A piece of cake?

Remember when you were a kid and your family decided it was time to buy a new car? You picked out a… oh, say, a Ford Falcon, ordered it in metallic blue, and waited for delivery.

In the couple of weeks before the call came from the dealer, you started seeing Ford Falcons everywhere. Most of them were blue. At first it was exciting, and then became so commonplace you were afraid you’d have trouble finding your Ford among the hundreds in the grocery parking lot.

Let word get out that you’re thinking about joint replacement surgery, and everybody you know has had it, or has an aunt or grandfather or neighbor who has done so.

And their stories range from “It was a piece of cake” to “They had to redo his twice because the first ones didn’t hold.”

Oh, dear.

The one constant, however, is this: “I just wish I’d done it ten years ago.”

While I can’t say that yet, I can give you a report to date. Just don’t expect it to be as interesting as a metallic blue Ford Falcon.

A couple of bad spills on a basketball court in 1951 set into motion the events of late July 2007. Ironic, isn’t it, how the athletic aspirations of a 15-year-old kid can mess up the quality of a 70-year-old grandmother’s life? At least this was a positive activity. You can get similar damage from imprudent use of drugs or sexual activity.

The knee went from a now-and-then twinge to a constant ache as arthritis set in and cartilage wore away, leaving the joint bare – bone on bone, with an occasional chip or chunk jamming up the works.

By chance, I learned that a friend was in the hospital when I stopped by for unrelated blood work one morning. She’d had a total knee replacement the day before. “Piece of cake!” she enthused from deep in the euphoria of pain medicine. When I saw her again several months later, she was still saying “piece of cake,” but by then it was the real deal. Years of pain are gone, she walks effortlessly, and is very supportive of anyone’s decision to undergo joint replacement surgery.

Obviously, it’s a matter of individual response. For some, the surgery is simple, for others, more complicated. A friend had both knees done at once a couple of weeks before I had my surgery. He’s a very determined person and is recovering quickly. Figured if he was going to be sidelined for one knee, he might as well get two for the same investment of time.

And then there’s Tom Hughey, legendary training officer of the Peachtree City Fire Department. He’s old enough and beat up enough to retire, but when the joints started giving out, he decided to get them fixed while he has health insurance.

He probably holds a record of some kind: both knees, one shoulder, and one hip. Was scheduled for the second hip toward the end of July when a cardiac abnormality threw up a red flag.

I got distracted by my own event and didn’t call him until a few days ago. “Oh, I’m back at work,” he answered my question. “They did a heart cath and found everything in really good shape.”

When are they going to do the hip replacement? I asked.

“Oh, they did that already. A guy called in and canceled his surgery for the next day, so they asked if I wanted to go ahead, and I said, Sure, why not?”

We’ve taken more time ordering a new car.

Next week, I’ll tell you how mine went.