The Absent Uncle: A last chat about knees

Over the last year or so I have had a number of columns that have been about the knee replacements I have had in each of the past two Julys. The second was on July 2 of this year, and as of this writing, I am approaching the end of 13 weeks since the procedure.

My last scheduled physical therapy is tomorrow and the final appointment with the surgeon is scheduled for Thursday. It is just a formality, as all is going well, and other than a bit of stiffness in the morning and if I sit around too long in one position, the second knee, as well as the first, is considered successfully replaced. 

As I look back on the almost 16 months since the first surgery, it seems like a long, long time ago. Every month has a milestone event attached to it and through all of it I kept a positive, looking-forward-to-the-next-step-attitude and really never dwelled on the “inconvenience” of it all. 

That is, until the past few days, when a friend told me that she was now on track to have her second knee replaced (her first was done early this year) and another niece of mine called me the same day to talk about her first knee to be replaced tomorrow. 

Maybe it was the coincidence of two people in my life reaching out to talk about a major surgery in their lives on the same day, both looking for positive reinforcement and “tips” on what I learned from my experience, or maybe the whole process I had gone through just caught up to me. 

I gave each of them everything I could about what I thought they could expect and encouraged them both to move forward with their plans, work hard on the rehab, and let me know if I can assist in any way going forward.

But inwardly I felt something very different – not about them – but about me.

The feeling that jumped out was I was so glad to be me and not them; to have now come close to finishing the process and happy that we humans only have two legs, thus just two knees, and I won’t have to experience this again.

Please don’t read this and think I am regretful of doing the knee replacements. I am not. They were necessary and I will reap the benefits over my coming years, and I am thankful for the ability to have this done both modern medicine wise and physically able. But I am sure tired of doing the rehabilitation work.

The time cannot come quickly enough to be able to take a long walk, to bicycle around my neighborhood, to not have to schedule therapies, be disciplined to perform home exercises to keep my leg muscles from stiffening (this one probably never goes away!), and just planning around a major elective surgery. Life is good.

P.S. I bet my wonderful wife Sherrill is happier than me that this chapter is behind us; I couldn’t have done it without her.