Tommy got his knee cut the other day. They took part of the meniscus and some scrapings for the start of arthritis. But the star of the show has been the cane.
It was my grandpa Homer's cane. I have no idea when he got it, but I have seen it used by somebody for nearly 60 years. Then my dad used it. And I used it. Then Tommy.
I had a back spasm, really bad once. It was bad enough that I missed work, and also fell down in the house, and had to crawl to the bedroom. When I was trying to get ready for bed, I couldn't bend over and pull up my pajama bottoms, so I just hooked the trusty cane in the fly and hoisted them.
Haven't had back trouble for many years, fortunately, but when he had the knee surgery, he needed a cane after crutches. Although he really wanted a "pimp cane," he had to settle.
The physical therapy lady was fascinated by the cane and its story. His friends asked about his knee, and then went on to talk about their favorite old cane. Yesterday, he went back to the bone doc. They talked about his knee for 5 minutes and the cane for 15 minutes, the doc evidently has an antique cane and had to tell him about it.
Seems like everybody has their story, and everybody has a story about a cane.
While we are talking about knees and canes, this is a shout out to my cousin Jan who is having knee replacement surgery tomorrow. Jan hopes it goes as well as her first one, and I told her it is going to be better! Make it so.
Hope you have a good cane.
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