Column by Kay Frances
It’s easy to take for granted how miraculous modern medicine is. All of us have either had surgery or are familiar with the concept. Makes you wonder who was the first person to have a surgical procedure done on them.
“What’s going to happen is this. You are going to bite down on this bullet, and I’m going to cut you open with this rusty knife and remove one of your body parts. Cool?”
What could possibly go wrong?
Of course, now we have anesthesia which ensures you just quietly go to sleep. Then, you proceed to babble and tell an entire surgical team your deepest secrets. And, they’ve really cleaned up those knives.
When I had surgery on my knee, the doctor told me he was going to take out about 15% of my cartilage. But being the optimist that I am, I prefer to look at my knee as 85% full rather than 15% empty. Doc assured me that I didn’t “knee-d” that 15%. They said the same thing when they removed my gallbladder. This makes me wonder why I have all this extra stuff in my body that I don’t need and why it’s there in the first place. If they would just go ahead and take out all of the stuff I don’t need, it would be a great way to lose 10 pounds! He did assure me that I have plenty of cartilage left which I would need as a shock absorber. I guess to absorb the shock when the bill came in!
Before the surgery, the doc told me he would “see what else he could find” while he was in there. I told him I had dibs on any loose change or Cheetos that he ran across. The only thing he found was some arthritis and a set of car keys from the old truck that I drove in high school. I always wondered what happened to them.
Once the drugs wore off, it felt like a family of angry jackrabbits had taken up residence under my knee cap. I assumed it was an earring that had long lost its mate. I understand that the doc is busy during surgery and can’t catch everything.
I’m so grateful for the quality of life that I’ve gotten after each surgery that I’ve had. I was fortunate to have my cat to take care of me and run and fetch cool rags. HA! Who am I kidding? She did nothing but write a sternly worded letter to the doctor for impeding the speed of my filling her food bowl.
My suggestion for anyone contemplating a surgery that will improve their lives is to bite the bullet and go for it! And, by “bite the bullet,” I mean go quietly to sleep and reveal where your millions are buried. Don’t worry; they are bound by their oaths to not reveal your secrets. Besides, they have other ways of getting ahold of your millions. It’s called a medical bill.