Amid all the strife, discord and horrifying events in the world, I’m afraid I’ve got to saddle you — my loyal readers — with one more worldly concern.
Fortunately for you, this is just a straw that should not break your strong backs. But for me it’s a preoccupying, calendar-watching ordeal that can’t get here soon enough: Knee-replacement surgery coming up July 22, a week from Friday.
It’s been hanging over me for two months now, since I went to the knee-replacement surgeon (he also does hips) in early May. At that point, I wanted to get the surgery done as soon as possible (once you make that decision, you’re ready to go, right?), and the first available date was June 21. Couldn’t do it, then, though, because Patty was going to be out of town on business (she has a company that manufactures and sells clergy vestments). The next time and date the scheduler offered was 7:30 a.m. July 5.
I snapped that up, even though I had some misgivings about early-morning surgery the day after the Fourth…What if the surgeon had a couple too many beers on the Fourth…or fireworks kept him awake ’til 2:30 a.m.?
Those concerns became moot, however, after Patty vetoed the date because our 26-year-old son Charlie and his girlfriend were coming for a visit from Las Vegas. I knew they were planning to come but the dates were uncertain at the time I scheduled the surgery. Turned out to be the second week of July.
Even with them here, I would have gone ahead with the July 5 surgery, but, like I said, it was vetoed. Reluctantly, I rescheduled for the “next available” date, which was July 22.
**
I first went to the orthopedist for the knee about a year and a half ago, when it started giving me more than passing pain. I’m no stranger to knee problems, having had three arthroscopic surgeries on the left and one on the right over a period of many years.
The orthopedist — not the one who is doing the surgery but another in the same group — diagnosed the problem as osteoarthritis and said the arthritis had eroded much of the remaining cartilage, the buffer between the femur and tibia. Once the buffer is gone, it’s “bone on bone,” and that means one thing — pain.
I love that orthopedist. He has helped me with shoulder and knee problems and in 2007 put a plate and screws in my left ankle after I had broken it in a fall on the ice. But on this knee, he gave me false hope. He said periodic steroid shots would help — they did — and then he added: “At some point, maybe in 15 or 20 years, you’re going to need a knee replacement.”
Fifteen or twenty years, I thought…wow, that’s great!
I should have known better because that orthopedist is one who never pushes surgery, saying, “There isn’t any condition that surgery can’t make worse.”
Late last year, as the knee pain was increasing, I had an MRI, which indicated a possible re-tear of the cartilage. As a last-gasp measure to forestall knee-replacement surgery, I asked the orthopedist to perform another arthroscopic surgery. He did, and at first it seemed to help a bit. But a few months ago, the knee pain increased significantly.
About the time the pain was increasing, I unwisely purchased tickets for two days of the U.S. Open golf tournament in Pittsburgh (last month) and had made airline and hotel arrangements. The week before the trip, I realized it was a pipe dream and canceled the airline, hotel and rental car reservations. I tried to sell the tournament tickets on eBay but wasn’t successful, so I ate $235.
On the other hand, I’ve been able to play nine holes of golf every week or so, using a cart and hobbling from green to cart and cart to tee, and applying my putter to double duty as a cane. The last time I played was early last week, and I don’t know if I’m going to try it again; the pain is worse, and I’m worried that I might screw up my back since I can’t swing the club as freely as I used to.
For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been sitting around watching re-runs of “The First 48” on A&E (one of the best damned TV shows to ever come along, in my opinion) and women’s and men’s golf tournaments.
Yesterday and today I got up and put on a golf outfit — pink, salmon or red pants and a white Polo-type shirt (ghastly, I know) — with every intention of getting in the car and driving to the course. But then fear, discomfort and inertia send me back to the front-room chair for more TV.
…July 22. Finally, it’s within range. I look at it on the calendar like a kid looks at Dec. 25 thinking it will never arrive. My only worries now are that the surgeon might cancel for some reason or I might turn up with a fever and have to reschedule.
My only other concern is that the surgeon is going to view me as just another body being trundled onto the O.R. bed. Well, I’m going to make it very clear before the surgery that he is about to work on none other than The Fabulous JimmyC and that thousands upon thousands of loyal readers are relying on his skill to get me back to “work” as soon as possible.
My husband just had it. Just do the exercises! First two weeks are the hardest.
Thanks, Bev…That’s what several people have told me.
(I didn’t know you had remarried. Congratulations…whenever it occurred.)
Jim:
We’ll be thinking of you. My knees used to go out all the time–one at a time. I’d wrap a bandage around them and drag around until they went back in place.
More than 10 years ago, I started going to a massage therapist once a week.
Have no trouble now at all. It’s almost a miracle.
I add my congratulations to yours for Bev Haskins.
Am sure you will get along beautifully July 22.
All best,
Laura
Thanks, Laura. I sure wish there was some other fix for my problem, but I don’t think there is. Once that cartilage is gone, your options are two — have the surgery or hobble around in pain.
If you’re concerned that the surgeon is going to view you as just another body, you’ve selected the wrong surgeon.
Hopefully, you’re just joshing.
I plan to make sure to call my personal self to his attention…I’m good at that.
Just make sure you do it before they give you the gas!
Oh, and don’t forget to have the surgery leg marked.
Copy Editor says: your options.
Jim, Gerald and I wish you the very best of luck with your surgery!! Make sure you are faithful with your rehab – that is the secret to success. Gloria
Thanks, Gloria.
Gayle — Thanks for the correction…appalling error.
That’s ok; I know your synapses are focused elsewhere.
hey jim — several people, including my younger brother, that have had it say the only bad thing is the therapy. but if you get thru that everything is a piece of cake. let me know how you do
OK, Jack…Good to hear from you again.
I hope they have given you leg exercises to do BEFORE surgery, Do them. Don’t renege because there is no one to keep count. When you come out of surgery your leg should already be in a contraption that is gently forcing you to flex that knee. If they wait a week, it’s already too late.
My surgery was in Joplin with my daughter casting a surgeon’s eye on everything the knee surgeon did. I think my problem was a long-ago injury, because it was one knee only.
I had already become the family’s chauffeur, so the surgeon knew I was concerned about driving. At my two weeks post-exam, he told me I “could do anything I wanted to do.” I still had to drive around a big parking lot to prove to my daughter that I could.
Be rigorous about after-surgery exercises. My biggest problem was walking on unlevel surfaces. I still sometimes walk like I’m drunk, (without benefit of alcohol).
Take up knitting — it saved my sanity, gave me an excuse for staying in my comfortable chair, kept me from coming unraveled. (I give free lessons to worthy students.)
You need some distraction between now and THE DATE. Get in touch with one of us about listening to Bob Sands talk on July 18 about how he, Del Black, Sid Bordman, Joe Henderson and Jim Murray came to write a fabulous book about the Royals.
Thanks for the advice, Peg…I don’t know about knitting, but I’ll probably find something to occupy my time. I think I’ve seen about every installment of “The First 48.”
Hope you’re back on the links soon, Jim.
Thanks, Les.