I was leaving today. That was the plan. An important appointment out of the way, my birthday past, the open road beckoned and I would be gone, trailer and all. There is a dear old aunt in Manitoba whom deserves a visit and that shining idea has kept me going with something to look forward to. The borderlands of the Canadian Prairies are beautiful this time of year. Then the phone rang.
Finally, much to my surprise a date has been set for a knee replacement; June 20th. I was told “Perhaps in August” so yeehaw, there goes my summer. Maybe by sometime in August I’ll be out and about. I am not complaining, there are times when I want to take an axe to this throbbing horror so the notion of finally being rid of that incessant ten-pound toothache has great appeal. I know there is an ordeal of pain during the recovery that awaits me but all I see beyond that bridge is bluebirds and rainbows. UHUH! Ordeal or adventure; that attitude adjustment is entirely up to me.
Meanwhile there’s a urine yeller peecup truck sitting in my garage. I’ve been thinking that I should take the rear brakes apart and have a look. I have not yet since buying it last fall. Thinking of towing a trailer almost half-way across Canader…. and being the former aircraft mechanic obsessed with preventive maintenance! Uhuh again. Then came a brake squeal and a clunking in one rear wheel. After beating the brake drums off I discovered a wonderland of black muck and rusted everything. Clearly the previous owner had regularly launched boats into the ocean. The brakes had been working wonderfully. How, I cannot explain. There is now black brake soot all over the garage floor and the knees of my coveralls. It’s all part of the familiar but with a knackered-up undercarriage and a lame hand everything takes longer than in the good old days. I clearly understand why old farts can be a bit cranky.
Then there’s the business of jobs like this and working with eye glasses. There is a challenge that comes when you’re humped over like a three-legged dog trying to fornicate with a greasy football. Your glasses, or goggles or spectacles, as you will, keep wanting to leap off your sweaty face. You grab them with one mucky paw and stuff them back into position but of course everything’s a blur now with goop on the lenses. Then the phone rings and you get an itch and then you have an urge to pee. The romance of it all, sweaty testicles. I meant spectacles, spectacles! After injuring my left hand in a motorcycle crash. My existence and survival have depended on that paw all my life. Now it is painful, weak and unreliable. All my days I’ve been life support for that hand and now it needs to retire.
The job is done, the brakes work well. Then a tree swerved in front of me.
No seriously, it’s all good. Then the handle for the engine hood release fell apart. It’s fixed. I checked online and a new electric Hummer is $131000. Plus tax! Think I’ll keep what I’ve got.
Just think, I was going to look for a copy of “ Do It Yourself Knee Replacement For Dummies” I’ve already got a meat saw and a hammer and chisel. It is truly wonderful what modern medicine can achieve. I’ve talked to folks who’ve had this procedure and they all describe it as worthwhile. So I take a breath and jump. I look forward to being able to walk confidently and explore beyond the end of the road. Head Bashed-In Wheelchair Jump.
“The only disability in life is a bad attitude.” Scott Hamilton
Looking forward to seeing you leap through the meadows and follow Simon Biles on her floor routine!