Slowly I Turned...Inch By Inch

Nursing A Twisted Knee

Jul 24, 2026

When I was a kid, my parents loved telling the story of how I learned to walk. Almost as much as I loved watching The Three Stooges.

Apparently, I skipped crawling altogether. I went straight from rolling around on our avocado-green shag carpet to taking my first steps.

I guess I didn’t always love being on my knees. 😎👻

Fast forward fifty-plus years, and the universe decided it was time to remind me that my knees aren’t getting any younger.

A couple of days ago, I somehow twisted my right knee while walking across a coffee shop. Not running a marathon. Not climbing a mountain. Just walking toward an empty seat.

One second I was strolling across the shop. The next, a lightning bolt of pain shot through my leg so suddenly I nearly face-planted with the floor.

I was meeting some new friends from out of town, so I did everything I could to avoid turning our coffee shop hangout into a Three Stooges sketch.

Thankfully, I made it to a chair before my knee completely gave out. I sipped my herbal iced tea, laughed through the pain, and spent the next hour getting to know this awesome couple better.

By the time we left, the pain had dulled enough for me to hobble back to my car.

I had officially graduated from “helpless old queen” to “slightly wounded pirate.”

Yesterday, I saw my chiropractor, who quickly solved the mystery.

The good news? My knee isn’t really the problem.

The bad news? My glutes and hamstrings are so tight they’ve been pulling everything around them out of alignment, including my knee.

According to my sassy-sexy-sweet chiropractor, my glutes and hamstrings are tighter than a drag queen’s tuck.

It’s a good thing he’s cute. And funny. And really, really good at his job.

Fucking ginger cubs like him are my Kryptonite.

After spending the last year and a half learning how to loosen my grip on life, apparently my glutes and hamstrings didn’t get the memo.

So my assignment for the next few days is to stay home, rest, do some gentle stretching, and avoid the temptation to clean and redecorate my apartment.

A year ago, I would’ve ignored the pain, pushed through it….and made things worse.

These days I’m trying something radical: Listening to my body. And my sassy doctor.

It turns out healing isn’t always about doing more. Sometimes it’s about doing less. Giving your body a chance to catch up with your ambitions.

It’s also a nice reminder that getting older isn’t necessarily about falling apart. It’s about paying attention before your body has to poke you right between the eyes.

Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk.

So for the next few days, I’ll be taking things baby step by baby step. Inch by inch.

Hopefully without any accompanying laugh track.

Keep calm and hobble on with me, y’all!
Clint 🌈✌️