D-Day is approaching

The surgery date has been set – 12-31-08. Yup. New Year’s Eve. Or as Christina likes to say, “Happy Knee Year!”

People keep asking me how I feel about the upcoming surgery. Remember Clubber Lang’s prediction in Rocky 3? Pain, said Mr. T. Before this surgery, I think the time I was most scared was when a bunch of seniors at my fraternity forced me to eat 3 whole jalapenos sober without a chaser. That was my punishment for being the Problem Pledge. I think this surgery will hurt much worse, though the vicodin should take away some of the sting. In some ways, I feel like the kid who fucked up and knows that momma’s waiting at home to whoop his ass. It’s time to face the music.

Some might suggest I’m being a bit selfish by scheduling the surgery on New Year’s Eve. Well, those people would be right. I am extremely selfish. I plan to milk my upcoming incapacity like an industrious farmer after 4 Red Bulls. But I didn’t screw up any special New Year’s plans. We weren’t heading to some swanky ballroom to sip champagne at midnight while being showered with confetti. Nor did we plan on hitting any 4am raves at secret warehouses.

Long gone are the days of paying $40 cover charges to drink unlimited 8oz plastic cups of beer and wine. Honestly, after having kids our New Year’s became pretty lame. These days, we watch the ball drop in Times Square, consider that close enough, and call it a night. I’m lucky if I’m still awake for some New Year’s nookie. Frankly, this year’s New Year’s Eve won’t be too different. Well, except for the nookie. I can handle the pain, but not the lack of nookie. It’ll be like sophomore year in high school all over again. Only without the acne, thank god. Anyway, this year I’ll watch the festivities with my SUV-sized knee draped over some pillows, bitching that the rabbit ears are obstructing the view on the ancient 13” TV in our bedroom. Part of me, however, is secretly excited about this New Year’s. I’ll be armed with a bottle of vicodin and a truckload of Ryan Seacrest jokes. That’s pretty tough to top. I’m pretty confident I’ll be giggling at midnight.

The decision to schedule the surgery on New Year’s Eve was strictly a timing and monetary one. Because of the lengthy rehab, I wanted to schedule the surgery as soon as possible. December 31st happened to be the first day the cloned cartilage cells would be available. Luckily, the surgery center and Dr. Turgeon were also available that day. Actually, it’s pretty good timing for everybody involved. The OR staff gets to stuff their pockets with all the leftover narcotics from my surgery before heading out to their New Year’s cocktail parties. And for me, having the surgery on the 31st brings the added bonus of lowering my surgical bill. I’ve already incurred a large chunk of health expenses this year. This surgery will put me well over my maximum out-of-pocket exposure. On January 1, that number starts over, so by sneaking in the surgery on the last day of the year, I’m saving a few dollars. Not only am I devishly handsome and gimpy, but I’m practical. It’s a wonderful combination that Christina can’t resist.