Bad Knees Blog - take 13

Tuesday was one of those days when you feel sick, sore, and ornery. That was me. We had considered taking a drive around Pittsburgh, maybe even stopping in at Lidia's Restaurant for lunch. Instead, I lay in bed, my knee swollen like bratwurst on a hot grill, reading the paper, watching TV and, finally, sleeping. When I had to get up and move, I was on crutches. One good thing about being stuck in front of standard cable TV is that it reminded us of why we've never had cable and, based on what it offers, never will.

We watched coverage of the attacks in Brussels, experts from all sides putting in their two cents. Important stuff, but it was good to get a break with the ball game between the Cuban National Team and the Tampa Bay Rays. I like baseball, and I think it's time we found another approach for Cuba, so it was a bit of fun on a sad day in the world. I'm also not a smoker, but when the first legal Cubanos hit the stores, I'm going to light up in honor of this moment of rationality. By then I'll also be off of my restrictive diet, so I'll accompany that stogie with a nice bourbon.

Cindy had a chance to get to Ikea, always a winner, and to drive around a little, so at least she wasn't trapped with me in the hotel.

By the end of the day I was feeling pretty good. We ate, read a little, and hit the sack.

Wednesday morning, still on my flashy aluminum crutches, we ate the hotel's mediocre free continental breakfast (that would be the continent of Blandasia) and headed back to the clinic for an early morning blood letting. Done with that, we went back to the hotel and packed then returned for the final poke session. My platelets super fortified were returned to me, I payed the significantly large bill, got my prescription for the next month, and we were off.

That was it. No fanfare. No hugs and kisses. We were headed back to Buffalo a little lighter in the wallet, a good deal sorer, and feeling a mixture of anxiety and hope over this experience. It wasn't over by a long shot. I'd have weeks of therapy, more visits to Pittsburgh, a daily course of supplements that strain my cynical mind, and the usual ups and downs of life.

I'll keep blogging about this and other things over the next few months. I hope to report wonderful results, but either way, I'll let you know how my knee progresses.

It's Easter morning and, although I'm no longer religious, I'm okay with the idea of rebirth and rejuvenation, and for this moment, I'll take that as a good sign.