C's knees

I have two brand spanking new (what an odd phrase) knees.  They are made of titanium and they set off metal detectors in airports.  Flying with Bud has always been an adventure.  He does not fly well.  I don't know if he is afraid of flying and won't admit it, or exactly what the problem really is, but whenever we went anywhere by airplane there was an excellent chance I was gonna feel like shrinking to the size of a gnat and flitting out of the terminal or airplane.  Now I will admit, it seems there is no such thing as service in the airline industry any longer.  It has gotten worse and worse until now passengers are barely treated better than cattle to slaughter.  But Bud has zero tolerance for blunders or confusion when it comes to flying.  He is impatient, unruly, unreasonable and loud.  Most of the time his complaint is justified and he gets what he demands, maybe just so they can get him to shutup.  Once in awhile he comes up against someone who faces him down,  and then I have to intervene before we find ourselves stranded in some strange airport because they wouldn't let us on the plane.  Of course, 9-11 made flying a nightmare for everyone because of the security measures and restrictions on what you can and can't take onboard.  Bud has sleep apnea and must sleep with a CPAP every night.  He takes the CPAP as carry-on luggage.  He is always singled out at the security checkpoint so they can manually search the CPAP and test to make sure there are no explosives in there.  Now, with my new knees, I am also singled out and made to stand aside to be "wanded" from stem to stern.  Of course, I tell them I have artificial knees.  I would never wait until the buzzer sounds to bring up the subject.  But it is always necessary for me to be put in a special location where I will become a spectacle for all to see.  I wonder how many passengers think I'm a suspected terrorist?  They check me over to be sure only my knees beep.  I even wear shorts so they can see the scars, but that makes no difference.  I suppose it is possible someone who smuggles drugs or who wants to conceal a weapon might have knee replacement surgery, but having gone through it twice, I can assure you that is a pretty drastic measure.


Anyway, I love my new knees.  I have suffered from osteoarthritis most of my life.  I have it in my hands, my neck, my back, my shoulders, my sacroiliac and I did have it in my knees.  I have taken medication to alleviate the pain for 20+ years or so, and that always seemed to help.  All of my employment has involved typewriters or keyboards so my hands always got a lot of exercise.  Still, as I've aged there is only so much you can do to ease the pain and the rest you just learn to live with.  I make certain when I go to sleep each night that my fingers are extended and not balled up, because if they are balled up I will have a difficult and painful time getting my hand open in the morning.  About ten years ago, my knees started bothering me so severely it was difficult to walk.  I located an outstanding orthopedic surgeon (a big shout out and thanks to Dr. Andy Collins) and over the years we became great friends.  We started out with cortisone shots.  If you have never had a cortisone shot you're lucky and you don't ever want one.  It feels as if you are being injected with hot lead, and that large needle stays in you until everything in the vial has been slowly injected into your joint.  When they work, they are wonderful.  But the effect of cortisone lessens each time you get another until you reach the point the injections are useless.  That happened to me in 2007.


I had been delaying surgery until I just couldn't stand the pain one minute more.  So, of course, that happened at the worst possible time.  We were on our first and only trip to Las Vegas in March of 2007.  We were traveling with Bud's brother Mike and his wife Andee and her brother Richard.  Our friends Tim and Ann Webb were also with us.   We had to change planes in Dallas/Ft. Worth, which involved running from the end of one terminal to the end of another.  DFW is not a small airport.  Then we had to stand around for about an hour waiting for transportation to the hotel once we got to Vegas and found our luggage.  I was hurting pretty badly, but I was so excited about being in Las Vegas and I wanted to see and do everything.  We were only there for four days so we were planning to pack a lot into each day.  One of our friends is a drummer for the Blue Man Group in Vegas and seeing Nick play was gonna be the highlight of the trip.  I also wanted to be sure to see the Hoover Dam.  We went to the Hoover Dam on the first full day we were there.  It was a lot of walking, but I was fascinated by the whole thing.  I'm not much of a gambler and wasn't really interested in the casinos except from the standpoint of all the flashing lights and noise.  I played a few quarter slots, but for the most part I didn't go to Vegas to gamble.  The next day we all did a little sightseeing and Ann and I went to see a great show by a man who trains cats.  No this is not a joke.  His name is Gregory Popovich and he makes those ordinary housecats do amazing things.  The others in our group went to the casinos and Tim went to visit Nick (they are cousins).  That night we all went to see the unbelievably clever Blue Man Group show and went out with Nick and his wife Jeniffer for dinner after the show.  The next day we set out to visit all the magnificent hotels.  Before we even made it to the first hotel I was unable to walk another step.  Bud put me in a cab and sent me back to the hotel and that was the end of the trip to Vegas for me.  Before anyone gets outraged that Bud didn't go back to the hotel with me, I would not let him.  Just because I was not able to function was no reason he should miss out on any of the fun.  I would be just fine back in the room, off my feet, and he could still enjoy his trip.  It would only have made me feel worse to have ruined his vacation too.


As soon as we got back to Greensboro, I contacted my orthopedist and went in for an evaluation.  X-rays showed there was little to no cartilage in either knee and it was just bone rubbing against bone.  We scheduled arthroscopic surgery for my left knee in September to see if it could be built up enough to hold me for awhile, because my right knee needed to be replaced first.  The surgery was set for October.  In July, we went to Pawley's Island, South Carolina for a week at the beach with our fantastic and generous friends, Dr. Dave and Dr. Terry.  My knees hurt so much I was not able to stay in the water because the waves and the undertow were killing me.  It is the first (and I hope last) time I spent any time at a beach and did not go in the water.  That was the final straw as far as I was concerned.  I had my left knee scoped in September and it seemed as if it was going to hold.  I had my right knee replaced in October.  I will not go into all the details, but suffice to say it is serious surgery and you are in a lot of pain for a long time afterward (thank God for better living through chemistry).  Physical rehabilitation takes about six weeks or more, but the first two weeks are really the only part that is nearly unbearable.  Our friends Rita and Harold had a wedding for their youngest daughter Clark two weeks after my knee surgery.  I went to the wedding but I can honestly say I do not remember one single thing that happened that night.  Such a shame too.  It was at the Grandover Resort, one of the classier establishments in this area.


I was back at work within six weeks and I healed remarkably fast.  Unfortunately, now that I had a really good right knee, it caused my left knee to deteriorate rapidly.  We schedule surgery for the second knee replacement for the following October.  The second surgery and recovery went as well as the first and by the end of 2008 I had two good knees and was a walking fool.  My oldest brother Harry has problems with his knees, but he is still in the cortisone shot stage.  Because he is 10 years older than I am, he likes to brag that his younger sister had knee replacement surgery but he hasn't needed it yet.  His younger brother (and my 5 years older brother), Glenn, has also had both of his knees replaced (much more recently than my surgeries), and this seems to make Harry gloat too.  I don't know what he's crowing about.  His knees still hurt.  Mine don't and I'd venture to guess by now Glenn's don't hurt him either.  So far I haven't heard either of my sisters complain much about aching joints, so I pray this whole mess bypassed them.


So, I was able to walk as much and as far as I wanted from the beginning of 2009 until August 27, 2009.  Oh, my knees are still perfect.  They'll probably last longer than the 15-20 year expected lifespan because I don't get to use them a lot.  Now that I have SCDS, walking is a chore.  It doesn't hurt (unless I fall), but it sure isn't any fun.  Ain't life strange?