Saturday, May 26, 2018

Knee, Knee

     Starting to look like I have finally worn out my damaged knee.  The doctors warned me it was ticking  timebomb.  In 2006, after my scooter wreck, broken thighbone (a spiral fracture that started at the "distal condyle," one of the two knobs of bone on the end that are part of the weight-bearing surfaces of the knee joint), cartilage damage and  surgeries, I was told it was only a matter of time and that I might get ten years from the existing joint.

     Well, I got twelve years, so there, doctors!  Replacement knees are never as good as the real thing and have a limited lifespan themselves, so however far I could kick that can down the road short of retirement counts as a win.

     The knee brace helps and I used my cane all this past week.  At work Friday, I knocked a desoldering iron off the workbench.  Caught it -- they're heavy, fragile and relatively costly -- but someone had left it plugged in, and wouldn't you know, the bacon smell* was coming from the web of my left hand, right where the handle of the cane goes when you shift your weight over to it while the right foot is on the ground.  Skin thickened up and there's a blister underneath, a nice example of a second-degree burn.  So I'm sure hoping the knee brace is going to work out for a few days while that heals.

     Trying to get scheduled to see an orthopedic specialist -- maybe it's just something simple they can patch up and I get another four or five years, then swap the part out right before retirement.
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* Dreadfully enough, it would smell tasty if you didn't know the source.   You know what happened to the other hominids?  I'm thinkin' maybe our ancestors had them over for dinner.  Aw, shuddup and finish your Denisovan, it's been a long, cold winter.  Or to quote NatGeo, "Early results already suggest modern humans underwent genetic changes involved with brain function and nervous system development, including ones involved in language development, after splitting from Neanderthals and Denisovans."  Yes, language, which you need to communicate recipes

5 comments:

Fuzzy Curmudgeon said...

It’s called “long pig” for a reason.

Sorry about your knee. And hand. Hope you are better soon.

RandyGC said...

Been there done that on the hot iron (soldering in my case)

I really should try to treat a dropped soldering iron like a dropped pistol, let it fall, and ALWAYS wear shoes when soldering (though more for solder splatters than dropped irons).

But I understand the instinct to try to catch it.

Good luck on the knee. I've got a few more years before I have to look at doing something about the left one, by which time maybe the neuropathy will kill all feeling there and it won't hurt?

Anonymous said...

Yes, language, which you need to communicate recipes. This is the absolutely funniest thing I've read in years. it should be carved into the side of the Oldavi Gorge.

Cincinnatus said...

Denisovan Cordon Bleu

Eainsdad said...

Language...recipes....
This was massively funny for me.
Thank you for being you.
I hope you get better quickly and suffer minimally.