Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Doomsday prepping for my surgery

“Well, I can always buy new knees! I can’t buy a new heart / lungs!”

That is what I would always tell people when they told me I was hurting my knees with running.  A sometimes snarky (okay, most times snarky… sorry mom!!) response to a question the answer to which hinted at my feelings of invincibility.  How could running HURT me if it was so healthy for other parts of my body?! I still don’t have a good answer to that question. But, one thing is for sure - I am certainly struggling with not only the surgery but what the future holds.

I’m essentially what you’d expect a stereotypical mid 30s guy to be like. Devilishly good looks matched only by my sharp wit and obviously my humble demeanor. I enjoy: watching football, scratching my butt, drinking a beer or two, watching football while drinking a beer and scratching my butt, and most importantly avoiding the doctor at all costs. I usually take the approach of “if it doesn’t hurt, then don’t fix it”. Preventative care usually involves a glass of wine a day (It is HEALTHY people, science said so) and a trip to the dentist twice a year (because taking care of teeth as big as mine is akin to making sure the hood of a car stays bug free). So, the string of doctor’s appointments and physical therapy appointments has me on edge.

Of course, that doesn’t even go into the surgery itself. Simply put, I’m not a fan. Not a fan to the point that I’ll likely do some sort of Doomsday Preppers style prep whereby I create a treasure map for all of the money I bury in my back yard and give it to Laura. “Hey sweetheart, here is a treasure map to my life’s savings. You can convert the coffee can of nickels to dollar bills in the lobby of WalMart.

But, much like buffing my teeth every 6 months, it is a necessary evil. I will admit though,  the anxiety of the upcoming surgery is starting to get to me a bit.  Between that and work, I’ve been a joy to be around I’m sure. I’ve been worried about the ‘big’ stuff: will I be able to run again, will my scar be cool, will I die?  You know, the usual stuff.  To mitigate that, I’ve started biking with regularity again and have even started swimming. More on each of those in a future post.  Until then, I’ll be the one gurgling in the lap pool trying to remember where his can of nickels is buried.

Take care of my life savings, Laura!!

5 comments:

Laura said...

I still think you should ask your doctor if there's any possible way for him to go in through your lower back, so that you can get a tramp stamp scar out of the deal.

PS - how come you get all my race medals and all I get is a coffee can of nickels? :(

Gracie said...

Yeah, surgery, that sucks. I prepped by taking one last, long, excruciating run and reminding myself why I needed the surgery!

The Boring Runner said...

Gracie - that thought crossed my mind!!!! I'll for sure go on a bike ride I think. :)

Sue's Ramblings said...

[hugz]

T-Rex Runner said...

This sounds like my husband...he avoids the doctor at ALL COSTS, often to his detriment. To be honest, I've had medical problems and broken 12 (yes, 12 bones) my entire life and had 5 surgeries. I feel the exact opposite way you do about doctors and surgery - those things are my favorite because they make me feel better! I totally understand being afraid of what life will be like after surgery, and there are never any guarantees, but I always choose to picture all the things I'll be able to do after surgery that I can't do now. At least that takes some of the fear away. Good luck!!