Monthly Archive for October, 2009

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Total Knee Replacement: Taking Advice from The World

Published on October 15, 2009 in Baby Boomer. 11 Comments


I’ve never had a Total Knee Replacement, (ta da dummmmmm) so I’m taking advice from anybody who has been through it, is going to go through a Total Knee Replacement, knows somebody that went through it, or is thinking about going through a Total Knee Replacement for a great blog post series.

So far I have this advice:

From Bulbous: Do the rehab.

From Brian: Do the rehab.

From Kirk: Do the rehab.

From Aubenades: Take the narcotics

From BBQandBourbon: Apply Bourbon liberally internally to kidneys.

From The Hull Truth: Blame it on work. Yeah, like people would believe that, HAR.

From Debbie: Kwitcher bitchin’

From Catch Her in The Wry: Do the rehab in water. Which is a great idea. Bourbon and water!

Since we have a hot tub (or spa as we owners prefer to call it) I think I will toss the treadmill in the spa, hop on and have Nancy plug that sucker in.

From Top Dog: Keep the old knee. Which is another great idea, but I my expelled body parts will be declared a bio-hazard and I can’t have any part of my ownself.

Damn shame, because we have:

  • bone chip from Nancy’s knee (which she told people was the remnant of her unborn twin)
  • Nancy’s gallstones
  • a dead dog’s kidney stones (Tramp, a former dog of ours, the removal of the kidney stones had nothing to do with his death.)
  • a part of one of my molars

When I think about what we paid to acquire these assets, I bothers me that Dr. Patton will be recycling my knee.

Back to the advice on the Total Knee Replacement. What say you?

Total Knee Replacement: Shall I Just Screw With Their Minds?

Published on October 14, 2009 in Baby Boomer. 0 Comments Tags: , , .


Grandad writes today of a person in the hospital who almost became the victim of mis-communication…

patient was being wheeled down to the operating theatre, and the nurses and anaesthetist were discussing the impending operation. The patient had to butt into their conversation to point out that their information was wrong, and that the problem was on the patient’s right side and not the left.

Herself, Grandad’s better 2/3, also met a similar screw-up, and Grandad Himself, went in to the hospital for a conked noggin and found out later he had three broken ribs.

Gulp.

During pre-op for my Total Knee Replacement (ta-da-dummmmm) twice the nurse asked if I was having my left knee replaced.
Yes and Yes.
The pre-op nurse explained that I will be asked this many times. Even in the O.R.  (I shall henceforth refer to the O.R. as Operating Theater, so much classier.) She opined that it was not that they didn’t know what they were doing, it’s just that they wanted to make sure.

No shirt, shitlock! Thank you trial lawyers.

Unless Grandad will make an overseas house call for some of his D-I-Y body repair, I will be offering up these assessments of my Total Knee Replacement (ta-da-dummmmmm).

Left Knee Replacement? Why no… I’m here for a…

  • Cleft Brie Displacement – I’m only here to cut the cheese
  • Theft Flea Emplacement – I’m liberating clueless creatures to a warmer environment
  • Bereft Bourgeoisie Replacement – I’m there to take some loser doc’s place
  • Anti- Guarantee Weapons Emplacement – Installing the Sarah Palin/Glenn Beck Medical Death Panel

I wonder if they have a sense of humor in the Operating Theater?

Hope I get one of those nifty new scans… to explain the unexpected side effect of the Nutrisystem “food.”

Thanks Nutrisystem. After Spending Huge Bucks, Maybe I’ll Find a Treasure in My Sunken Chest.

Published on October 13, 2009 in Baby Boomer. 0 Comments Tags: , , , .


When I was a kid we thought it was a riot to read lbs. as lubs.

I’ve used Nutrisystem “food” for a few weeks.  I got weighed today on an official doctor’s office scale, and not the truck scale I usually use.

I’ve lost 26 lubs.

When I asked Nancy if she could tell, (because I can’t) she said “Yes, you want to know where?”

