Decisions, decisions.........oy, am I sick of making them........however, the alternative does not appeal to me one bit so onward I go with Eeny, Meeny, Miney, Moe-ing it.
Actually, I made one decision over the weekend that sort of made me feel liberated and almost blogworthy again. After weeks of suffering I decided to consult my Wonderkind orthopedic surgeon who did such a great job on my hip about what he could offer me as a fix for the latest joint to cop-out.
I was gimping and groaning around the garden trying to reposition all my pots for the winter and finally had to laugh at my less than gazelle-like state.........If I were limping because of my recently mended broken hip I figure it would be perfectly acceptable.........no one (not even I) would dare judge me harshly for that. But nooooo, it's my partially reconstructed left knee that has decided to deconstruct and keeps threatening to deposit me on my tush or worse. And that worries me because I do not want to have to retake Broken Hip 101 .......I already got at A in that course and feel there is nothing more for me to learn on that subject.
So off I schlepped today to consult my hero the Surgeon . After xrays were duly taken I was informed that the joint was in the grip of arthritis (so what joint in my bod isn't??) and had little cartiledge left to speak of.
It seems there were still several options:
1. Just suffer. (feh !)
2. Cortisone shot to relieve pain and mega-knee brace (yuk)
3. Knee replacement surgery , excruciating rehab and 6 months recovery period. (aaarrrrrggh)
Number 1 I rejected with disdainful expression and curled lip. (I could do that without a doctor's advice)
Number 2 I half rejected....hated the mega brace part but found the cortisone shot somewhat appealing
Number 3 had been my favorite going in, but I now was not sure about the sound of the rehab and 6 months of big time pain in the recovery process.
However, the part that did me in was when this formerly brilliant, handsome Jewish Doctah suddenly transformed himself into a nerdy nogoodnick by turning a beady eye on me and saying, "I don't know if the knee replacement is worth it........after all, you are 83 years old......"
Naturally I gave him my most penetrating, turning-strong-men-to-stone Medusa stare and reminded him that I was 82 1/2 years old when I graduated Cum Laude (sp?) from Broken Hip 101, but I ended up opting for just a cortisone shot and the name of the top surgeon for knee replacements for me to ponder.
Now, everyone knows that for anyone with even a drop of Jewish blood, the Doctor is next to God of course. But, I must confess, when I left this doctor's office the pedestal on which I had placed him had shrunken considerably. I am not quite sure, but I think I was grievously insulted...... I am considering suing for malpractice, slander and possibly even non-sexual harrassment......
The New Yorker covers: March 17, 1934
8 hours ago