On Saturday night, after writing group, I met three friends at The Arcade for dinner. As usual, I walked in with my keys in my hand, not taking the time to put them in my pocket book. I put them on the table, had dinner, then walked out without remembering to pick them up.
They were--and still are not--anywhere to be found. Bummer! I've been thinking; now I have to spend $250 to get new keys!
Later, this afternoon, my obsession about keys was eclipsed by a bit of worry about knees.
I got a call this afternoon with results of my MRI--and it turns out I have "significant osteoarthritis" in my right knee ("Bone on bone, no cartilage") alone with a ganglia cyst, whatever that is. Long story short, I'll be calling a knee surgeon tomorrow and making a decision: whether to have a complete or partial knee replacement or get some injections to postpone the inevitable surgery.
New keys and new knees in one month--that may be the title of my post one of these days.
In the meanwhile, I'm almost relieved--to at least have a name for what's been going on. When I know what to call something, it's a lot easier to know what to do about it.
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