As might be expected, I’ve been thinking a lot about bones lately.  The ones that make up my left leg in particular, but others too.

The bones that immediately come to my mind, and probably the best known reference is Star Trek’s Dr. Leonard McCoy, who was affectionately called Bones. Bones, of course being short for Sawbones, or what surgeons in the 1800’s did, and albeit in a more scientific and clinical way, what my surgeon will be doing to me tomorrow.

The other bones that come to mind are those of Shakespeare’s Yorick, ‘a fellow of infinite jest’ who, as the King’s jester, bore young Hamlet on his back a thousand times. Hamlet’s memory of Yorick as someone funny, and alive, as he holds his skull aloft, is a personification of the literary theme momento mori, or ‘remember, you’re mortal.’ A feeling I’ve been very familiar with lately.

I’ve begun to think of my poor deteriorating knee as my own Yorick.

“Alas poor knee, I knew you well. A joint of most excellent fancy and hath borne me on it’s back a thousand times.” 

OK, yeah, you get the picture.

I’m scheduled for the first surgery of the day on Monday (tomorrow) morning at 8:40 a.m. This means that yesterday’s dinner of walleye po’boy, truffle fries, and two cucumber vodkas, was my last supper. Or at least the last thing I will eat until Monday afternoon. Today, nothing but water, and holy moly I’m starving!! I’m wasting away! Tomorrow I could be down to skin and … well, bones!

So earlier this week I was facing down the winter weather, and stray germs, worried that I wouldn’t make it to my surgery date. It looks like now, with less than 24 hours to go, I’m going to make it. That is if I don’t starve to death…