Partial knee replacement...

OK. So here it is -- a hard reminder that I am getting older.  It seems that the inside part of my right knee has crapped out and will need some mechanical help.  My golf game was really suffering (although there are some who would tell you that my game has been on a death spiral for a while), and I am barely able to walk 9 holes, let alone walk all 18.  Now don't get me wrong, I don't mind riding in a cart, but it seems that doing it that way hurries my pace, my swing, and I don't get to think about what went right or wrong with the last swing. It just kinda throws me out of sorts (but you know what, when our group goes to away courses like on the "Man Trip," we always use carts and I don't seem to have that problem. Hmmmmm.).  Walking just seems to help me keep an even pace and keep my mind in the game.

So, now it's off to find a good surgeon.  I asked around and came up with a pretty good guy who also was a golfer.  He said that after the surgery I would be back on the course in no time and back on the putting green sinking every shot.  I asked him if he guaranteed his work because I couldn't putt very well before.  Man was I looking forward to getting this done.

So we got the surgery done, and I think I set a land speed record for walking around the surgery center that afternoon.  They said I had to be able to walk around the halls before they would discharge me.  So, after I woke up, it was off to the races.  And then at home, the visiting nurse was certainly impressed by the progress I was making.  One day, when she told me I had to walk around the house with my cane, I picked it up and took off.  I think she wanted me to use the cane, not carry it. But anyway, the therapy went pretty well for an old man who is 40 pounds overweight.  Think I probably ought to work on that sometime.

So now its back to the golf course, and I'm getting my walking legs back so when I go to visit the battle fields of Europe later this year I will be able to enjoy it.

He actually did a pretty good job.  Here it is almost two years later and everything seems to be hanging in there.  But you know what, I think I'm gonna have to check back with him about that guarantee.  Still can't putt very well (although my drives and short game have improved). 

I'm just kidding about all the negative stuff I may have suggested above.  I am extremely thankful for that doctor's skills, for the insurance that paid for it, for the nurses and therapists who got me back on track.  I sometimes forget to count my blessings.  Gotta get better at that.

Don't know if this will be the last time a surgeon has me at his (or her) mercy, but knowing all the things I like to do, and all the people I like to be with, I guess it will be my job to take it, recover and move on.  After all, the alternative isn't very appealing. I've got a lot more 40-footers to sink, and lots more tee shots to hit right down the middle of those lush, manicured fairways.

But at some point in the future if some doctor tells me I have only six months to live, I wouldn't brood. I think I would go out and hit some into the rough and go see what is out there.

Hooah