Well, tomorrow I go under the knife one more time for total knee replacement. The first one went really well and I’m hoping this one repeats the experience.
There is a difference though. One of the good things last time
was that I was driving a week after surgery—I’m from LA, man; I need my wheels.
But I purposely chose to get the accelerator knee done first. This time it’s
the clutch and it may take me a couple of weeks to be able to manage the
torque. For the last couple of weeks, with no cartilage between the femur and
the tibia, it’s been a little wonky; I’ll have to see what it’s like with the
new device.
Which means I’ve been working on my quads.
I’ve done my fighting with CVS—once again they played silly buggers
with the prescription for oxycodone (but, having gone through it four months
ago, this time I was ready). And, in the end, they didn’t even have it in stock.
(Which they didn’t tell me when I went in to pick up the other scripts, because
why would they give me useful information? When the surgeon's office went through the prior authorization process, that's when they mentioned that little fact.) So the doctor swapped Percocet,
which evidently they do have. What a bunch of maroons; but they have a lock on
retail pharmacies in this area, so I’m stuck.
Well, now I’m stuck but with Percocet.
(Interestingly, they wouldn’t fill the prescriptions for senna and
chewable aspirin. “You can get that OTC; your insurance won’t pay for that.”
Well—but they did back in January, so WTF?)
I’ve stocked up on soup and ice cream. I checked eight Agatha
Christie novels out from the library. I’ve got a ride to the hospital;
<cough> 0530 for 0730 surgery. (God bless friends.) My camp bed is set
up; walker and cane at the ready. I have confirmation of COBRA coverage (which costs 9x what I was paying through my employer, but better the devil you know in this instance. I can sort something else out in a couple of months.) I think I’m set.
But please feel free to send any healthy and healing thoughts my
way.
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