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I’m nearly 3 weeks out from knee surgery.  About at the point where my limp should start to be less noticeable.  Instead, I’m back on crutches because I can’t put any weight on my knee, which is swollen so that there is no discernible kneecap whatsoever.  My knee has actually eaten the kneecap.  I’ve been running a fever for the last few days, can’t sleep, and actually got stuck in the kitchen in the middle of the night last night looking for the elusive Ibuprofin.  I was transfixed by pain, tears running down my face, wishing the Oreos were within reaching distance.

Instead of on the shelf at the grocery store.

A pitiful state of affairs.

Oh, and this is fun.  Evidently I have issues with Tylenol with Codeine, as just taking ONE will make me vomit the 3 Cheerios I was able to down.  And will also make me loathe coffee.  My one and only respite in this dark and brooding storm.

I dialed my doctor’s answering service this afternoon, fully prepared to make an appointment for the amputation.

The answering service, sensing my angst (perhaps the heaving sobs were the giveaway), put the doctor right on the phone.  I described my symptoms.  He said that he needed to see me first thing on Monday morning because, and I quote, “Not to ruin your Sunday, but it sounds like we’re going to have to drain your knee.”

Drain my knee.

That involves a needle the size used to kill an elephant, doesn’t it?

Why yes, yes it does.

I don’t suppose I can be rendered unconscious?

Negative on that.

The only thing that has me holding out hope, is that I won’t feel like gnawing off my own leg afterward.  Allegedly.

Fiddledaddy will be monitoring the offspring in the waiting room while I undergo this tragic draining.  He is trying to talk me into filming it, or at the very least, taking pictures with my iPhone.  You know, for my blog.  I, however, think that it will be hard to hold the camera still while I’M SCREAMING FOR JESUS TO TAKE ME HOME. NOW!

Emme has graciously volunteered to accompany me through the procedure and hold my hand.  If you’ll recall, Emme is the same child that paled and slid down the wall as I attempted to explain menstruation to her.

I think it would be best if I brave this alone.

I’ll keep y’all posted.  Pictures may or may not follow the inevitable story to follow.

If you hear on the news that there is a seismic disturbance emanating from Alligator Alley, Florida don’t be alarmed, it’s just me.  Having my knee drained.  Knee and drain.  Two words that should never ever enter in to the same sentence.

The end.

21 Responses to Setbacks

  • I’ll be praying for you. Elephant killing needles are scary. And I completely agree, the words knee and drain should never be used together.

  • I am so sorry you are having so much pain. I will say a prayer for you that the procedure goes quickly and painlessly. I really enjoy your blog. Take good care of yourself.

  • Somehow, my wheelchair is starting to look real good about now.

    I am beginning to seriously consider the fact that the local amphibians got together and did a voodoo ceremony with you as the guest star.

    Jut sayin’, dear sweet hobbled sister.

    (You know in any case, I am praying for you and loving on you).

  • Oh no! I’m so sorry! OUCH!

    I’m a lurker but am de-lurking to say I’ve been following your knee saga with much sympathy. I dislocated my knee last summer – never knew that a knee could bend that direction – which required surgery to fix. I needed a new ACL and also a meniscus repair so your surgery details were very familiar. (sorry for smiling at your pain) 5 months after my first surgery I had to have a second surgery to “remove hardware” that was “working it’s way out” of my knee.

    I’ll be praying that tomorrow goes smoothly and brings speedy and welcome relief to you.

    Hang in there!

  • Oh Emme – you’re a girl after my own heart as I too pass out cold.

    So sorry. Sending you oreo covered thoughts. Matter of fact, I think that is part of the healing process.

  • Oh, DeeDee! Will be praying for you! I know you will be so brave and get through this with no sweat. Or at least very little!!

  • Is there a place to stop for Girl Scout cookies on the way? At least a box or two. (or a case?)

    Will be praying for you!

  • I’m so sorry you’re having to go through all of this. Try not to dwell on the whole “knee + drain” thing, and focus on how much better it would feel to relieve the pressure & swelling.

  • So sorry to hear this, DeeDee. I’m cringing in sympathy right not. 🙁 I’ll be praying it goes as smoothly as possible and that you’ll be able to keep your eyes closed the entire time. 🙂

  • Oh no, I’m so sorry. 🙁 (Thinking the fever may mean you’ll also wind up with antibiotics, after the procedure-that-shall-not-be-named.) I empathize, as I had an incredibly large needle jammed into my wrist bone to deliver lidocain or novocain before they put my dislocated wrist in traction to reset it. Fun times. Just don’t watch! And ESPECIALLY if you already have your iphone with you – load it up with some music appropriate for alleviating stress and listen to music during the procedure to distract yourself. And focus on the part about it alleviating the pain once it’s over with! Good luck!

  • I’m so sorry!! Hang in there.



  • When I was pregnant with my 1st kid we found out my blood doesn’t mesh well with my husbands. That meant extra needles (RH factor thingie). I had even more with my 3rd pregnancy as I lost a twin at nearly 6 months. I’m terrified of needles. I’ve bailed on several procedures and even a surgery once (was being prepped to be taken to OR) all over needles.

    BUT, I didn’t have a problem with them when I was pregnant. I mean, I did, but I had to will myself to focus on the end result, in my case, it being good for the baby. With you, the decrease in fluid will decrease the swelling and should cut most of that extra pain out.

    Grab some oreo’s on the way and tell yourself it won’t be long ’til you’ll be hunting a cookie instead of a motrin. (And feel free to smack me if you’d like. Easier to give advice than take it. ) Feel better soon.

  • So sorry! I have had knee troubles since childhood and have had a knee drain. I don’t remember it being bad at all. Just turn your head and don’t look at the needle.
    I will be praying for you. May God grant you extra measures of grace for this yucky procedure.

  • Praying for you.

  • Best of luck!

  • Well, it is lunch time, so hopefully your procedure has already taken place. I just read your blog entry….I am praying that you make it home safely and that this resolves the knee issue. I am amazed at your ability to communicate humor during all of this. That is not a gift I have!

  • Praying that things went well today and that you are feeling better.

  • I hope this solves it, DeeDee! They really do use a big needle. . . . . but they numb the area first. Just go to your happy place and close your eyes!

  • Oh my goodness! I will be listening for the screaming and praying…

    Hope you are feeling better soon. In the meantime, milk it for all its worth when you get home!

  • Oh, Dee, I’m so sorry for your pain. But hopefully, since this comment is late, you are currently sleeping soundly in your bed at home with a skinny, painless, knee-capped knee.

  • Glad you are doing better! We had a 3.3 earthquake here this morning and I thought maybe it was you jumping up and down for joy because you were healed! (Just kidding!)

    We have a diner here called the Hot Rod diner and they make a delicious Deep Fried Oreo Cookie Sundae Dessert. The cookies are dipped in cake batter and deep fried, served with vanilla ice cream, warm chocolate sauce, whipped cream, and crushed Oreos on top! 🙂