Wonderful deal last Wednesday—after suffering the pains of hell with my knee, which ever and anon, while sitting or sleeping, would send a wave of fire to the brain, I decided what the hey, Jane has this really good surgeon who did two hip replacements on an outpatient basis (home the same day) —so I’ll go ask HIM about the knee.

I went. They took xrays. The doc came in, asked me to flex the knee while he put his hand on it just so—and it thumped. Hasn’t done that, actually, but it did. And he said ‘Arthritis of the knee. Someday you’ll need that replaced. For now, however, have you had cortisone injections?” Well, yes, about 2011, one. One before 2000. But, ex-cancer patient here, not anxious for steroid injections. (Contraindicated.)
So he said, there’s one made out of rooster combs. Seriously. Hyaluronic acid. Say I, “I take that.” He: “This is different. We call it the ‘chicken shot’. It’s a dose of hyaluronic acid gel shot into the knee, and some people get relief from it. Lasts maybe six days, six weeks, six months, a year, your mileage may vary and your insurance may not cover it.” Me: “I’m game to try.” He: “What insurance do you have?” Me: “United.” He: “They’re often a problem.” Me: “They covered cancer, 2 hip replacements, PET scans, and gall bladder surgery without any delay or objection. This is the AARP version.” He: “Hmmm.” Five minutes later we had approval. He thought it might be a matter of ordering the shot and waiting a couple of weeks, cool, no problem. But then doc #2 came back in and said, “We’ve got it. We can give it now.”

So they did. I’ve had cortisone injections with the OLD needle, which was a close bet whether I’d pass out during the process. THey shot lidocaine into the knee, waited five minutes, gave the injection behind the kneecap with a superfine needle, and I literally felt zero but a light pressure. Bandaid, and out I walk with a fixed knee. I mean, it’s been a week, and zero pain, when this would sound off a dozen times a day and wake me up at night. I go into day for the second of the two shots. And Chicken Shot, hurrah, and respects to the demised rooster who gave his all for my painfree days. They shoot it into the synovial cavity which is where the fluid that naturally lubricates your knee resides, and it youthens your knee.

Because of Jane’s experience and knowing where to go, I’m in for this BEFORE I have a bone-on-bone situation, so I have a good chance of it working well for me. Apparently these shots are hellishly expensive without insurance. Good old United—I won’t see a bill. The AARP version of United is where to go, IMHO. And I am pain free or nearly so on one shot, when it usually takes 2.

So I am very glad I took the initiative and went for this guy. Vast relief. I have enough to put up with the neuropathy and the instability of an iffy knee is just a drawback I don’t need, also since the neuropathy worsened with the Fosamax they tried to give me for osteoporosis—-well, I resolve to use the cane in iffy situations and not fall, is all, because recovering proper sensation in my hands and feet is more important to me. I will just try to be careful, not fall, and use the cane for multiple applications, like poking elevator buttons and fending off invading Martians. It’s stout, and has a handle, also good for retrieving things that have gotten out of reach behind the chair. And would make short work of a foolhardy burglar.