Now that everything's over, I can come out of denial. Actually, what jolted me out was this picture, (not for the squeamish) taken just before we left for the hospital and which appeared as the background on my startup menu when I powered up upon return (thanks, saintly husband Ron). I had no idea the knee looked like that. It did not look like that from my perspective. I carried this around for eighteen months? Why? Because some pieces of faulty wisdom I learned hold that a bad feeling isn't pain until it absolutely prevents function, that personal comfort is not a priority. As Sister Mary John Chrysostom (and others) used to say, "Offer it up."

So my experience yesterday went as well as could be expected. The "short procedure unit" is a large open area divided into three-sided cubicles which are closed on the fourth side by curtains, which are rarely closed. I arrived as directed at 1:45. By 2:15 I had shed my clothes and was lying on a hospital bed in "Area 12" wrapped only in one of those ridiculous gowns but covered also with heated blankets which were actually quite soothing.

I tried to be very patient with personnel who began every conversation with "How are you today?" The only real unpleasantness occurred when it took two nurses and three attempts at three different sites to insert the smallest IV cannula there is (a 22 gauge, for those who know what that means). Unless you're a professional bloodsucker like the efficient and energetic nurse who extracted three vials of rich red stuff from me last week before I knew she'd begun the procedure, raising a vein can be a challenge for those without wide experience with all kinds of ethnic characteristics and body types.

My veins are narrow and thin, like angel hair spaghetti, and I really resent their being characterized as "bad veins." The condition of my veins is not a moral failing and is not a result of dissolute living or a junk food diet. They're the only veins I have -- I don't have better ones that I left at home. I made this speech in very sharp (okay, strident) tones after I moaned (my coping mechanism) as the needle finally slid (stabbed) into the thin skin of my upper hand and I was informed that it was just a small needle. ("My God, is that a 22?" said the anesthesiologist later. "Well, it's going to take a long time to push all this through and it's going to really burn." Can one do exercises to improve one's vein tone?)

After that there was about an hour and a half of just waiting, during which time various persons garbed in medical gear, maintenance uniforms, or just plain street clothes wandered by, patients were shuttled here and there, and I was able to listen to the ward clerk call the next day's list of patients to give their arrival times and pre-op instructions. "That looks horrible!" said everyone who viewed my leg. Nevertheless, it was painted with a circled R and a directional arrow, although it would have taken a complete ignoramus to operate on the wrong knee.

I came out of the anesthetic quickly and completely to find my leg adorned with an enormous foam wrap held with strips of Velcro tape and two rigid metal bars lashed to it with Velcro straps and encircled all around at the knee with a tight elastic band. The knee is truly immobilized. As the swelling continues to subside I do feel a pull where the stitches are, but the constant stinging searing pain I felt before is gone.

I was home by 7:00. I had some toast and juice, slept for about two hours, and was able to enjoy ER, which was about Dr. Mark Greene's brain surgery. I'm actually sorry I wasn't able to view my own surgery. It would have been, um, interesting to see all that gunk in there flow out like water from a broken dam (or at least that's what I imagine). My concentration is back, my anxiety level is down, and I can't wait for forty-eight hours to pass so I can take a shower. I'm moving with more ease than I did with the leg casts, and looking forward to finally getting a new year under way.

Thanks to all who held me in their good thoughts. No matter what you believe about the power of prayer or good vibrations or positive energy, it can't hurt, and I know it helped.