Behind Closed Doors: It Was Just Like the Brochure!

A patient’s journey to new knees: Part 3

Having had my new knee, Laverne, for exactly one year, it was time to replace the other one. Same surgeon, hospital and robotic-assisted surgery. But at my pre-op appointment, my surgeon warned me that “this” knee is an apple, and “that” knee is an orange, and I might experience different results. I told him I had total trust in him and — continuing with the fruit metaphors — that he was the top banana in my book.

Much of the pre-op process seemed easier this time since I knew what to expect. I still needed to endure the joint class and there was the usual round of testing. The way I was poked and prodded, you’d think I would at least have a tattoo to show for it. I rolled out my same lame joke when they drew blood: “Am I going to get that back?” Same blank face.

The brochures they gave me had pictures of attractive older people smiling and playing tennis. Great! I don’t know how to play tennis, but apparently, after replacing both knees, I’ll magically be able to do so. Plus, I’ll be good looking!

By then, Laverne and I had become well acquainted, and she had happily assimilated herself into my leg. I hunkered down and prepared for a similar experience with new knee No. 2, aka Shirley. I made sure there was food in the freezer and made big plans for my recliner and TV. And of course: ice/elevate/medicate/exercise/rinse/repeat.

On the big day, I was nervous and chatty again. For reasons I don’t understand, I must always tell the anesthesiologist that my dear friend is a nurse anesthetist. Sometimes I even ask, “Do you know Sharon?” even though she lives 50 miles from the hospital.

I probably shouldn’t compare knees, but I really think Shirley did much better than Laverne. She complained about PT, but she liked the ice wrap at the end. It shut her up for a while and I got some peace. I had minimal bruising and was released from PT in no time.

I’m happy to report that I am thrilled with both Laverne and Shirley. Not only has my pain dissipated, but my functionality has also markedly improved. I have resumed my bucket list, with hopes of visiting all the U.S. National Parks. My “hiking” over the past few years had become more like hobbling. I remember making my way down a steep path, taking sideways baby steps. I overheard a man use me as a teaching moment for his grandson. “Some people go down the hill sideways like a horse.” Dude, I can hear you; I’m slow, not deaf. Then I whinnied and trotted away.

What a difference new knees have made! And although the brochure implied that I’d be playing tennis, I don’t see that happening. But I do see pickleball in my near future, and I never dreamed I’d be doing that. And since my face is no longer scrunched up in pain, I think I am actually better looking! OSM