Limping down the path of unwanted adventures

The Examiner

Meanwhile, back in the Dicky Knee department ... pssst – I’ll give you a hint. I still have one, and I must say it does seem a day too much. Physical therapy is helpful – and I do feel better after each visit, but no matter how diligent I am at my exercises, I still end up back with a tendon which I think is being strangled by my tibia and femur, with the patella chiming in from time to time. Getting old isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

You know, if you can spray insulation into the walls of a house, why can’t they come up with a spray of cartilage into a recalcitrant knee? A quick shot of WD-40 would do the trick too.

I can give you a small word of advice. If you have a Dicky Knee, it’s probably not the most intelligent thing to decide to discover the wonders of a new grocery store. Being the good Virgo that I am, I am so organized with my shopping list that I even scare myself.

Annie Dear

I have an app on the phone, and I’ve numbered the various departments the app provides to coincide with the order of the aisles from left to right. I can zap through my usual store like a shopping ninja, I’m telling you.

Well, this new store – well, new to me – was all over the place like a mad woman’s breakfast. I found I’d walked the entire joint without actually putting anything in my cart, so had to backtrack to actually achieve anything.  Intelligence – nil, Dickier Knee – 10.

I wrote many years ago about my darling Sir’s propensity to outdo me before I’ve even tried. I can come into the kitchen and exclaim “damn, I have a hangnail,” and Sir will pathetically utter “I’ve got a broken arm.” Or – “I’m coming down with a cold,” only to be immediately topped with “I’ve got pneumonia.”

Many weeks ago, I had the need to schedule a procedure, which, to save any delicate readers, will require a day of preparation to which I am not looking forward. What did Sir do? Ended up in the emergency room, with the order to get this procedure done ASAP.  So, he’s gone through his torment – and he’s fine, thanks for asking – and I am yet to, shall we say, look forward to it.

Here I am with the Dickiest of Knees, and what does Sir do? Slip in the shower, and Dicky up his own Knee. We would be absolutely useless in a three-legged race right now, as only two of the four are functional.

Now, Sir’s Dicky Knee is evidently Dickier than mine, as every movement, step, breath, and eyelash movement is met with a bellowed groan. Mine is, of course, met with a stoic, sharp intake – almost silent – of breath.

We’re taking turns with the ice packs and heating pads. We’ve had to put off our dear friends for lunch for the third Sunday in a row, and I’m very bored with the entire process.

You’ve heard of Ren and Stimpy?

Well, now you’ve met Gimp & Gimpy.

Annie Dear lives in Lee’s Summit. Email her at