Jewelry Trumps Surgery

Until just a few hours ago I was scheduled to get a new hip in less than one month. New hips, called replacements, are very popular these days among members of my generation. Just about everyone's doing it, and they all seem to be quite happy with the results, not counting those patients who died on the table.

Call me madcap, but I've been dreading having what looks like a microphone installed in my body. Surgery is just not my thing. Unless they declare, "You must do this or you will die," I can't seem to get myself up for the pre-surgery medications and the post-operative painkillers and the no showers for ten days and two weeks of no driving and a month on Coumadin--that alone could kill me-- and the walker and the cane and all those antibiotics I'll have to take before I go to the dentist for the rest of my life.

Truth be told, even though my X-rays say it should, my hip doesn't hurt. So I'm keeping it, and getting new earrings instead.