I sprained my ankle playing badminton 8 months ago. The physio said 6 weeks. Six
weeks, he said, with a big confident smile, like it was a food delivery estimate.
It's now 8 months and my ankle still clicks when I take the stairs too fast.
I walk fine and nobody asks about it anymore. That's the strange part for me. In
the first month everyone asked, "how's the foot?" By month 3 it was only my mother.
Now when I wince, people say "still?" in a tone like I'm making it up. Meanwhile
I'm doing the same exercises with a rubber band every night in front of the TV.
They are boring and my cat watches me from the sofa like I've completely lost my
mind. When I told people, everybody had their own story. A colleague's knee took a full year.
A friend's shoulder from tennis still acts up after 2 years, he says. It turned into
a small competition, each person adding one more month to the story. I came away feeling
less alone and also a little worried about my own timeline. I play badminton again now,
mostly. But I hesitate on shots I'd take without thinking last year. Sideways steps are the worst.
My brain says no before my foot even moves. I can't tell if that's smart caution or just
fear left over from the fall itself. I still don't know when I'm supposed to call it done.
The physio says keep going.