Bone on bone leads to 100 laps

I recently wrote about Battling Injury. At that time I was off to see a sports physician. The important things first: this is one very attractive physician. If I was younger and single, I’d have asked for another doctor so I could date this one! Not wanting to identify him, I’m call him Dr A.

Dr A sent me off for an MRI. Technology is wonderful these days. About 5 minutes before I even had the MRI I received a text message telling me my scans would be available on my phone. Oh, THAT is just great – who is going to tell me what they mean? Dr A thought I might have a torn meniscus. He was also pretty sure there was some degenerative change, in other words arthritis. Five minutes after the scan, I could download them to my phone. I was also handed a CD of the images.


I am a bad, bad, bad patient. Of course I googled “meniscus tear” and stared at my scans trying to see anything. I gave up. Don’t give me the darn scans without an explanation. Technology bad.

Dr A diagnosed severe synovitis as the biggest problem (there is also a small tear of the meniscus) and I ended up with an ultrasound guided two ampules of steroid injected into the synovial membrane. It was so hard and inflamed I needed three shots of local before he could get the steroid in. He had planned to drain some fluid, but gave up on that idea. I was supposed to get some relief in three to four days. Well, THAT didn’t happen. I was told to totally rest the knee for seven days. So I did. I was allowed to swim twice in those seven days. On day eight, after all that rest, I decided to start up again slowly, as instructed. I spent fifteen minutes on the treadmill at four kilometres an hour (a very slow stroll) and by the time I got home I was in agony and icing and elevating again. The next day I could hardly move.

Back to Dr A. This time, after me describing the location of the remaining pain (very much in one spot it is now) and a bit of poking and prodding, he has decided the remaining pain is due to the arthritic change. I have, he says, bone-on-bone. He did show me the bit on the MRI that indicates this but whether I’ve selected the right bit to share, or not, I don’t know! I really can’t read these medical things!


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The Four Seasons of Love

Love is a bud in springtime

Fragile, vulnerable

Beautiful, tantalising.

Rainbows shimmer in spring rain

The lovers dream of the gold

The golden love to last the ages.


Under the warm summer sun

The bud blooms

Vibrant colour, glorious perfume

Beauty, passion, fertility.

Autumn’s cool winds blow

A petal falls, colour fades, the stem hardens

The rose of love searches for the summer sun

Needing warmth, sustenance, protection.

Winter chills the air

Lightening flashes, thunder roars

Petals are blasted away

Dashed to the frosty ground, crushed.

Soil hardens, crippling the roots


Fitzroy Gardens Trees

Spring will come again


A new bud will form

But it is not the same

It is new.



Brandis bowled for a duck

Not surprisingly, I was very pleased to see the decision by Cabinet leaving George Brandis high and dry over his proposed 18C changes. Sadly this brings a lot of media coverage to Andrew Bolt, giving his irritating voice a bit more of a megaphonic melodramatic edge than usual. Brandis, the man who says we all have a right to be a bigot – unless we are a bigot about bigots, of course.

Attorney-General George Brandis has defended the Government’s plan to amend a key part of the nation’s racial discrimination laws, saying people have “a right to be bigots”. Source: ABC

What has annoyed me is the presentation in some of the media that bowling Brandis out for a duck was about keeping the Muslims on side. I have nothing against Muslims, I am married to one after all. But the public outcry over proposed 18C changes wasn’t because of Muslims.

Desire to bring Muslims back ‘onside’ led to dumping

Read more: http://www.smh.com.au/federal-politics/political-news/desire-to-bring-muslims-back-onside-led-to-dumping-20140805-3d6n0.html#ixzz39c8s9xRB

To claim it was is very convenient for Mr Bolt, of course, but let’s not forget his high profile case was over his accusations about another persecuted group in our society. Non-white people who, to his eyes, looked a little too white.

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Continued from Blood spurted from the ripped flesh.  If you have just joined this story and wish to start from the beginning, go to What goes around comes around.

Jones came to in excruciating pain.

“Good, you’re awake.” Jones heard the familiar Australian accent and for a moment thought he was back in Canberra.

“Pain”, he croaked, “Give me something for the pain.”

“Sorry, mate. No drugs available. You were lucky you stayed out of it while I stitched you up. No surgical thread either, that’s sewing cotton holding your throat together.”

His reality flashed before Jones’ eyes. He remembered something had happened.

He looked up at the doctor. “Were you here before all this started?”

“No, I’m just like you. Arrived with nothing but the clothes I was wearing.”

“How do they let you practice?”

