Not Dead: Vote !

I know how unusual it is for me to not blog, tweet, post or email, having been practically surgically attached to my computer ever since microcomputers were invented. Before that I programmed with punched cards (yes, I did) and then "dumb terminals" that we used to think were the greatest thing since sliced bread. No, I don't remember when sliced bread was invented.

So, speaking of surgically attached, I am having surgery tomorrow to replace my knee. They are going to cut off the ends of my tibia and femur and replace it with Titanium. I just looked at some photos of a surgery. It is pretty gross.

Everything I have read says that running and contact sports are absolutely to be avoided after the surgery, which is making me mad because the only reason I am doing this is because the doctor said I would be able to run again. And NO ONE SAID ANYTHING ABOUT NOT DOING JUDO !! I used to have to run to cut weight for judo. One day, right after Title IX had passed, the newly-hired track coach saw me running on the track and recruited me to run the mile on the new women's track team.

(For you youngsters, Title IX was a landmark legislation in the U.S. that forced universities to give female athletes equal opportunity to participate in athletics. Right after it passed, a whole bunch of opportunities opened up, which was great for me.)

After college, I kept competing in judo and kept running. Occasionally, I would compete in 10 K races. I wasn't amazingly fast but I was one of the faster of the women who worked in offices who entered the same kind of races, and I was super-competitive so I won the odd medal now and then. After I quit competing, I'd still run during the day, especially when I was telecommuting or on travel in North Dakota in the summer. It's very relaxing to run on the trails through the woods, or along the beach. I got some of my best ideas that way.

Unfortunately, between all that running and a few judo tournaments and training against doctor's advice, my knee pretty much has disintegrated. (That time I was back on the mat training for the world trials six days after surgery. Yeah, that wasn't too smart. Hurt like a #$%, too.) Competing in the world trials three weeks after surgery was probably not high on the brilliance scale, either.

Well, you make your choices and you pay the price. So, I will be in the hospital the next few days and not on the Internet too much. All of the websites I have read give me a far worse prognosis, say I will be unable to drive far longer and be able to do far less after surgery than my doctor had said. On the other hand, as several people have pointed out, most people who have this surgery done are much older than me.

Just because I am not nagging you about it does not mean:

A. I am dead, or
B. I want any less for you to vote in the USJA election ( www.newusja.us )

I will just be too drugged up to talk about it. Now that I think of it, I wonder if Ronda bribed the doctor just so she would not have to hear about the election for a few days.

I have received an outpouring of sympathy from my friends and family - not!

Lanny Clark called and said,
"I hope you don't kick off on the operating table."

My husband was a bit miffed he brought it up (do men get miffed?) until my daughter Jenn said,
"Well, if you DO die and Dennis dies of a heart attack from the shock, I will still get to live here, right? And you'll leave me SOME money so I can pay the bills until I graduate and get a job?"

Maria, equally concerned, added,
"You better leave something in writing that says I get all the money to care for Julia because I can just see Jenn saying, 'Oh, I remember Mom saying you were supposed to care for Julia, all right, but she said I should get all the money because Maria and Eric both have jobs already.'"

Ronda didn't say anything. Actually, the last time I talked to her was after an unfortunate Margarita episode that involved the church,me, a few octogenarians and a designated driver. The less said about that incident, the better.

So, take-away messages:
1. I am not dead.

2. Vote for our slate for the USJA board. You only have until September 30th to mail your ballot you slacker!

3. Stay away from people older than your grandmother bearing Margaritas.