Twelve years ago, I had my right knee replaced. It’s fine now, but the recovery was so painful that I decided I would never go through it again. A dozen years later, the pain in my left knee changed my mind and on Friday, December 20th, a wonderful surgeon (about fourteen years old) replaced it. I know I will be glad—eventually.
Peter took care of me the last time, but now he has his own mobility challenges so Seth stepped in, and he was amazing. He took me to the hospital at 5:00 a.m. He brought Peter to visit me. He brought me home. He cooked and did the dishes. In exchange. I did a couple of small sewing tasks for him.
(I got the better deal.)
However, no child is perfect. He did not know that our ice cream scoop should not go into the dishwasher, and it was unrecognizable when I got home. My car has a couple of new scratches on it due to a minor encounter with a post in the hospital parking lot.
But our household now has two walkers, a pair of crutches, lots of candy, one new knee and two lucky parents.