I’m talking body parts.
I was watching “American Ninja Warrior” the other night and I can’t help but wonder how many parts the participants will eventually have to get replaced because of the abuse they take, even in the name of good health. First of all, how do they not leave that insane obstacle course in a full body cast? And am I the only one cringing or tilting (like that’s going to help them balance) or yelling “Noooo” when a contestant slams into a barrier or falls into the water? You have to wonder how many waivers contestants sign prior to risking severe injury just to press a giant red button and let out a primal scream.
We have never, ever been ninja worthy. I get winded walking through Ikea. But the show somehow made me think about how our conversations have shifted over the years from kids and carpools to joint replacements and bone spurs. Seems like every few weeks we’re hearing about a friend or relative facing some type of procedure to remove, replace or reconnect something.
Before undergoing most types of surgery, people tend to ask around to see if they have the “right” doctor. Two friends of ours recently had major surgery within a couple of weeks of each other. When they were asked which doctors would be performing the delicate procedure, both names got high reviews from hospital staff and others who had similar surgeries. Good thing, right? Seriously now, what if you mention a doctor’s name just days before they’re going to open you up like a Christmas present and someone says, “Oh….” and looks down at the ground? Do you ask the surgeon for three personal and business references just before the anesthesia takes you out? Do you suddenly have an appointment in another country? Do you look for another doctor and wait to have that pesky heart surgery for another three months?
In the past, I’ve had two hip replacements – both on the same side. It was just so much fun the first time that I decided to repeat the process. Fine, not really. The first replacement was by a surgeon who replaces hips along with doing other doctor stuff. The second surgery was done by The Hip Guy. You know, one of those surgeons everyone recommends for this particular thing … the one I should have gone to in the first place but he was booked too many months ahead for me to deal with the pain. He still ended up having the final word – or is it scalpel – on my hip. As a side note, I like to tease the surgeon that my hip loss is probably funding his new SUV. I recommend you save that joke until that after the surgery.
Rumor has it (and my orthopedic doctor told me so) that my kneecaps are aching – literally – to be replaced. Kneecaps, not knees. Who even knew that could happen? Apparently, the orthopedic surgeon did. We’ve seen each other so often I feel like I should add him to the mailing list for my annual family letter, which I’ve been meaning to start since 1990.
There seems to be no end to the wearing down of our parts even when we take exceptional care of them. My petite, adorable, sickeningly perfect sister eats right and exercises, and yet her rotator cuffs rebelled. Obviously, you can work out too much. That’s my reasoning anyway.
Spouse and I consider our mid-life selves lucky for each year without some type of medical issue. We’d like to keep the parts we have for now. He has been warned, however, that I’m still aiming for a new lawnmower.
— Janine Talbot is adjusting to her empty nest in southern Maine with her spouse of 32 years and two and a half cats. She can be reached at janinevtalbot@gmail.com.
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