Knee Replacement
Email was all new to me, but once I caught on to it, it was easy to do. Mostly the emails were kind of mundane. Jean would send stuff like; how ya doing, all is well here, work is a pain in the ass, the kids are doing good, I’m going to get my knee replaced. Wait. What? A knee replaced? I called Jean.
“Jean, I had to call right away. What’s going on? What’s wrong with your knee? Is it the good leg or the bad leg?”
“Slow down Beatrice, Jean said. It’s something I have been thinking about for a long time. I’m limping more and I’m in more persistent constant pain. It’s just a matter of time until I will no longer be able to walk. I’m not that old yet and certainly not ready to spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair, which is where I am headed at this rate. The pain and limited mobility are affecting the quality of my life. It’s killing me Bea.”
“But how can they replace a knee on your bad leg? The muscles and stuff are already all messed up, right? Can they fix the other problems too?”
“No, my bad leg will still be bad, but they think they can alleviate the pain which is causing me to limp so badly. In addition to the pain, my leg is also getting weaker because I stopped using my exercise bike. They think they can rehab the muscles somewhat to make my leg stronger.”
“Jean, Are you sure about this? Are you sure they can help it? It all sounds scary to me.”
Jean said, “Yes, I am scared too but I am sure that I have to do something. I know the scary risks of another surgery and I also know the risks of not doing anything. I’m sure I am going to go for it. Wish me luck Bea.”
“Of course, I’ll do more than that, I’ll knock on wood, keep my fingers crossed, scour the base for a four-leaf clover, and sing “Alleluia!” when it’s all over with and when you’re all better again.”
Jean said, “I’ll keep you posted every step of the way, and let’s hope that someday I’ll be stepping out and dancing again. Gotta run, bye for now Bea, hope you’re having a great vacation.”
I sat there thinking to myself “Damn, damn, damn! Jean is going to have her umpteenth surgery. And another freaking big one too. Knee replacement. Damn! I can’t believe this. How can Jean be so calm about it? She’s not, that’s just a front she is putting on. I bet she’s hiding something from me, I know it. How much trauma can one person take? How much and why? Why?
RUCKSACK GRUNT - A Vietnam Veteran's Memoir 