I am two days out from total knee replacement. To say I feel like I tried to play a series of downs against some local high school football team would be an understatement. I am sore from head to toe. I have learned two things; one, I am not 30 anymore and two my body is not 18 like the surgery attendants thought it was. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve never had better treatment or been helped by so many committed people. These are perfected professionals, and it shows in their every move, efficient, succinct, and precise. But I am still 66. Here is an example. I had a spinal block for surgery and as all you mothers know it makes the lower half of your body nothing more than a floppy appendage. When they rolled me in the operating room it was like rolling down the assembly line of a Ford plant. At one point they had my leg pushed all the way up and over my body in a position it hadn’t seen since HS football practice. Today my hamstrings are soarer than my knee. If you’ve ever been to the Fish Market in downtown Seattle, I would say I feel like one of those big mackerels they toss around for the tourists, flopping from one set of hands to another. The end of that fish’s day was a frying pan, for me, it was a recliner which I am still trying to get a single part of me comfortable in.
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