Surgery, that is. Saw my ortho today for the latest check up. I waited in his waiting room for 40 minutes. First time I wasn’t just whisked inside. I waited in an exam room for quite some time too. He spent about four minutes with me. Checked my range of motion, heard my complaints and said everything was coming along just as it should. Even my complaints are normal.
We took an X-ray.
New hotness:
That’s the finest titanium from Germany. Hopefully the screws are of equal craftsmanship. There’s no need to have six screws loose.
I wrote, a while back, about Fabian Cancellara:
This is what I don’t understand: Professional cyclist Fabian Cancellara broke his collarbone at the beginning of April. He fell in a race in a bad way. He had a quadruple fracture. I’ve seen the X-ray, it was bad. And yet, just two months later, he won the prologue of the Tour de France and held the lead for days. I’m not making a comparison, because that’s just foolish. Cancellara is a terrific cyclist and a hard man, but how did he do that?
I asked the surgeon about that.
“Hey, doc, clearly this guy is a superior athlete. I’m not what he is, but how did he do that?”
“Training, therapy, incentive.”
“I know that’s his livelihood,” I said “but how did he endure that?”
“That’s not your livelihood is it?”
“No.”
“Then don’t worry about it.”
I’ll just console myself that he spent more time lying on the ground than I did. They put him on a gurney. I walked off.
