I had a very pleasant dinner with friends on Saturday night, and Sunday morning showed no precipitation, although the temperature at 6:00 was 14 degrees. After organizing and packing the gear I would take on the train (I had sent a box of stuff earlier to one of the downtown San Antonio UPS offices), and after finishing some housework I finally headed off around 11:50, having driven down to the pasture to check and see that Train 51 was just a few minutes late. Nothing eventful occurred on the drive up and a few minutes after 4:00, the train arrived and I was soon comfortably seated in my sleeper.
I began to ponder my trip to Big Bend and how different things are right now. In my thirties, I completed the outer loop trail, over twenty miles, in four days. It was an ambitious trek—the rangers didn’t want me to go alone, but I convinced them of my experience and they agreed to give me a permit if I left them a carbon copy of my boot print. I felt the isolation and grandeur the wilder parts of the west have always given me. Over the years I did the Chisos Mountains loop trail several times and always felt a great sense of accomplishment. Now, with my troubled knee, I would be reduced to rather gentle excursions. I would never get to the top of the Chisos again, and that is certainly a loss. But I have so many memories and photographs, I can’t complain too much. I have always felt that you should take advantage of things early on. That way if later life prevents you from certain activities, you have already had the experience. I hiked to the top of Mt. Rundle in the Canadian Rockies three times and failed on my fourth and fifth attempts (because of an injured calf). Those failures would have been much more negative if I had never reached the pinnacle before. In Big Bend I will be able to hike on relatively flat terrain, ride my bike, and paddle an easy stretch of the Rio Grande. I am more than satisfied with those expectations.
Last spring, even those hopes might have been somewhat delusional. The year before, my knee had deteriorated rapidly during the five months of chemotherapy. The doctors even tested me for chemo-related gout, but in the end it was simply arthritis. I had to move very slowly to get anywhere and I had to walk up steps with two feet on each step. When spring came my knee was even worse. I tried wading but after a few minutes my knee would pop and I would scream out in pain. I went back to the orthopedist, a personable and extremely competent surgeon, and he thought that I might try a new treatment called Syn-Visc One. Dr. Barranco told me I could get the drug in a series of three shots, but when he mentioned that I could get the full dose in just one, it was an easy decision for someone with a dread of needles. Syn-Visc One was an alternative to cortisone, but without the bad side effects and it might last up to a year, four times longer than cortisone.
Dr. Barranco has a fine sense of humor, and he uses it on me whenever I come in for a shot, as I have several times. I am always rather nervous—even with my half of a valium—and I inevitably ask him if the shot is going to hurt. His reply is always the same: “This shot isn’t going to hurt me a bit.” I realize it is not the greatest line, but I always start laughing and this time the effect was the same. However, when he asked me to grab hold of both of the nurse’s arms—usually the nurse just holds my hand as I lie there—I should have known that this shot was going to be different. I actually howled in pain as the viscous fluid slowly entered my knee, and more kept coming. I have never felt such interplanetary pain, and my hold on the nurse was fierce. When it was over I was shaking and they wouldn’t let me get up for at least ten minutes. A difficult moment but the results were remarkable.
I did a little wading a few weeks after the shot, and I was impressed. My knee felt flexible and it didn’t pop. The real test came out west where I successfully fished the Ten Sleep and caught a dozen trout in a little over a hundred yards. It was exhilarating to be back wading one of my favorite streams, something I had thought was not going to happen again.
My knee is still fine even after the snowstorm hike but I do worry about when the effects of the Syn-Visc are going to lessen. I already know I would go for another shot because the benefits were so substantial. However, I will take a lot more valium.