A picture paints a thousand et ceteras

I went back to the surgeon yesterday to have my stitches taken out. He's pretty pleased with the way I'm healing - although there was one awkward moment. I asked him if I could have some more painkillers, and started to explain that I wouldn't abuse them, would only take them if necessary, etc. He was already reaching for the prescription pad, and looked up, startled.

'It's not a pain competition! If you need pain relief, you should have it,' he said - at which point I nearly burst into tears. I'm so used to begging for them that I guess I just hadn't considered the idea that maybe it was not normal or acceptable behaviour from a GP.

He also showed me some 'snapshots' from the camera that had been inside my knee. Suddenly, everything got a lot clearer - and not in a good way.

( cut for length and potential gruesomeness )

'Horrified' is a good word to describe my reaction. The phrase, 'Holy crap I'm never going to walk again without seeing those pictures in my head', is another.

And that's just my left knee. Goodness only knows what things are like inside my right one.

The surgeon did what he could, but he can't work miracles. This whole course of treatment is aimed at one thing only - keeping me as mobile and pain-free as possible until such time as (a) my health insurance kicks in and (b) knee replacements can't be delayed any longer.

Sigh. Gotta be grateful for what I can get, I suppose ... and at least I have a surgeon who is a decent human being - and who treats me like one.