Twelve or thirteen years ago, when I was still young (!) and much more active, my knees began to hurt when I walked. Looking back I know that walking was jolly painful but, strangely, I cannot remember what kind of pain it was. (They say the same of childbirth, though I know that I would gladly have had more babies whereas I’m absolutely certain that I don’t want my knees to hurt the way they did back then.)

I do remember that standing still didn’t hurt but moving afterwards was indescribable! Until 2014 I was still selling antique and vintage games and jigsaw puzzles online and often found myself standing at the kitchen island at half past midnight telling myself, “Just one more piece then I must go to bed.” about whichever puzzle I was doing. -.-.-.-.

Almost a year has passed since I started the above post. That’s one thing, of many, that covid-19 has done – made time move in mysterious ways! Time has gone so quickly, and so slowly. The last year and a quarter has passed in a flash but I have had nothing but time and yet I haven’t had time to write or paint or go to the beach. I also, I hasten to add, have not watched daytime tv.

Last Christmas was as unlike Christmas as any in my life. There were no visitors, no tree, no stockings, few decorations, little alcohol, no extra meals with chocolate and satsumas and nuts. We did have a get-together of family – on Zoom – which lasted about half an hour, and another Zoom meeting on Boxing Day with Julian’s brothers, wives and children but Zoom meetings aren’t exactly full of fun and games!

For some reason this strange speedy but trudging passage of time meant that I forgot friends’ birthdays,…….

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And, again, for some reason I did not even finish the sentence I was writing and I don’t know when I wrote the last couple of paragraphs above! I think I’ll get back to my knees.

So, my knees hurt. I went to the doctor who x-rayed me and concluded that I had arthritis in my knees and the only real cure was replacement. If I had been writing this post back in the teens of the 21st century, I would be able to give you an idea of how long it took to get an appointment with an orthopaedic surgeon and then to have knee replacements. Now, I really don’t know how long it was.

I think I first saw the surgeon in January of 2015. I know that I had the right knee replaced in early June that same year and the left knee operated on in the first days of December, 2015. The operations were the same and yet the circumstances were different.

In June, 2015, I was admitted to the Spencer wing of the QEQM hospital early in the morning. I remember that Julian had to work that day and couldn’t take me to the hospital so I had to take a taxi. I wasn’t a private patient but sometimes, I was told, the hospital used the private wing for accommodation. The operation was carried out by the NHS.

I was taken to my room and changed into a gown, then waited for the porter to come and get me, which was probably around noon. I was taken to an ante-room and there I chatted with the anaesthetist who asked various questions. Which knee, any allergies, etc etc. then I was given a spinal block injection and a general anaesthetic, counted down from 10 to about 7 and………….woke up in a recovery ward in what felt like a few minutes. (It was probably longer, though!)

That evening, back in my room, I awoke at some point having to pee. I seem to remember, but I may be wrong, having to walk to the en suite. I know that I wasn’t allowed to have a lot of time recuperating in bed; on the first day after the op I was awoken, had a nice breakfast, and was made to get out of bed. I remember that I had to walk up and down the hallway outside my room using a walking frame. In the afternoon I had a visit from a couple of friends and I think Julian came to visit in the evening.

The next day I was asked to walk up a short flight of stairs and walk down again, aided by crutches. After lunch a doctor visited me and told me I could go home if I could lift my leg up a few inches while lying on my back. It was difficult but I wanted to go home, so I managed it! I must have rung Julian then to ask him to come and get me because he came and got me. Then I came across a real problem! I couldn’t get into the car!

As it was my right leg and I was a passenger in the front seat, I had to get the right leg in first. I sat, facing outward but could not lift my leg and bend my knee enough to manage to turn and get my leg over the sill of the car and inside. I can’t remember who gave me the hint but someone said, use your dressing gown belt. Hold both ends, one in each hand, and slip the loop you’ve made under your right foot, then bend your knee, lift your leg and turn. It worked!Getting out of the car at home was much easier.

I used the crutches for a day or two but was able to give them up quite quickly and just use a walking stick. The NHS had loaned us a special doohickey that surrounded our toilet and made it easier to get up after using the loo, as there were handles of the right height to use to lift myself into a standing position.

Because I have an intolerance to nickel I had to have stitches rather than staples in my scar. A nurse came after a week or so and took the stitches out.

The worst part of the whole thing, aside from having to sleep on my back for a while, was I had to give myself injections in my abdomen for a month so that I didn’t get any blood clots.

After a couple of months, my right knee was completely healed and was almost as good as new!

(One thing I hadn’t realised is, if you have a replacement knee, you can’t kneel on it and, being overweight, I need to kneel in order to get up off the floor. I would still have had my knees replaced, of course, but I do miss kneeling!)

End of part one! The long story of my second knee replacement the following December will follow soon (I hope)

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Note 1 – The cars in Britain are right-hand-drive

Note 2 – QEQM – The Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother hospital.

Note 3 – The Spencer Wing – the private wing of the QEQM

Note 4 – NHS – The National Health Service