If
there was ever a place I never wanted to visit its Limbo. No calm sea or happy dancing there in Limbo,
just a boring pause desperate for a breakthrough. Yet, I found myself there these last few
weeks.
I’ve
reached the limit for healing my left knee.
I can do no more until I have the right knee replaced. My surgical knee compensates and I walk
lopsided. Plus it hurts. My therapist, the standup comic, throws up
his hands and says: “You are in Limb-O!”
I
set the date for another surgery. That’s
when the rigmarole began. I flunked my
chest X-ray. I took it again and got the same result. I felt like an outcast.
“You
are inoperable,” they said.
I
visited one doctor and then another. I
completed an echocardiogram.
I
wondered if my primary physician would release me for my very close surgery
date. Fear set in that something was
wrong with me yet I felt great. I didn’t
fit the suggested diagnosis. Why can’t
life be smooth?
How to survive Limbo Control
freaks hate Limbo. They map…
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