“With so many people here there is much sickness and injury. They needed doctors. The local doctors put me through an ad-hoc “exam” to verify my knowledge as much as they could because they need the extra hands. So I’m patching up fellow asylum seekers like you.”

Oh God, thought Jones, the pain, the pain.

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I Don’t Want “Ladies First,” But What’s With These Men?

Team Oyeniyi:

This is a brilliant illustration of why the battle for gender equality is not yet over – not by a long shot. Many of the women on Twitter using the #womenagainstfeminism hash tag never experience this in their lifetime. This article should be shared far and wide. Please visit Rita to read the complete article.


woman washes mans feet

by Rita Banerji

It irritates me when a man fawningly says “Ladies First!” I find it condescending. As a woman I see myself as perfectly able as any man and see no reason for being singled out that way.

Yet, by the same token I hugely resent the “Men First!” approach that I encounter everywhere in India. While walking on pavements, driving, inside homes, and even in offices. It’s that attitude that says, men are entitled to shove women aside and be served first.

It happened again at the bank yesterday and left me fuming. I had accompanied my mother to the bank and she needed some cash deposited. There was a long queue at the counter, so I told her to sit down and I’d stand in line and do it for her. A man came and stood behind me, and then suddenly moved in front and stood next…

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Battling Injury

It would be accurate to say I am very annoyed and frustrated. At myself.

I have been participating in the Global Corporate Challenge. It is truly a wonderful event: I love, love, love it. I just forgot to remember two things.

  1. I haven’t been too active for about four years
  2. I am no longer in my twenties. Hell, I’m no longer in my thirties.
Fitzroy Gardens Trees

Fitzroy Gardens Trees

I was probably a little more like the trees, not all young and green.

All gung-ho I leapt from about 3,000 steps a day to 10,000 steps. My body coped OK, at least so it seemed to me. On June 10th, purely by accident, I leapt up to a personal best of nearly 18,000 steps.

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Green and Gold

It is easy to see why the national colours of Australia are green and gold. I snapped these at a local park. The native trees are starting to blossom. Click on the gallery to see full size. Green and gold everywhere!

Now heavily into Stage 2 of the Global Corporate Challenge, I have been swimming and walking like crazy. Plus it has been end of financial year: time is short. So short in fact we missed a few lunchtime walks and that makes hitting 12,000 steps a day a bit harder. Sometimes we even forget to remove our runners when we DO get out!

Not a professional look!

Not a professional look!

I remembered at 4 pm – too late to bother changing! Given the challenge is sponsored by the company, I was excused!

I have achieved that full Iron Man trophy I was after! I am NEVER getting on the bike again though – my knee complains bitterly!

Iron Man

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Walking photos

I was so busy celebrating the end of Stage 1 of the current fitness regime, I didn’t share my walk photos. I hadn’t walked as much last week due to the grumpy knee, but I do have some. Not all are flowers.

One day was quite overcast and the park near my office was not as bright as usual. Click on the gallery to see the full size images

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Stage 1 is DONE! Plus Frightbats, World Refugee Day and High Court wins!

Even the #frightbat saga didn’t manage to pull me away from my stepping. My apologies to our regular readers: I’ve been exercising.

Daily Progress

Daily Progress

That chart doesn’t have today on it yet – but my reading will be 4,200 for cycling, 2,375 for swimming (I only did 500 metres in the pool today) and 7,000 plus a few for walking. A total of 13,575 steps for the day. That will give me an average for the stage of just over 11,000 steps a day even with my poor sore knee.

At first I thought it was “water on the knee” from overuse but I actually think it was tight hamstrings. Some stretches are helping, but then perhaps so did the ice, elevation and anti-inflammatory cream I’ve been rubbing in. Maybe it was a combination of going from 3,000 steps a day to 10,000 a day (overuse) and tight hamstrings. Whatever, I had a damn sore and swollen left knee then the right knee went out in sympathy!

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Blood spurted from the ripped flesh

Continued from Destination Madagascar.  If you have just joined this story and wish to start from the beginning, go to What goes around comes around.

Jones didn’t sleep. No-one slept. Sometime tomorrow they would see land, yet none of them knew what sort of welcome they would receive. A silence had enveloped the boat, save for the throbbing of the engine. As dawn light shimmered over the crests of the waves, Jones staggered to the deck. He was thirsty, but there was no longer any water. Only a few hours to go. Black clouds in the distance would soon bring darkness and rain. Jones strained his eyes to see land. Sarah appeared at his side.

Clouds“We will not be welcome here. They have accepted so many already.”

“How do you know?” Jones asked, fear gripping the pit of his stomach.

“Jimmy has made this trip before.”

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