Buying a Knee

Eleven years ago I spent the fall shopping for televisions. I had a tube television whose image was bad. With young children, we felt a television for them was warranted. At the time, Google television was just coming out. Streaming was a new thing. Getting televisions onto one’s home network was the thing. I hadn’t a clue as to how to do all that. It took months of research, shopping, asking questions, and narrowing down things until I pulled the trigger. As far as I know, those televisions are still in use in the house.

More than 20 years ago I had a mole on my chin. It was a large mole. It bothered me. I went to a doctor. She came in and said, “Yup, we’ll take that off.” She pulled out the knife and set to work. I stopped her. I needed more than a minute of the doctor’s time before she took a knife to my face.

Likewise, I used to have tubes inserted into my ears regularly. My doctor got too old to do the work. He had a new colleague. It’s the first time I ever had a doctor I was older than. She too was all ready to get to work when I slowed her down. I needed some comfort in the knowledge she was competent. She was pleasant and seemed to understand. She put me at ease.

Today, in less than an hour, I purchased a knee.

It dawned on me on the way home how cavalier I am in this purchase. I met the surgeon, he reviewed my x-rays, my history, and asked me some questions. Boom! I agreed to let this man cut me, saw off some of my bones, and attach a manmade object inside me.

There was a lot less time and research put into this than the televisions.

Unless I pursue it, the next time I will see the doctor will be ight before I am put out for the surgery. This is insane!

Do I have enough trust in the process and this man specifically not to ask every minute question?

He asked me a question that caught me off guard: Do I have a living will? After I recovered from the shock, I realized that I do.

I’ve changed.

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