Dreaming From the Knee, Part 2

This is the second of a series of posts about the dreams I've been having since I've been taking painkillers.

I've been pretty firm about the intervals at which I take them and I also AM NOT DRIVING. I am cogent[as cogent as YOU'LL ever be-Ed.] and I am not seeing things during my waking hours, but it is giving me...interesting nights.

Before I went to sleep, my Niece asked me if I liked her new hairstyle. It was done back in braids, and I gave her a thumbs-up.

Here is the issue: while she did indeed go to the hairdresser, she did not ask me my opinion of her hair, which also is not braided, so that whole incident NEVER HAPPENED.

This isn't the first time this has happened. I've been a bit on the shall we say, vulnerable side, reality-wise, so this didn't stop her from having a bit of fun at my expense. Before she left the house, one day,  I asked that she clean up some empty water bottles. She agreed to this, but must have noticed something in my diction, because she then asked, "Do you want me to throw out the grandfather clock, too?", to which I groggily assented.

I don't remember saying that.  Darn that woman!

What I can recall of the dream I had this morning, I came home from work to the house we used to own in Stone Mountain and several people are having a cookout on my property. I don't know any of them and look at me as if it is their right to cook barbecue on my land, in the FRONT YARD. I politely ask them to stop and the fellow who seems to be the head griller actually breaks down in tears because of this.

That's all I can remember. If there is a part three, I'll post it here.

Dreaming From the Knee

I've done my knee replacement, which means that I am also taking painkillers. What this means, apparently, is that when I doze off, I have odd dreams.  Here is one of them.

I'm riding in a cab with another Black man. Some smooth Jazz finishes playing and the DJ says that the song we heard featured the saxophone of John Clarence [it's a dream, there is no such player, to my knowledge-Ed.]. The DJ then says something about lonely women on Saturday, which cracks up my cabmate and I laugh the communal laugh that shows that I am one of the guys, not necessarily that I thought that the joke was funny.

The traffic in New York City is horrible, so instead of waiting for traffic to let up, I decide to get out and ride my bicycle across the Triboro Bridge. I climb a long, green plastic ladder, with the bike on my back [hoo-BOY, is this a dream-Ed.], so I can then get on my bike and ride across the bridge. What I find is green plastic track, fit more for a toy train than a car and some sort of machine that looks like a one-armed bandit with pictures of the Kinks on it. The music coming from it is Dave Davies' "Death of a Clown" and to the tempo of the music another part of the bandit reads, "Death of a Clown", "Width of a Clown", "Weight of a Clown"...

I try to get onto the bridge, but what I to hold on to feels like empty luggage or empty typewriter cases. In any case, none of these objects are particularly stable. I grab onto one, start to fall backwards, I start to fall off the bridge and...

I woke up.

I didn't say it would make sense, I just said it was a dream I had.

"The Knee Plays" (without having to listen to Philip Glass)

Over twenty years ago, I damaged by ACL in my left knee. My overnight stay was pockmarked by OJ Simpson coverage so the choices I had during my first overnight stay in the hospital were breaking news and an old movie.

The movie was "War and Peace". YOU try coming in on the middle of that thing and try to make sense of it.

The doctor warned me that arthritis could be a real possibility in the future and has been affecting my gait, so this week, I've had a knee replacement. Since none of my so-called "friends" would not donate theirs, I decided to have an artificial one put in. The police are apparently happy that I no longer...I mean, NEVER..heh, heh, rob people's knees.

Flippancy aside, the surgery went well, the doctor and the hospital were top-notch and I am able to rest comfortably. Rehab is a bear, but I expected that after having to do similar work when I had ligament surgery.

Kudos (there is no such thing as a KUDO, dog-bite it!) to:

1. My family, in particular my Good Lady Wife Rhonda. If everyone had a partner like her, the world would be a happier place, although I seen't her first and y'all better...I mean, thank you, Sweetheart.

2. My workmates have been very supportive in allowing me time off to recover. Such consideration and caring is a top-down affair, so thanks to Jon VanderMeer for being a great and supportive boss.

Had it not been for him, I would not have met the amazing Kody Duhon. Years ago, I weighed 254 pounds and was on my way to diabetes. Duhon and the Jungle Fitness Atlanta crew took time to help me lose weight which afforded me a better experience for this knee replacement. I don't think, I KNOW that if I hadn't been under their care, things would not be as good as they are now, concerning rehab.

http://www.junglefitatlanta.com/ (there is a testimonial there from you-know-who and I can vouch for its accuracy).

3. The team at Piedmont Hospital. If anyone is contemplating this surgery in the Atlanta area, PM me and I will gladly share the names of the folks at Peachtree Orthopedics.

4. I don't give kudos to the Lord (Waytago, God-baby!), I THANK the Lord. I remember the pain of my first surgery and recovery and there is pain, but a great deal less than the first time.

5. I'm getting around with a cane, so I've got that Everett Sloane in "The Lady from Shanghai"-thang going on, but I'm getting better (Sloane's about two minutes in). It's a good movie all the way around, but this sequence is a classic.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wuMqI5AI6hs

Thanks, everyone. Sorry to go on for so long.