Back in January, after I had played with our Under-23s against Newcastle, I got home, turned on some music, put it on loud, like at a party, and just danced with my family. It was a party, really; a celebration of being able to play again. A normal match, a full match free of any recurrence of any injury.

That night was a great moment for me, a really good step in my return. I had mixed feelings beforehand. On the one hand I was very happy, having trained up to a level where I could play again, but at the same time I was a bit worried on the day of that match, perhaps a little constrained in the build up to that match by my own self-control, having just returned, so it was a mixture of feelings at the start. After the first few touches and the first few minutes, things started to flow and those concerns were behind me. By the end of the match I was really happy with how things had gone at the stadium.

It had been a long journey for me since July.

Near the end of last season, I picked up a knee injury against Chelsea which meant that I missed out on the African Cup of Nations. Two months out, during which I prioritised my treatment and recovery over rushing back. That meant that I missed last season’s run-in and the Cup of Nations, but I was back for a new start with United in pre-season.

We were playing against Tottenham in China when the injury happened. That’s a moment I’d prefer to forget about. I felt like I was in great form, I'd come back fully from the first knee injury, and I was just getting a run of play in the team. Then it happened. This time, the other knee.