So, I go to the doctor's office on Friday because my knees sound like a rice crispy bomb going off whenever I change elevation. I've always had bad knees and I finally was convinced to go see someone (this was after the attempt to self medicate with glucosamine, etc.)

The doctor took four x-rays in the office and talked to me for about five minutes. The conversation went something like, "Holy crap, you have really bad knees. Which one hurts the worst? The left one? Ok, we'll scope you on Monday." Do not pass go and by the way, I have to tell my Battalion Chief that I'm going to be out for two to four weeks starting....now.

Now its Monday and I am freaking out because I've never had a surgical procedure and I know that they are going to intubate my sorry butt. Yes, I realise that these are highly trained professionals. But, I am a control freak and if someone else is breathing for me, I AM NOT IN CONTROL. Can't help it, really I can't. So, I haven't had anything since midnight the previous night. And what do they want right away...a urine sample. WTF? Somehow, I convinced my bladder to produce at least enough urine to prove that I AM NOT preggers (despite my assurances that there is no way that I am, but whatever.) Everyone was really nice, so that did make it easier. The nurse even numbed my hand up with a bit of lidocaine before she started the IV- yes, in my hand. I'm cursed with amazingly HUGE, STRAIGHT veins in both hands. So, I'm waiting for the procedure to start and getting yelled at for holding my breath so that the SaO2 alarm goes off (hee hee). I can see the clock and I'm getting nervous again, right until the doctor says that he can fix that. He slammed (and I do mean slammed) Versed into my IV and all I remember is waking up an hour later talking about writing an article about knee surgery. At least I wasn't giggling.

So, today I've been hobbling about on crutches and I AM BORED. The best part is that I get to do all of this again when they do the right knee.

Just a point of interest...crutches and four cats are not the best combination. Now, I love my kitties, really they are my little buddies. However, each of them have 'shown their love' by rubbing against my bandaged leg or by wrapping themselves around my crutches when I'm trying to walk. I swear I can hear them laughing whenever I cripple my way past them. Thats it, no more tuna for them!!