Now I Lay Me Down
recently had what’s called a revision total knee replacement (arthroplasty). In 2012, I’d had a partial knee replacement on the medial (inside) part of my right knee, which, frankly, had not felt especially “fixed” from the start. Anyway, it recently failed (i.e., it broke apart).
The problem is a combination of injury and arthritis: a passion for intense sport-based exercise and the ravages of aging. The surgery lasted three hours, and the surgeon was very proud of his work. I’ll likely die before this new knee fails, since the assumed lifespan of the implanted metal and plastic parts should last to or beyond my 110th birthday. And, frankly, were it to “fail” before then, I’m not at all certain I’d want to go through the surgical and rehabilitation process again – or that the medical professionals would recommend I do so.
But that’s not what I want to write about, although that experience and recent cancer treatments have forced me to become more focused on two things: preparing for death and becoming a saint.