have recently discovered that lists Surrey Memorial Emergency Department Wait Times revealed that the wait was ─ at that point that I checked ─ something over seven hours.
So there was no way I was going to risk that walk of seven or so blocks just to have to endure that.
Yesterday I had written that I was considering walking to a credit union ATM ─ the nearest being about four blocks away at Cedar Hills ─ but my knee felt far too unstable. Even though I would have a dagger on my hip and I would be toting a Titan baton flashlight stun gun, my knee yields almost no support. It would be impossible for me to even slightly swivel about in any act of self defence; and Cedar Hills ─ though nothing like Whalley ─ does have its late-night seedy element.
So once more, I would be making my third consecutive night walk of about six blocks as a round trip.
I failed to take accurate note of when I left ─ either 3:37 or 3:47 a.m. Everything was freshly wet from recent rain. Actually, the previous two night walks had also been following fairly recent rains.
I was discouragingly slow ─ there is yet no evidence of any improvement for this effort at working my knee. As before, points during the walk would strike where the supporting musculature around the top sides and rear of my knee would suddenly seem set to spasm, and I would flail a little as I sought to stay myself from doing something involuntary like buckling.
I seek to walk such that I am moving my knee as naturally as possible as opposed to just walking with the leg stiff or the knee locked out, for it seems to me that I need to be exercising the traumatized muscles, ligaments, and tendons as near to employing a natural movement as I can.
When I use my hands to cup the outside of my 'good' left knee, and then do the same with my damaged knee, the latter knee is markedly swollen, as is the very top of the knee where the quadriceps tendon joins the patella.
If I am careful, I can now elevate my lower leg, such as to gain my bed once I have sat or reclined into it with my good left leg stretched out there first. The lower leg does droop quite noticeably, but at least I can raise the whole leg unassisted. Nevertheless, the outside of the knee where much of the swelling is located burns more and more as I elevate the leg.
Is it possible that the lowermost quadriceps muscle at the outside of my thigh and knee ─ the vastis lateralis ─ is partially torn?
That seems to be where the major burn comes from when I elevate my leg unaided.
But could the burning also be the result of simple deep muscular trauma that will gradually alleviate with time?
I haven't a clue, and it is seemingly impossible to get any professional medical opinion on this.
To refresh, my right leg was standing on a bottom step that I had believed was the cement ground floor (it was dark and I hadn't bothered turning on the light). So I stepped out with my left foot in the belief that I was already on the floor, but I was not; and down I came, pile-driving my bent right knee onto the floor with my thigh and upper body essentially perpendicular as I plunged down onto my knee's patella.
Of course my leg ended up with my basically kneeling upon my lower leg and shin as I lamented and fought off some nausea, and then sort of pulled myself out of that posture. I cannot remember if I pushed back to sit on the lower step, or if I leaned over onto my good left leg, all the while doing what I could to assess what had befallen ─ did I break my knee? There had been no audible 'pop' indicating a quadriceps tear as happened to my left leg back on November 1, 2010.
After I rallied enough to drag myself backwards upstairs to my bedroom, I climbed into it and sought to sleep, hoping that meantime a miracle would work out.
The accident probably happened just ahead of 4:30 a.m. Saturday, March 1 ─ and here we are. I was at Surrey Memorial's emergency section a little less than nine hours later ─ it was late into the noon hour ─ thanks to a ride from my brother, but he had to leave me there when the magnitude of the wait ahead of me became apparent.
It was to take over and hour just for me to get checked in.
Once as I awaited my turn at getting checked in I was so overcome with a sensation of extreme overheating and an overall prickling sensation that I realized I was going to pass out, so I had to sit down.
About a dozen hours after getting checked in ─ in other words, it was maybe 2 a.m. Sunday ─ a doctor finally saw me. I was wheeled off to have three X-rays that the doctor got around to examining and concluding that there were no broken bones, and the meniscus appeared intact; and he then sent me off for a skyline X-ray that he interpreted similarly.
So I was sent home with the advice that if the pain and swelling had not markedly subsided in four or five days, I could come back.
Well, two days later I began coming down with a respiratory infection that I had picked up after being exposed to something one of the many people waiting with me had coughed or sneezed into the air, and then I had to deal with three days after that of fever.
I managed to quell whatever this was with nebulized H2O2 and some ivermectin, but even for some days afterwards I was still having bloodstained mucous produced rather thickly from my sinuses.
Ergo my apprehension about long hospital wait times. Those times would probably be counted from the point of being checked in, and that checking-in itself can be darned long.
I don't know what to do.
To get to the hospital, I must rely on a ride, but this is not convenient for anyone. And of course, my brother generally goes out social drinking around mid-afternoon, catching a bus. From that point he is of no use to me, for he will be too drunk to be driving once he is home again.
