Reality Check

First, an apology. Can it really be over a month since my last post? Oh, boy! Life seems to have gotten the better of me in recent weeks.

Is there an excuse? Only wishy-washy ones, I guess.

It threw me for a loop when, after a hastily scheduled MRI, the Orthopedist confirmed that I need knees....two of them. Yes, you are saying, knees are important. And I, of anyone, knew mine were, to put it mildly, tricky.

There was that moment, a couple months ago, when, in a moment of total ungracefulness, I tumbled out the front door when the one on the right gave out on me. I ended up landing in an embarrassed heap in my front yard. (My first thought was, "I'm glad nobody saw that move." The second was, "I'm glad I'm not wearing a dress.")

Still, hearing the news that my knee caps are minus any padding did a number on my

pseudo-youthful ego.

Old. I'm getting there...quickly.

If there was any consolation in the diagnosis, it might have been that the doctor wants me to wait until I am older before scheduling surgery. Since most replacement knees last between 15 and 18 years, having the surgery in my fifties (albeit v e r y late fifties) means most likely having to have it done again in my seventies.

The down-side of that, of course, is living with the bad knees for several years.

Naturally, my doctor insists, the timing of the surgery is ultimately my call.

I'm contemplating the next move.

But in the meantime, the doctor informs me, I should walk with a cane. A cane? What does he think I am, for crying out loud....elderly?

Within days of the knee news, the cold I caught from my favorite two year old boy turned the corner and sent me to urgent care for a throat culture and the news that I had strep throat.

I was given an antibiotic. It took care of the strep, but played other nasty tricks on my body.

And, I learned some things.

Strep infections knock you for a loop, too, and they are much easier to kick when you are not pushing senior status.

Bette Davis was right. Getting old ain't for sissies!

Looking back on the last month and a half, there was a whole lot of time spent with a book in my favorite recliner. (All right. it wasn't all reading. A fair amount of dozing off incurred as well.)

Eventually, I have come to terms with the knee limitations. When I protested to my hubby that I'm really not disabled, he looked at me. His look spoke volumes. "I don't want to be disabled," I said and his comment was "I'm sure you don't.... but it is what it is."

He's absolutely correct. It's time to get over myself and get back to doin' whatever it is I do...including writing this blog.

And so I'm back, cane and all.