So, I'm pretty sure I need a knee replacement. C doesn't believe me, of course, but that's because she doesn't take me seriously on a wide variety of subjects up to and including my own health.
But the knee is gonna have to go. And I'm not just saying that because I spend the majority of my waking hours reading other people's medical records (professionally, of course, not for fun). It's just a function of age. As parts wear out, they must be repaired or replaced. Like on cars. Luckily we now have the ability to replace the parts with synthetic substitutes that are effective and discreet. All you pirates out there remember hook hands and peg legs, don't you? No good.
So as we age, the clock is ticking on our original parts. But how do we know when the timer is about to go off? I'm pretty sure I found out this morning.
When I found a 3 inch long, grey hair growing out of my ear.
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