|No, I'm not on the toilet.|
I dislocated my knee again on Friday night whilst in a changing room, in a store in the middle of Eindhoven. This has happened many times before thanks to super stretchy ligaments, which tend to fail at keeping my shoulders, knees & toes in place. They tend to pop out when I'm a.) drunk & forget that I'm not a dancing queen b.) when attempting any sport more extreme than riding a bike.
This time however, I was completely taken by surprise.I was pulling on my boot and my knee cap popped out, swiveled around and I collapsed on the floor. Luckily I put it back in place instantly but I blacked out briefly and hit my head. Funnily enough, the first thought that went through my head as I came round was: "HolyyyShit, thank god I'm not naked!"
A manager helped me out but I had to hobble to the main road by myself to call a cab because the store was in a pedestrianized area. The fact that I was in so much pain in a shithole city, crying my eyes out, with no one to help me, reiterated the need to get the hell out of there. I have never felt so alone and pathetic in my life. (Note: never call your mother who is 4,000km away in cases like this. She will panic, freak out & probably call the National Guard to try to help you)
I'm now hobbling around with green sports tape that makes me look like a Christmas lizard. Schmexy.
It was a poopy start to an eventful weekend!