My knee surgery was a piece of cake.

Sitting on the couch sipping beer, nibbling on the remnants of pizza, and scribbling in my journal was far more comfy than sitting at desk typing.  However, I’ve committed to one blog post a day for 2012 and given my self permission to be mildly creative (thanks Ken Roberts).

Most of my blog posts begin as words written in my journal.  The essay in Victoria Magazine, the book reviews in First Draft, the essay in PavoMag, my 2 as yet unpublished novels, etc.

They all began life on the pages of the journal that are my constant companion.
I had the meniscus surgery today at noonish and all the dire prognostications of pain and wooziness were for naught.

All I can say is Dr. Dewey Jones, III, his nurse Ann and all the folks at Brookwood rock; they  listen to the patient.  I didn’t want to be pumped with morphine or any narcotic in anticipation of pain.  Doc said fine, I’ll give you a local when I’m through to keep the edge off and you can take the pain meds we prescribed as needed. So, when I came out of the anesthetic, I was fine.  Within 30 minutes, I wasn’t woozy or unstable; walked to the 'loo' unassisted.


Special thanks to Ree Bolton who drove me there, waited and drove me home.  On the way to the apartment, we picked up a veggie pizza at Hungry Howie’s.  Coupled with the 6 pack of dos Equis from Wilson’s Market I'd picked up earlier we had a satisfying lunch.

Those 40 odd steps to my front door that I was dreading, were a painless piece of cake.  We sat on the couch ate pizza, sipped a few, me with leg propped up and an ice pack perched on my knee.

It’s going on 10 now, and no pain.  I ate two more pieces of pizza for a late supper, and I’m on about beer six.  Once I post this, it’ll be time for the ice pack again, while I crack open Vanity Fair (nothing like a little mind candy when you have to sit still).

Anybody know of a worthy cause in need of a pair of brand new unused crutches, let me know.

Well, the couch is calling.   Later.