Rusty Zippers

I climbed down off the light fixtures I have been swinging from and went out this afternoon. The beagles had to stay here and hold down the fort. That means they would show any stranger coming in where the refrigerator is and ask for it to be opened. Some day Molly will learn to open it herself. That will be very scary.

By some twisted luck, there is a massage therapy school just a few miles from me. They give free massages. I don't even think it is a secret. Well, they used to be free. Now they charge $10, but there is no tipping allowed. I still consider that free. The only problem is that they only do this one afternoon a week for two hours. Of course, the last two computer classes I taught were during that time. Finally, today, I was able to go back. The timing was wonderful.

Massage students are great. They want to fix everything and are chatty, too. She reached for my arm, and backed off, asking me how I got that huge bruise on it. That led to a half hour discussion of pain shots and her knee surgery. She had stepped sideways and torn her ACL.

In August, she had surgery to replace the ACL. I thought about that for a minute, and asked if they have artificial ligaments or did they take it from somewhere else in her body? She sort of giggled, and said that there aren't any artificial devices that could have helped her at this time, and what she has now is a donor ligament. Oh.

She has someone's Achille's tendon in her knee. I thought about that too, and asked if the Achille's tendon isn't stronger than an ACL anyway. Yes, they are. She seems a tad uncomfortable with the idea of a dead person's heel tendon in her knee, but says she figures the person didn't need it any more and she is grateful to have it. How cool is that? Her doctor expects a full recovery with no restrictions.

When she was done with the massage, I asked if I could see her scars. Sorry, but I am more curious than a cat. She showed me. I expected at least one 6-inch incision that looked like a red, rusty zipper. Nope. My daughter used to get worse marks from falling down on grass. She had a few little cuts. In a year or so, it probably won't show at all. She said it itched when it healed. I sympathized, but did not offer to show her my stitches. She kindly didn't ask where they are.