My wife is the only other resident in the house with a vehicle, but she is not home all that much.
And there is no way that I want to cough up $20 for a taxi.
I don't want to talk about this any further.
After my early walk this a.m., I was probably back to bed by 5:30 a.m.; and after some sleep, I was up again maybe around three hours later. My brother was already downstairs watching T.V.
I waited until just past 9 a.m. before going downstairs for my day's first mug of instant coffee and to join him. Quickly, he turned the T.V. over to me so that I could operate our Android TV Box.
I led us off with two videos uploaded yesterday to YouTube's AnitaK channel:
BC David Eby is trying to table a tariff response bill to use counter measures, tools and give complete binding and retroactive authority to whatever he wants to do to tackle Trump.
For article:
https://x.com/DanKnightMMA
What's Carney doing about it? He's planning a trip to Europe instead of staying in Canada or talking to Trump or Xi Jingping
We only had time for one further video, for it was two hours (2:02:32), and had been published March 14 to Rumble's Tucker Carlson channel: Clayton Morris: Truth About the USS Liberty, Europe’s Self-Destruction, & Is Brigitte Macron a Man?
Clayton Morris of Redacted on Brigitte Macron, false flags and how the world really works.
You can go to the actual video description for a timeline breakdown of the video's various topics.
It was time for some bed rest for my brother at the video's conclusion.
While I was puzzling over what to put together for my day's first small meal, my youngest stepson approached me about the upcoming big bills we're confronted with over the next four months ─ he cannot afford to pay a third, working reduced hours as he has been doing of late. He wanted me to bring the discussion to my brother.
So when my brother finally emerged from his bedroom and was set to soon be busing off the engage his usual daily social drinking, I informed him that we needed to have a discussion with the 26-year-old (or is he 27? I don't think so).
It was short. My brother suggested a 25% share in the annual utilities that are due April 2, and we would thereafter tackle things as they approached. Evidently the lad felt he could handle a 25% hit.
But he is so strapped that he has talked to me of having to move out and be at the mercy of a close friend, even going so far as to just sleep on someone's couch because he cannot afford to be on his own.
Maybe the selling of the house is growing near and fast. It is worrisome.
By the way, returning to the topic of my knee injury, my foot is very swollen, and discoloured in places from massive bruising. When I put on a hiker, the tops of the boot feel like they are going to abrade and break the sensitive tissues around my ankles.
Lord, my life sucks.
This was a full workday for my wife, so she rose around 9:45 or even 9:50 a.m. for a quick shower and to otherwise ready, and quite soon after 10 a.m. managed to get away on her rather long drive. If I do not become entangled with my brother this evening and I again get to bed relatively early, then I will likely not see her when she finally gets home.
Perhaps my brother will surprise me and show up unexpectedly early this evening. If he does, then he will quickly grow tired of Bev's choice of banal T.V. shows and want me to come down to put our Android TV Box to work so we can watch a few of the shows he and I follow in common.
If he gets home anywhere from 8 p.m. onward, he will have drunk too much beer and will be too silly to care much about what Bev has on T.V. His usual routine is to pass out quickly for some while. This affords me the time and opportunity to cement having a relatively early evening, and by 9 p.m. I will have shut myself up into my bedroom to soon get to bed.
Right now it is 6:39 p.m., so I am going to take a break and round up my day's second and final light meal. I may even find that I have the time to watch a show here on my bedside computer while enjoying a beer ere my bedtime, so all is dependent upon when my brother shows up.
★★★
Growing bluesy as my early evening wore on, despite it being a bit past 8:30 p.m. without my brother home yet, I opted to watch The Avengers here on my bedside computer while savouring a can of Cariboo Malt (7.9% alcohol).
The episode was episode 15 ("The Joker") of season five, and I accessed it at this Archive.org link.
I found the episode unusually suspenseful, and Emma Peel actually started to panic ─ that is a rarity for the character! And I must say, when John Steed showed up near the end and pretty much saved the day, I was relieved and grateful ─ even Emma was openly welcoming, losing her usual reserve.
Early into the show, I noticed that its distraction and the adequate alcohol were assuaging my anxiousness to large degree.
I am going to close this post and get to bed, but I must wait until whomever is presently occupying the bathroom ─ probably my youngest stepson ─ to vacate it so that I can have a final stroan, but this is quite annoying. Bev has shut herself up in 'their' bedroom to watch T.V. in that room, so the living room downstairs is silent and dark ─ as yet my brother is not home.
I would most appreciate being able to get to bed before he does show up! At present, it is 9:46 p.m.
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