ode to surgeons!!

My left knee finally gave up the fight

After hauling me round day and night.

Years of walking and lifting with care,

Decades of nursing,

And yes—sometimes kneeling

(But only for prayer!).

I hobbled along for a good few years,

Doing my best to hide my tears,

And the fear of letting the old knee go—

But at 65, I was moving way too slow.

Then along came Paul Curtin—a hero in blue—

He looked at my knee and said, “We’re through.”

Next thing I knew—swift as can be!—

He whipped out the old

And popped in a new.

“It’ll be sore,” he warned…

And it really was —TRUE!

But now my shiny new knee and I are tight,

I bend, I walk, I sleep at night.

Ten weeks on, I’m feeling grand—

Thank you, Paul,

For the brand-new stand!

But one thing nags me, just for fun:

Where do old knees go when they’re done?

A secret knee retirement home?

A scrapyard full of creaky bone?

Do they gossip about the miles they trod—

Or just rest at last,

And thank God?

Bernie Kirwan