Friday, February 21, 2014


A few years back as many of you know, I had my knees replaced.  They had gotten to the point where there wasn't any other choice but still it was pretty scary.  And I'm pleased to say that I had an exceptional result with them both.  I had a wonderful doctor, a very good physical therapist and I did everything that I was told to insure that I would have the best outcome possible.  You could say I was the poster child for knee replacements and I often was asked to talk to people who were considering such a complicated surgery.

As time went by, at least a year before I tried kneeling figuring that, like everything else, I'd healed enough so that should come back, too.  My doctor moved out of the area after my second knee was done (was it something I said?) so I didn't have the advantage of having my surgeon available to discuss this with so I thought, well, give it a little more time and all will be well.  Even my physical therapist was under the impression that sewing the original knee cap over the appliance was standard in knee replacement surgery.  So, as you've probably guessed by now, that wasn't the case and you'd be surprised how living without a kneecap effects your life.

As with so many things, I turn to humor and writing poetry to add a little levity to even the most difficult situations.  Hope you enjoy this one.

by Patty Lynn

I guess I took for granted
What really was important,
A part of me without, you see,
For granted doesn't warrant.

You see some seven years ago
My doctor said, "They're failing.
Your knees will be unbearable
And you will soon be wailing.

The pain will overtake your life.
You'll have discomfort walking.
The time is now, I mean, and how.
You're xray, well it's shocking!"

So what was I suppose to do?
I didn't have a choice.
The doctor seemed so positive.
And still that little voice...

Inside me wondered, "Was this right.
Was surgery the answer?"
I had real faith in who he was,
This Doc, I thought, a master.

Besides he told me that I was,
The perfect age for knees.
"They last some twenty years, you see.
The surgery's a breeze."

So on I went to have my knees
Replaced, I think they call it,
But had I known what I know now
I'd say, "You better stall it."

Don't get me wrong I'd have to say
The knees are a success.
But I've a bone that I must pick,
An issue I'd address...

For no one told me when replaced,
"Your knees won't have a kneecap,
And you can't kneel anymore.
Hope you don't have a mishap!"

A mishap, oh, a fall you mean.
I get it, 'cause I've fallen.
Without your kneecaps you are stuck
And there you lie, you're callin'...

For anyone who'll help you up,
Can lift you to your feet.
You can't turn over anymore
And then get to your knees!

Without your kneecaps now I know
How much to have them meant.
You feel so helpless 'cause you are.
It feels like you're cement!

So falling is a nightmare, yes,
Dread every time I do it.
But know what I will always miss?
A tub, to get into it...

And take a warm relaxing bath
Reclining there and soaking.
I'd close my eyes and sip some wine.
Sounds heavenly, no joking.

I'll let you think on that a bit.
The getting in, well, possible.
But getting out now that's a trick.
I'd say mission impossible.

And so, as I look back on it,
The knees had to be done.
But all in all, I'd have to say
No kneecaps, that's no fun.

No comments: