In a couple of weeks, I'm going to have knee surgery. I've been limping for over a year and have tried Remicade treatments (which has helped my other joints just not my knee), physical therapy, Synvisc and Cortisone injections. Now it's time to have my knee "cleaned out." The cleaning is done through arthroscopic surgery where they shave off the nastiness and suction it out. It sounds really gross and so stopped listening when the doctor was explaining it.
The doctor also cautioned (several times) that the surgery may not help. The alternative to the scope surgery (or the next step) is a knee replacement. Because I'm only 44 and knee replacement joints have a shelf life of fifteen years, I would might have to have multiple new knees in my life. So the doctors would like to hold off on that option.
It's been a funny year or so. I've learned how to hoist myself out of chairs and the car with only one good leg. I've learned that sitting on a couch can be adventure getting up.
I have instituted the 3 shoe rule. If the third pair of shoes that I've tried on doesn't fit, then I'm calling in sick. I figure at that point God is trying to tell me something.
I've learned that the good folks at work will offer to get things from the break-room for me so they can save me steps.
I've also learned that those same good folks will tease me about getting a cane and holler at me if I try to do too much. It's a blessing to have friends that make you smile and set you right too.
From visiting the hematologist and sitting in that waiting room, I've learned that no matter how bad things get, there is someone worse off than me.
I'm not without my pity parties. The day I broke down and finally got a disabled placard for my car was not a good day. But I'm thankful for the days when I can walk and park in the "normal" spaces.
Prednisone makes me crazy. It's a necessary evil. And I try not to be evil when I'm on that stuff. And my good friends will also point out that my bloated face is the result of the medicine and I'll go back to normal when I'm off that stuff.
Remicade makes my hair curly. Don't know why that is. It just is. And it's not uniformly curly, but curly in odd spots around my head. Very annoying.
And shaving my legs is also adventure. Only one good leg to stand on.
There's a good book title, "One Good Leg to Stand On."