Of course I do? My beer belly is gone! right?

No, apparently my chest is! She gestured across her ample bosom (and that’s not a slam, dear) that I she could notice it “right here.”

I guess my man boobs are gone. Not exactly what I was aiming for, but it’s a start.

manboobsmanboobsgone

Total Knee Replacement: The Saga Begins

Published on October 13, 2009 in Baby Boomer. 10 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , .

Okeedokee, after being told a decade ago I probably needed (resisted urge to spell that kneaded)  to have my left knee totally replaced, I’m doing it, with the help of Dr. Patton.

I was fifty when I had the first prognosis from Dr. Patton so getting a total knee replacement seemed stupid.

Actually I was told many many decades ago that I would probably have a “highly arthritic” knee as the result of a car wreck.

Which reminds me of a clever word play my Mother told be.

Bruises hurt, Erased afford.  Erector, anaylsis too. Infectious dead. (Click to translate.)
She taught me this probably at the same time she taught me the lyrics to Mairzy Doats – on a very long road trip:

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Total knee replacements didn’t even exist back then.  My option then would have been a peg leg. Which of course, is way cooler. I would like a peg leg, wooden shoe?

totalkneereplacement

I put off the knee replacement surgery by getting injected with some junk made out of cock’s comb for years.

It’s what the bone cutter recommended. (Little did he know my high ratio of pain to dollars.) He told me that I should put off the surgery as long as possible because if I had it done five years ago and lived until 116, I probably would have to have it done again. The longer I can keep the old joint and not suffer, the better off I would be.

But no more. Knee pain is keeping me from my precious sleep. Well that, and a dog that thinks I’m it’s leaning post, and another one that recently decided a midnight pee is desirable.

I will go under the knife soon and my old joint will be replaced with a new one. Gotta be a marijuana joke there someplace… comment if you have one.

I pondered the surgery and wondered aloud, “if you can have a baby with just a spinal block, why can’t I have my knee replaced with a spinal block?”

Nancy gave a cogent answer, which is rare with all the drugs she is ingesting lately.

“Do you really want to hear them fire up the bone saw?”

Uh, no.

And now… the words every blog reader hates to read: I’ll keep you posted on my surgery.

Post Office Picketers Point Out Preposterous Proposition

Published on October 13, 2009 in Baby Boomer. 1 Comment

The fact that the local postal workers union, and I guess some UAW members and other union members, picketed the closing of the local mail sorting branch on a day the post office was closed to celebrate the Italian Stallion’s birthday is fitting.

If the USPS says the mail from Smallburg, Kentucky should to to Nashvegas to be sorted, so be it. What is the problem? The USPS should be rewarded for having the guts to take some serious action.

Some people are genuinely upset that the mail sorting branch is closing.

1. Mail will take longer to get across town: Um, No. If  Netflix via USPS can pick up my watched DVD on Monday and deliver an unwatched DVD on Wednesday, it will not take longer for mail to get across town. Nashvegas is  only 70 miles or so away. On a truck that’s about 45 minutes time!

2. USPS workers will lose their jobs. Yes, probably. Picketing won’t keep them here, it just shows how irrelevant it is to belong to a union anymore. Can you name a union that can bring our economy to it’s knees anymore effectively than the Union of Greedy Wall Streeters?

People say they want their postage rates to remain the same — until cutbacks are announced and post office closings are posted.

“All of our post offices are important to our neighborhoods, provide convenience for our residents and jobs in our region. For many Bridgeport residents, particularly the poor and the elderly, a neighborhood post office is an essential part of the community.”

Horse hockey. The geezers who gather at the P.O. to solve the world’s problems would still show up. Most wouldn’t notice the P.O. was closed.

Next up: Stop delivering one day out of six. Maybe Tuesday. Nothing good ever comes on Tuesday. Not even my  Netflix DVD shipment. I’m on a Monday/ Wednesday schedule. Except when Monday is a postal holiday. Rats.