Knee Saga Part 8--The Rationale

The  only grandparent who was alive when I was born was my mother's mother, who died when I was 12 years old.  In most of my memories she sits in her chair by her kitchen window, drinking tea from a bowl, crippled by what was then called rheumatism.  She used a cane when she walked:  when we were little, Nanny sometimes would walk with Helen and my mother to check out the gardens and the fruit trees, and whatever animals were on the property.  Earlier there had been chickens and goats, and later on only a dog and cat.  She walked slowly with effort; I never knew her to move about freely, even though she was "only" 78 when she died.  I think her hips might have been the most severely affected, but her knees were most likely not in the best shape either. 
   My mother loved the outdoors; she could not feel at home when confined inside.  When she was still in her teens, she was hired to work  at the Shirt Factory in Lansingburgh, operating a sewing machine.  She told me she couldn't stand it, and never went back after the first day.  She had to have access to the outdoors.  My mother actually liked physical labor; she enjoyed working in her vegetable garden, and a special pleasure was raking.  She used to walk all over the village, taking my sister and me with her on summertime evening strolls; later she would walk to Sara's house, and of course to the post office.  The time came, though, when her knees threatened her mobility. My father drove her to Dr. S. in Mechanicville.  He injected her ailing and failing knees with cortisone over  a period of time. Initially she regarded the injections as miraculous, but sadly the effect did not last and her knees continued to  deteriorate.  She no longer walked through the village, her garden grew smaller over the years, and in her later years she took to sleeping downstairs to avoid the climb to her bedroom.  My mother was a brave and strong woman; the closest she ever came to complaining was to remark, frequently,  "I'd be all right if it wasn't for my knees."   I believe she would have opted for knee replacement if it had been available to her, and I think she would be in favor of me having it too.  Anything I have of value came from my mother, so I think I will do what I think she would want for me.  That is why I made and kept the appointment with the doctor  who was rumored to be not only the best orthopedist in the area, but the best looking.  Who could resist.....TBC