As My Grandmother Used to Call It, Arthuritis

I had the meniscus removed. Since then, I’ve been able to tell when bad weather is on the horizon.


Very early on Memorial Day I was sleeping alone in our bed; the Wife was sleeping in the guest room with the Daughter, because of the latter’s hacking cough. So when I woke in incredible pain, in my left knee, at least I didn’t disturb anyone else. How to describe the sensation: if you ever were dehydrated and woke up a cramp in your calf, except in the knee, and far more intense pain. I had a difficult time finding a comfortable position in which to sleep; anything involving the straightening of my left leg was contraindicated.

I hobbled to the office and actually wrote three blogposts. I really had nothing better to do; I couldn’t sleep, and I was afraid that if I went downstairs to watch TV, I’d never make it back up to the bedroom. The Wife wakes up, asks me how I am, and I tell her that she needs to take me either to the emergency ward or the urgent care place.
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