Don't Call Us, We'll Call You: This Has Been Going on Too Long For Me to Come Up With Interesting Post Titles

It's a few weeks into SurgeonWatch2009 and you all will be shocked (not really) to learn that Dr. ___ did not call. He did, however, have his secretary call again. And, here, the secretary's ninja skills really become apparent. Though my mom was home at the time, the phone did not ring. The voice mail appeared as if some invisible carrier pigeon slipped through the window and dropped it into the phone. Homegirl is good. Anyhow, the secretary didn't have much to report: she thought that Dr. ___ had already called me, but since he hadn't she would put some pressure on him to do so. Obviously, her ninja karate-chopping/ intimidation skills are still under construction because Dr. ___ didn't feel inclined to pick up the phone. Still, you've got to hand it to the secretary for at least calling me back (kinda).

Where was I when the phone message was being delivered magically into our voice-mail inbox as if by tiny phone elves? At physio. What was I doing there? Getting a This-Is-How-You-Recover Seminar courtesy of a physiotherapy repeat customer. When I first started at physio, there was a round little man with a well-groomed moustache who'd had a knee replacement at nearly the same time that I had my hip replacement. About a month after we both started physio, moustache-man graduated and waltzed on out of there swaggering like a rock star, while I stayed behind bruising my ass on the exercise bike and trying for the 3586th time to unsuccessfully do one single clamshell exercise.

Today, I was doing my daily trampoline exercise (don't ask) when who walks in but moustache man! Turns out, he's recently had his second knee replacement. And, yes, he's only three weeks post-surgery and is already walking better than I am. Have you ever played Mario Kart and you run one too many times off the bridge in Bowser's Castle and end up sizzling your ass in lava and wasting precious seconds being fished out by that little cloud guy? And you see some other go-kart smoking up behind you and think, "Damned if I'm going to come in last place," so you unleash the fury of your red shell only to realize that your rival Mario-karter was actually lapping you? Yeah, that's the feeling I had at physio. I was lapped by someone with a finely trimmed moustached.

What's that shaking sound I hear? Oh, that's just the shaker from all the salt that's been poured into my wounds.