My deranged but sexy knee
FRIDAY, April 16 – Sports massage at home. G is a fantastic – and merciless – masseur. This time he tackles not only my back and arms, but also my calves. You can’t put anything over on G: my body speaks the truth. He can tell that I once injured my left knee.
Overstretched, I say. The diagnosis was a ‘deranged knee’.
We have a good laugh. He wants to know how it happened and I grin at the thought. My wife once sat down on my knee. I think back to the day she put a torn-out magazine article on the nightstand: ‘Ten positions that will spice up your sex life … with illustrations’. It proved more complicated than we expected, but still fun until my knee ‘gave way’. I cherish the injury, which still rears its head from time to time. The body never lies.
Diary of a Widower 