My right knee was injured a quarter century ago, and has always been the bad knee. It was the one I favored, wrapped and compensated for.
Until I injured the left knee.
Suddenly the bad knee became the good knee. It was like the poor fellow who sits the bench all year behind a great quarterback that gets injured. He is expected to strap on his helmet and win the game.
Let’s just say the right knee was no Aaron Rogers.
Now the left knee is about to get cut, to repair a torn meniscus (in a case of incredibly bad timing, we go under the knife on Friday the 13th). The doctor works with the Boise State athletes, so I figure I’m in good hands. I was mildly concerned, however, to read the list of things that could go wrong, a list that included death. (I am not sure what else was on the list since I pretty much stopped reading at “death.”)
The doctor said it would be a piece of cake.
I am sure he is right. I’m just hoping he isn’t the one who wrote the list.