It's been 34 days since my favorite orthopedist sliced open my left knee, yanked my arthritic knee out, and replaced it with the latest model. Honestly, the recovery has gone rather well. Eight days into healing I had ditched my cane and taken a half-mile walk with my at-home physical therapist. I've been back behind the wheel of my car since my two-week check-in. On Monday, I return to work and will try my best to kindly remind my students of the behavior expectations we have worked so hard on perfecting from September to January.
Even so, I still think about that old knee and the 60 years it gave me. Left Knee was an important helper as I made my first moves crawling from here to there. That knee straightened and steadied me as I clutched anything I could and tried to lift myself to the standing position. It held me up as I walked, and walked, and walked. Jumping, running, skipping- no matter the motion- Left Knee was there to help. My favorite orthopedist would probably say that running wasn't the best idea as I got older. It caused too much wear and tear on that poor hinge joint. Even if it wasn't, I wouldn't trade the feeling of freedom as my legs and knees helped me take in the sights of the nation's capital at my slow and steady 10-minute mile pace. (Okay, maybe 11 or 12 at times.)
So, here's to Left Knee and Right Knee too- she got replaced three years ago. These new knees may be fancy but they will never give me the years and memories that the originals did.
I hear you. There's nothing like seeing the town from the running trail. Your knees deserve a lot of love for their service.
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