Coming along

I went to the office of the surgeon who replaced my knee yesterday. The waiting room looked like the reception area at Lourdes--the pre-miracle one. Walkers, canes, crutches. Mute suffering. Except for me.

I was called in by the nurse, and she seemed surprised that I didn't have a cane or crutches. The doctor, too, couldn't believe it when I rose from my seat and walked out. It was almost like a stunt--like walking on water.

I just don't like using crutches and stuff. I had been warned not to go out without my cane. So I went to Macy's with the damn thing. I felt like an idiot. What do you do with it when you're not walking? How can you simultaneously open your purse, stow your sunglasses, find your reading glasses, put them on, and fiddle with the cane, while trying to determine the price of a sweater?

And when I came out of the store and stood at the curb, all traffic halted while the entire population of northern Delaware waited for me to dodder across the street. I got the feeling that the drivers were willing to wait all day for me to make my way s-l-o-w-l-y out of the path of traffic. I felt like a fraud.

So now I just walk wherever I go. I guess my legs are just too ignorant to know they aren't supposed to work, so they do. Like bumblebees, which theoretically cannot fly. Go figure.