Clarice

In preparation for my upcoming knee replacement surgery, my doctor encouraged me to school myself in the procedure. This was not a good idea. I Googled “knee replacement” and came face to face with a photo of a knee with a large, nasty-looking scar running right down the middle. OMG! I wish I could scrub that image from my brain. This is when a DELETE button would come in handy. My sister told me I should baby my knee, honor it, and give it some TLC before the big event. So, where do I start? I had thought about giving my knee a name... “Clarice” popped into my head. Then I wondered if my other knee would feel slighted. I might be forced to give names to all my major body parts, just so nobody feels bad. I’m not sure I could come up with that many names. Some body parts are easier to work with than others. Elbows are great. Ears are also easy to work with. Then there are the toes, which are notoriously picky and tend to be jealous. I could totally see them revolting if not pleased with the names I pick out. Personally, I have always thought toes were revolting. So, the night before my surgery, I will let Clarice wear my birthday tiara. Maybe I’ll take her for a latte. Ok, I always take her with me but this time I will concentrate on making it special for her. It’s hard to look at my knee and know that in a few days it will be cut open and then stapled back together, with a bunch of other unpleasantness in between. My knee has a few battle scars from my childhood, plus a couple from previous arthroscopic surgeries. Compared to what’s in store for it, though, it’s a pretty pristine landscape. After surgery, it will look something like the Frankenstein monster, minus bolts in its neck. I wonder if I’ll wake up in the recovery room to the sound of tiny peasants with pitchforks and torches surrounding my hideous knee. I think I best be taking Clarice out for more than a latte. She might need a nice piece of coffee cake. It’s for her, not me... I’m just along for the ride.