Knee Saga Part 3--The Revelation

So, for my own purposes only, I've reviewed the history of my knees, possible traumas from before any chronic problems developed, and my  attempts to resolve the early symptoms as they occurred. There was never any mention of even potential knee surgery until that visit with Dr. L when he dropped the TKR bomb, saying in no uncertain terms that it was called for, but hey, let him know.  After that shock, because after all, I'd never had surgery of any kind (except for outpatient in 2003), I mostly ignored my knees. When I visited my son in Boston, we walked throughout much of the city, including the entire Freedom Trail, where he lived, through the Boston Commons, wherever the Gay Parade had been held, to Faneuil Hall, Quincy Market, Rose Kennedy's church--all the good places.( Although the time we were there when they opened the Big Dig to foot traffic, I stayed in David's house while he and his father took the trip through the tunnel, about 2 1/2 miles or so.  I remember looking out the open window and watching one of the Holy Day street fairs in the Italian section of town.)  At that time, I was still walking a lot, and my knees only ached the day after extensive activity, so it was easy to ignore.  Besides I had a job, Dave was occupied with his job, my sister was going through her own agonizing experiences, and I couldn't even fathom someone's dealing with caring for me. 
  By 2007, I had finally secured health insurance in retirement, thanks to hard work, union assistance and watchdog attrition, so that worry was taken off the table, but I was still not motivated to exchange what I could call a minor inconvenience for major surgery.  But the more restricted you are by physical abilities, the smaller your world grows, and the more diminished you become as a person.  Until a person has been there, has begun to age, there is no way to know how willing others, the un-aged, are to accept your decline.  The brutal reality is that you are completely responsible to make the decision as to whether to go gently into that dark night, or try to prolong the inevitable, no matter for how long.  The hard part lies in assessing what the prorated value and cost would be.  With my mother gone for many years, and with the recent loss of my only sister, I find myself placing a different value on the odds. If the risk ends badly, few are left who will be bereft, acknowledging the inevitable,  so the risk is mine alone.So I am now contemplating the formerly taboo surgery from a different viewpoint.    TBC

Knee Saga Part 2--The Mystery

In order to find out what that clicking noise in my knee was, I decided to go to a doctor, not an easy thing to do because I'd been under the exclusive care of a specialist for an entire year, and so was out of touch with other doctors.  I stopped in at one of those medical clinic facilities that was open on Saturdays, and the doctor I saw ordered on-site x-rays.  The doctor read the report at the same visit.  He was very kind and sympathetic, which is kind of disturbing in a doctor.  He advised me to see an orthopedist or, even better, a rheumatologist.  So I did, making an appointment with one from all those years ago when I'd had temporary knee swelling. The doctor still had  my records, 10 years ago as it turned out, and, after reviewing the forwarded x-rays,  he said something about being surprised that I was still  walking around.  I still wasn't in any real pain, but agreed to the glucosamine supplements he suggested.  I did try them for a while, but I never really believed in them as any real cure for knee problems.  So after a few visits, I stopped going to that doctor. 
   After some time passed, I developed a new knee problem:   they started to ache at night, interfering with sleep.  So I made an appointment with an orthopedist, this time in Clifton Park.  He was all business. After I'd undergone extensive x-rays, again on site, the doctor entered the room and the first thing he said to me was, "What is the worst thing I could tell you?"  He went on to give me the answer:   bilateral total knee replacement, which to his mind was a rather simple matter.  After a few months, I'd be in great shape.  "Let me know," he said.  "You need me more than I need you."  I can't remember what I thought about undergoing the surgery, but I knew this was not the time for it.  That doctor did administer 2 sets of cortisone shots, which, miraculously, ended the knee pain from that time right up to the present.  No more night time aching.
   While I was then too young for Medicare, I was covered by employee health insurance, but since I was considered to be a part-time employee, and paid only for the hours worked, the result would be that if I couldn't work, I would not be hired for the next year, and would not have health insurance.  At the time, I was fighting a battle for eligibility for health insurance as a retiree, something no one in my employment category had ever achieved, I was told.  I thought logic was on my side, and as it turned out, I did later succeed in getting health coverage in retirement, after some help from the teachers' union and after the business manager who had denied my claim retired.  A hard fought victory, but one that took time.   TBC

