Happy New Knee

FINALLY. Finally I feel like the pain is subsiding enough that my energy is returning.

I had total knee replacement surgery on December 30th. The last five weeks have been a little surreal. Thankfully, my orthopedic surgeon uses a robot to assist in the surgery; it cuts down on the recovery time. So, I’m at this point a lot sooner than if I’d have had  the traditional knee replacement.

I started my leave of absence from work on December 20th. I wanted to make sure I decreased my chances of bruising or cutting my leg at work before my surgery date; a cut or bruise would cancel my surgery. I am constantly giving myself mystery bruises and asking myself, “How the hell did I do THAT? What was I doing, cleaning out horse stalls?” I’m basically a banana. I joked with our store manager, Dub (it’s a Texas thing. Means third, or something like that), I was going to wrap my left leg with bubble wrap. He said, “Well, then you’ll get heat rash and they won’t do your surgery.” I replied, “Good point smarty pants; it’s Florida, we don’t have winter an ymore.” I survived the next ten days creatively dodging the clutter at home. And, there’s lots of clutter. Our home has been in mid-packing mode for the eventual move. I had to stop the packing because of my screaming knee. Once my knee started its downslide last year it degenerated quickly. Now, I think I will add controlled burns to my menu of housecleaning techniques. Maybe the fire fighters will be hot…oh, wait…that’s a pun.

This whole medical event has been otherworldly to me. My most recent overnight hospital stay was in 2016 for two sleep studies to learn if I had sleep apnea, which I knew I had from my then-husband, Brian.  Prior to that was when I spent a couple of weeks in an incubator in the Philadelphia hospital in which I was born preemie. That was 1960 and, by the way, back then everyone and their dogs smoked so there were lots of preemies. I have no real incubator memories. In neither case was I getting my leg cut open and parts of my knee cut out and replaced by a surgeon I really didn’t know.  I only knew his reputation was very good (I met several of his other patients at work who said he was, “great,” Personally, I’m beginning to suspect an endearing trait I call, muy loco, but in a good way) and that he was a D.O. rather than an M.D. That was kind of comforting because all my childhood doctors, after moving from New Jersey, were D.O.’s and they were all excellent doctors. We lived close to an osteopathic hospital–Sun Coast Hospital in Largo.

Thus, I was pretty nervous on the 29th and only got about an hour of sleep. I figured, oh well, I will be taking a nap by the time Dr. H slices into my knee. No R.E.M. sleep so not much chance of dreams. A Robert Plant dream would have been awesome but, possibly embarrassing and dangerous.

To be continued.


Hey, these are pages from The Paris Codex. It’s an ancient Maya text housed in Paris, hence it’s name. It has nothing to do with my blog. Apparently, my phone and computer are communicating in hieroglyphics that are not mutually understandable. Because the photos that would have made sense that I moved from my phone to my computer disappeared. My Beetle used to eat my things, too. I affect technology in such a way that I want to throw devices against immovable structures, like walls or the floor. Luckily, it is three a.m. and I’m too tired. I’ll deal with this….later today.




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