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Peering lovingly down at my furry footwarmer, I should have guessed something was up. On numerous occasions over the years, Munch and my sweet rescue cat Angus have laid across different parts of my body healing me where I didn’t even know I needed it. I love how animals can sense things in the human body before even the human can. Four years ago, before I was hospitalized with pneumonia, Angus and his brother Arnold took it in turns to lay by my feet and head and act as a healing channel even before I knew that I was ill. They had never done it before and never did it afterwards,
This time it was Munch’s turn to take on the role of healer. Throughout the day in work he lay on my foot back and forth and in the night, he came to bed and lay his head on my knee. It was a little odd for him as usually he expects me to do the running when it comes to showing affection. The following day, when sorting out the mountain of laundry, I walked into the side of an armchair and my patella began sliding out of its comfy place like a safety chain on a door lock. Luckily, I realized what was happening and straightened my leg to prevent yet another dislocation. Seven times on one joint was enough and I was willing to do anything to avoid the eighth.

If you have had a dislocation in the past, you will know how painful they can be. I have had numerous breaks, fractures, ligament damage soft tissue damage and most other things in the past but the numerous dislocations that have graced my body are probably the most painful. The joys of Marfan Syndrome are that the unexpected always seems to be the host of surprise parties when it comes to your body. When the Fibrillin 1 throughout your body decides that it fancies mixing it up a bit, guaranteed a hospital visit will be on the cards. Some Marfan patients are luckier than others but clumsy ones like me always seem to draw the comical short straw.

One of the worse things about a quick trip to the A&E department I have found is the explaining to hospital staff how it happened which can be more painful than the actual injury. Regarding my frequent patella dislocations, I have had to explain many scenarios from how I slipped in the shower (washing off dog poo that I had just slipped in whilst out walking), to dislocating it after playing keepy uppies with a balloon in work, to falling over a chair whilst demonstrating laughter yoga to 35 teenagers. The other times in between you really don’t want to know. Telling the hospital staff that I put it back into place myself and do not need any pain relief as I am doing breathing techniques and unicorn meditations, only adds to the oddity of these visits.

Luckily this time however, I managed to keep my patella secure as it is currently being supported by my one of many knee braces which range from Rococopesque to a more discreet version. Bizarrely, the day after this happened, I had a letter from the hospital offering me an appointment for my pre-assessment for my knee reconstruction early next year. I had already cancelled it once as I stupidly thought that my patella had become quite comfy where it was meant to reside but the soft tissue around it that is currently having a pity party and has tantrums when I weight bare, has different ideas. It looks like I may have to go ahead with it and add to my collection of Marfan Syndrome related operations.
This sounds like a start of a classic joke though as I wonder how the heck I am going to get around.

I have been in a full leg case three times and got it stuck between the passenger seats of a car twice and between my bed and the wall to name but a few examples. Clumsy is my natural mode to operate in so I am not sure how this operation malarkey will pan out. Apparently, I will be back walking in two weeks but will remain in a leg brace for three months due to the unpredictability of the Marfan’s make-up and my previous history. I have a sneaky feeling that when I am back in work and in the swing of everyday life, a boisterous guide dog, crutches, a leg brace and numerous bags for work may end up like a game of Buckaroo, where my pantomime like donkey grace will provide hours of entertainment.

Let’s hope my furry healing footwarmer and his co-worker Angus are on hand for the after affects of my comedy show. I think I may need them.

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