I’d like to thank all of you who checked on me during my six-week medical sabbatical. During that time I had two more surgeries related to breaking my left leg in March.
One was to scour the inside of my leg to help alleviate a nasty staph infection, and the second was to remove my left knee replacement gear from a previous surgery about eight years ago.
The staph had adhered to the prosthesis, and it wouldn’t scrub or scrape off.
I’m sure you’re tired of my braying about my crappy knees.
When this infection is gone, there’s knee surgery #12 remaining on the docket. They have to replace the original replacement re-kick knitting at my break points.
Lost in all this is the fact that because of the infection, the broken bones stopped healing. Let me offer a suggestion, if you ever break a bone, be sure your doctor isn’t so one-dimensional that he doesn’t pay attention to the rest of your parts.
It’s going to total about a year correcting what could have been avoided if the doc kept his head in the game and paid attention to those who warned about a looming infection.
Since I’m only eight months away from celebrating four score on the calendar, each new year is more valuable than the last.
I’m worn out imitating Evel Knievel in my self powered wheel chair. If this ever ends, I’ll have to re-paint the inside of my house where I’ve scraped or run into every door, wall and those dreaded door knobs.
I’ve high-centered twice in my kitchen trying to make sharp turns around the middle island. If you’re tired of reading this, imagine how tired I am writing it.
My family tells me I’m not missing much, provided I enjoy wearing a mask and don’t have the pleasure of eating out any more.
Speaking of, with multiple surgeries and heavy doses of anesthesia and constant antibiotics, my taste buds are shot.
I’ve never eaten one of my socks, but that’s as close as I can describe what I imagine my meals taste like. It’s a heckuva diet plan, but I don’t recommend it.
With my second favorite holiday fast upon us, don’t think with all this griping that I’m not a grateful old codger.
I’m probably more thankful today than ever before. I’ve got a great family, and somehow without breaking too many of the 2020 taboos, we intend to have a delicious Thanksgiving and enjoy each other’s company.
It may not be as intimate as before, but we’ve found we can laugh and joke and be thankful from across the room.
Be safe, and we’ll see you next time.
Reach BH at email@example.com.