Knee Saga--The History

One of the questions on the form was "Have you ever injured your knee?"  I answered no, but over  a lifetime there are bound to be many injuries, many forgotten, and others not recalled after recovery took place.  I know I fell on my knees trying to learn to rollerskate on a pair of hand-me-down rollerskates that strapped on over your shoes, and which also tended to release and throw you down on the concrete.  I seriously injured my right knee another time ice skating on frozen backup next to my house, when the tip of my skate caught in a crack on the ice, causing me to twist my leg and fall on my knee.  The knee hurt, and remained swollen for quite a while.  Another time I fell off a toboggan which ran over my leg, with 4 other people on board; I remember thinking I had broken my leg, but after a while--days or weeks---the swelling went down and I could walk again without pain. I was a passenger in a car which crashed into another and my right knee sheared off a knob under the dashboard, causing my knee to be cut and bruised.  But when you're young, injuries heal, and you never think of lasting repercussions. 
     As years went by, there were several times when a knee or two caused difficulties.  On one occasion, I had to visit a doctor because my knee inexplicably swelled up just before a family trip to Florida;  the doctor drew out a lot of fluid and prescribed a knee brace, which I wore for a day or so, but definitely not on our trip.  I don't remember which knee exactly,but I suspect it was my right knee, again. 
    Shortly before  our 20th class reunion, my knee was bothering me; I can't exactly remember in what manner, but I visited an orthopedist in Troy,who had been recommended by my kids' pediatrician.  There I received an injection of some type, probably cortisone, but at the time, I wasn't into medical treatments that much, so didn't connect with the procedure.  I do remember it was very, very painful, as if my knee were being nailed to the table.   Afterwards, I walked all over Troy trying to find an outfit to wear to the reunion; no luck there, so I drove over to Cohoes Mills and bought a trendy black jumpsuit.  The fit was perfect right up to the day of my reunion, when I noticed my stomach was protruding  a little, uncharacteristically at the time.  I learned later that I should not have been walking on the injected knee at all, much less all over 2 cities. Also, I should not have received the injection :  the reunion was in July, and my youngest child was born in February of the following year.
    And so it went:  my knees would ache the day after I'd been dancing while wearing heels, which of course was the only way to dance back then.  They'd swell up when I used to work with kindergarteners and kneel by their desks---no pain, just swelling.  The solution was simple:  take off shoes while dancing, don't kneel for extended periods.  No lasting effects.
    Until, that is, the day I was walking into a school, down a longish driveway, and I heard a clicking.  I thought I had a stone in the sole of my shoe, but came to realize the sound was coming from my knee.  And that was the beginning of trouble.    TBC

I'm petrified.

  Kidney stones, gallstones, and an ice-cold stone of granite where the heart used to be.

In Dreams

   Dorothy appeared, and by that I mean, as always, she just shows up.  The understanding is that she has been gone, for some time, but there are never any questions or explanations as to where she'd been or how she got back.  This time, she sits in a chair in my living room, and shows me her feet, commenting that she thinks the swelling is going down.  I look; she is wearing shoes which are black and contemporary looking and socks in a muted design.  The swelling around her ankles seems to have diminished, though the  skin looks slightly darkened and a little mottled.  I tell her yes, I agree, the swelling is less, and I vow to myself that this time I will be more supportive and take every opportunity to give her good news.  In my dream I fervently hope this will be true. 

STALEMATE

I'm unable to post on my other blog unless and until Hell freezes over.

Just Rewards

    If you've never asked for much in life, I guess you shouldn't be surprised if that's what you get.