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His knee, that I affectionately refer to as FrankenKnee ...

Issue Date: Tuesday, Aug. 08, 2006

self: Hi, last entry.
last entry: Hi.
self: Are you a little embarrassed?
last entry: [sheepishly] yes.
self: May I change your name to “brick”?
last entry: If you must. I thought I was funny.
self: Apparently not, I would say it was more along the lines of uncomfortable and crass.
last entry: Really?
self: Really.
last entry: I can do better.
self: No, I am sorry… you are dead to me.
last entry: [sniff]

So, yeah. About that ya’ll. Let’s just pretend that the last entry never happened.

Let me tell ya’ll about what has been going on. For those of you who are new to the site and haven’t rifled through the archives to learn morsels about me, I am married to a retired Marine. We call him Mister.

When Mister was a young man he tore up his knee during the time of his enlistment. Is enlistment the right word? Anyway, he tore up his knee… his left knee. They scoped it a couple of times to see what the damage was and it was this: I may totally be jacking this story up but, long story short… he tore the ligament away from the bone. The ligament didn’t tear… he actually tore the ligament, the ACL, (and a piece of bone) away from the lower leg bone… tibia right?

They did a major surgery on his left leg, inserted three screws into his knee and then started him on physical therapy. The physical therapy guy… on the first day of PT for Mister gave him 3rd degree burns on his knee with a hot pack. Mister’s knee was still numb from the surgery and he felt heat and discomfort and let the PT guy know. The PT guy lifted the hot pack, fanned Mister’s leg and said, “Well, you just have two minutes left, we’ll just put it back on there.”

The PT had to stop because the blister on his skin (knee) had to form, slough off (gross) and then they had to do a skin graft from Mister’s groin region to replace the skin that was burned off by whom I would say is the most incompetent physical therapist in the world.

After the burn healed they had to scope his knee again and remove scar tissue that built up during the whole burning the top of his knee-skin issue.

Suffice it to say, he was medically retired from the Marines… with honors.

That was about twenty years ago. His knee, that I affectionately refer to as FrankenKnee still gives him trouble. The cartilage inside is all jacked up and he normally stands mostly on his right leg to take some weight off of his bad knee.

That is why he was so freaked out when back on July the 17 at like 5:45 a.m. he was bending down to get his luggage to get on a plane for Memphis and his right knee audibly made a popping/cracking sound and Mister almost passed out from the immediate pain. Ya’ll… he saw stars.

He regained his composure, limped to his gate, went to Memphis, met with his Sales team, went on to somewhere in Indiana and did a presentation.

Hello, did I mention that he is tough?

That evening he went to an emergency care place, they gave him a brace and some medication for swelling and pain.

Ya’ll? I was in San Antonio*.

He? Was in Indi-fucking-ana.

And, he was hurt.

(And Galen was staying with Stacey and giving her hell. Gah, sorry Stacey!)

So to condense what has happened in the last few weeks it goes like this:
1) Mister tears up his good knee.
2) Mister does an amazing presentation in INDIANA and comes back Tuesday afternoon.
3) Mister goes to a doctor (orthopedic specialist) on Wednesday the 19th.
4) Doctor orders X-Rays and MRIs and concludes that Mister tore his meniscus (that cartilage crap between the bones of the leg beneath the knee cap thingy).
5) Mister calls his boss to let him know what was going on later that afternoon.
6) Mister’s work forces him into workman’s comp and to file FMLA papers.
7) Awesome orthopedic-specialist-surgeon-type-man will not work on workman’s comp cases.
8) Fuck.
9) Mister has to start from square one to find an orthopedic doctor/surgeon that will work with workman’s comp cases.
10) Mister does not get to see anyone until the following Monday.
11) Over the weekend Mister, who has not had one call from his boss takes the time one Saturday evening (because he can not sleep… hurty knee) at like 2 a.m. and sends out a few résumés.
12) Awesome Orthopedic Surgeon Guy that DOES take workman’s comp cases is found and is wonderful. He sees Mister on Monday July 31st and schedules Mister for surgery to repair his meniscus and other damage on August 3rd.
13) After doctor’s appointment on Monday the 31st Mister is asked to interview with a company who loves his résumé.
14) New Company calls him back on Wednesday the 2nd and ask him to come meet the CFO.
15) CFO and new company love him… it is hearts and flowers… and money… and an awesome benefits package.
16) Mister has yet to receive one phone call or email from his boss. Current employer (Whom I like to call SATAN) turned off his phone, his email access and basically ostracized him to Siberia. “But it is for your own good, you need to focus on getting better.” This from the HR person. Oh… bullshit.
17) Surgery.
18) Surgery went well.
19) Emails from company he interviewed with wishing him well and telling him he is awesome, that they will send butterflies, kittens and rainbows but to make sure and feel better soon. That they totally love him is implied. That they may want to have his babies can be read between the lines.
20) Nothing from present boss or company… ever… till this day. (Can ya’ll tell that this lack of consideration pisses me off to no end?)
21) Ya’ll like lists right?
22) Follow up appointment with surgeon goes well on Friday.
23) Weekend spent napping, watching movies (by the way… Brazil… WTF?) being bitten by a small, three pound badger that looks suspiciously like a puppy, cooking doing laundry and caring for Mister.
24) Monday… Mister gets a call from the HR lady at the company he interviewed with, “We… we love you man.” And they offered him a job. A great job. He accepted and immediately got a welcome email from the CFO who was all, “We wanted to offer you the job on Friday… but with 24 hours after your surgery and the threat of anesthesia still in your system… ha ha ha!” And then they made out… figuratively speaking, of course.
25) Yesterday during lunch, I went home, picked up Mister’s resignation letters for his current company and hand delivered them.
26) Still nothing from his boss.
27) Gah.
28) But YAY! New and improved knee and a new job!

And I think that is all.

Oh, and happy hour tonight with my girls at Sherlock’s. Lord, I am so ready for a drink.

*In San Antonio our contact at the hotel was all, “Ladies, we would like to give you a 30 minute massage, on the house… is 5:00 p.m. a good time for you?” My coworker and I jumped at the chance. My coworker was rubbed down by a large mean looking lesbian whose name was Susan. I… on the other hand was rubbed down by creepy breathing guy who freaked me out so bad that I pulled something in my side from trying not to flee from the table. Apparently Susan rocked at the whole massage thing and my coworker almost fell asleep. I? Am still fighting the lingering muscle spasms on my left ribcage.
Booo creepy breathing massage guy!


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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

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