I saw my knee specialist yesterday and he confirmed that the recovery time for my left knee is likely to be five months. It is no secret that this does not augur well for my hopes for England, or the Lions later in the summer, but, as is my way, I will not rule anything out. If it doesn't happen, it doesn't happen, but it will have been worth striving for.

Yet another injury is infuriating, particularly so now because in the three and a bit matches that I had played for Newcastle Falcons this season I was enjoying my rugby and I felt that I was getting a handle on my game.

But England now - and the Lions even more so - is no longer on my radar. They might be huge, long-term targets but they are not my focus. My thought process is instead tied up with getting fit and playing again for Newcastle, and then we'll go from there.

I'll just nail one thing, though: the idea that this might be the end of my playing career. Forget it. It's not a consideration. When I did the knee, against Gloucester last week, I was actually quite positive and thinking it would be just one month. Obviously it didn't quite pan out that way, but I have no doubt that I'll be back.

I am also in a position to learn from experience. This time I'm determined to enjoy my time away from playing. I'll be busy. I won't be thinking about rugby all the time. And I won't, as I have at times in the past, be thinking: “You're the victim.” Or: “Why me?” Those sort of thoughts translate badly into your mind and I don't need that now.

For starters, this is the most debilitating injury I've had and the most painful post-surgery, too. Rehabilitating from the operation on my neck in 2004 was very tough and on my shoulder this summer made it hard to sleep, and I've had other knee problems before, but I've never had to move so slowly and cautiously and I've always had enough movement, even when on crutches, to carry things with me.

Heaven forbid that I should forget something I need and have to go back for it. I've now taken to wearing trousers with big pockets in which I carry everything - my toothbrush, paracetamol; if I want a sandwich, I wrap it in foil and carry that in my pocket, too.

What happened was as follows. I was really enjoying that Gloucester game when I challenged for the ball and felt the impact on my left knee. The split second I recall is the bottom of my kneecap moving, but then carrying on moving. I was then hit to the ground and I felt as though my knee was pointing in two different directions. I was so convinced that that was the case that I didn't want to look at it. I couldn't look anyway because another body then flew into the ruck, which meant more impact, which somehow knocked the knee straight again.

When the ruck cleared, it didn't feel that bad. And very briefly I thought I might be able to play on. And in the changing-room afterwards, having been helped off, I still thought I'd escaped the worst. Then all of a sudden it ballooned and the pain really kicked in.

The next morning in Gloucester I had the scan and they found that the kneecap had torn away from the muscle and dislocated itself and that the cartilage had slipped down the side of the joint.

I had the surgery last Friday and the medics were pleased with the way it went. Unfortunately, we found that when the cartilage had torn away from the bone, it had no shards of bone attached to it. If a small piece of the bone comes away, too, it helps it to resettle and bond. That is why I am now looking at five months rather than four. And in a couple of months I'll need keyhole surgery to see how it has taken.