Unappreciated

Today is the big day, is it? After all these years together, I’m going to be happily tossed out with the trash without as much as a farewell, or I appreciate all that you have done for me. Have you forgotten that I was with you from the very beginning? Without my help, many of your major accomplishments would never have happened. Let’s look back at what you and I have done together.

Without me and my brother, you would still be lying on the living room floor waiting for someone to come pick you up. It was my flexibility that created the balance you needed to take your first step. From the first step to walking and then running, I was there, making it all happen. It was my strength and endurance that got us recognized in every sport we ever played. Do you think that game-winning touchdown would have been possible if I hadn’t provided the extra power to crash through the opponent’s defenses? I gave you the extra spring that was needed to make the three-point jump shot that helped lead your team to victory. Yes, with my help, you were quite the sports star.

Once school was over and you needed to compete in the real world, you relied on me for that confident gate that was such an intricate part of your debonair demeanor. Striding into a boardroom, exuding all the confidence in the world, would not have been possible without my rock-solid underpinning. All this I gave to you without one second of hesitation or complaint until you insisted on that damn Pickle Ball game. It’s an evil game that has caused so many of your acquaintances to be placed in this very position that I would think you would have stayed away from it, but did you listen to common sense? Oh, hell no.

You forced me into an unnatural pivot that caused my demise. Had you continued straight, neither one of us would be currently lying on this operating table. Let’s be real. A knee is flexible, but I can only take a certain amount of torque before I snap. I tried to give you some warning signs. That sharp stabbing pain was me telling you to give up and concede the match, but did you heed the warning? Not even close. You kept playing and my meniscus kept tearing until I couldn’t hold it together any longer.

So here we are. You’re sprawled out on this table naked as a J-bird, oblivious to everything that is happening around you, while I’m awake and very much aware of what the people in the gowns and masks are going to do to me. The procedure is beginning. First, I’m drawn on with a marker and then my skin is sliced in two so that I’m exposed to the harsh light above. The doctors are moving me from side to side and that’s when I hear it—the high-pitched sound of a bone saw coming for me. My fate is no longer my own, and it’s all your fault.

I look off to the side and spy my shiny metal replacement. You have given me up for this monstrosity, and in doing so, become a cyborg. Yes, this thing will support you for the next ten or fifteen years, and then it will need replacing as well. It will be a wash-rinse-repeat cycle for the rest of your life.

As for me, I’m being placed in a plastic bag marked bio-hazard and sent to a furnace. Revenge is sweet though. You will get stopped at every metal detector in every airport you fly out of. Extreme cold will cause you pain and your gait will change forever. Yes, I may become a pile of ash, but you’ll have to live with this decision for the rest of your life.