knee bone's connected to the high tibial osteotomy and medial meniscal allograft
for those of you who have dutifully been keeping score at home (which means you, mom) ... you know that tuesday is the day that i am scheduled to have my Incredibly Nasty Knee Surgery. yes, that's right: after a year of waiting for good dead-guy meniscus, they have apparently found me a match. and so they're gonna cut daddy open, shave down his arthritic bone and slip dead-dude tissue inside me.
and if only i weren't about to find myself in so much horrible pain, here's what i'd say about it: AWESOME.
seriously, think about it: Dead Man's Knee. if the meniscus donor was a big-time baller, i'll be able to dunk now! finally! do you know the torture of being 6'3" and nowhere near able to dunk? i'm lucky if i can get far enough off the ground to step over the homeless man who sleeps in front of my house. it's terrible! or, like, what if my meniscus donor was a super hot vaguely european pansexual? maybe i'll become suddenly irresistible to anyone who makes accidental eye contact with my knee! maybe through my knobbiest of joints i will become some kind of SEX MONSTER! or what if my new meniscus belonged to an evil-genius plotting some crazy international lemur-smuggling scheme and suddenly i'll wake up to find that my knee is a bajillionaire with 12 secret swiss bank accounts in the cayman islands?!!! how will i be able to access all that sweet swiss-cayman loot?
anyway. you can see how complicated, yet awesome, knee surgery can get.
but nothing is quite as complicated as this: my surgeon, Dr. Hot, gave me a ring on friday ... two business days before he was scheduled to slice half of all my knees open. he said "hey mr nice guy. so, i know it's been a year since you were supposed to have this surgery and all ... and i know that you're supposed to have it on tuesday. but here's something funny: there's this new way of doing the procedure which is totally great. i think i want to do it on you. but here's the rub: it would require that you have TWO surgeries over the next two months and, oh yeah, i've only practiced this on two people before. but it's really neat. so. does that sound cool?"
i replied, rather cogently given the circumstances: "uhhhhhhhhhhhh."
he said: "no really, the surgery you are currently scheduled to have is probably the most painful surgery we do. it's way more painful than a total knee replacement." (for those of you still keeping score at home, mom: i've been slated for a high tibial osteotomy and a medial meniscus allograft.)
i said: "uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. i've been waiting for a year and you're telling me this two business days before surgery?"
he said: "think about it."
so i called my dad, pater nice guy. el padre happens to be an orthopedic surgeon (he's also the guy who recommended i see Dr. Hot in the first place, but we'll let that slide ... FOR NOW). i told him: "so Dr. Hot wants me to have this other type of surgery, IN TWO FUCKING INSTALLMENTS because he was talking to some friend that recommended it. and now instead of having the MOST PAINFUL SURGERY OF ALL TIME, he wants me to have two merely "very painful" surgieries A MONTH APART, thereby extending my recovery period by AT LEAST TWO MONTHS. by the way, in case you were wondering, i actually am kind of fond of being able to walk and this is very not cool with me."
so pater nice guy, super-hero-in-scrubs that he is, calls Dr. Hot and lays some jedi surgeon wisdom on him: "um, i don't think this new surgery is the surgery my son needs." Dr. Hot replies: "now that i think about it, you're right. he will get the surgery we planned all along." my dad said "very good."
there you have it. we're back where we started: i am still having the exact same Incredibly Nasty Knee Surgery on tuesday. only now i am much less secure in this decision.
even though it clearly has ceased to matter, here is my take on the operation: why the hell is this guy calling me like three days before surgery to tell me he has a new idea about the procedure i need ... even though i was supposed to have it A YEAR AGO? should i be worried that he was trying to talk me out of the original surgery by telling me that it's the "most painful" surgery he does? after all, that's the surgery i am once again scheduled to have. finally: how old do you have to be before you don't feel like a 7-year-old girl when Daddy calls your doctor to rip him a new asshole?
for those good souls among you feeling inclined to leave comments, please don't tell me that i need to cancel this surgery or find a new doctor. that's not what i need. thank you, though. i have decided to forge ahead with this. what i do need, however, is a lifetime supply of vicodin and whiskey. and a big fat pile of swiss-cayman loot wouldn't hurt either.