Water on the Knee -OPERATION

This game was one of my early theoretical inductions to the world of orthodox medicine, and often made me wonder why no one would come by with so plyers and pull icecream out of my head when I got brainfreeze (usually from trying to suck down an entire 1.5 litre 7-Up slurpy from the exotic out-of-town 7-11 that my family visited only twice a year).

The vast majority of the procedures listed on this a-mans body are non-surgical, but hey, where's the fun in "see if you can prescribe Levadopa without scarring the aorta on your way out".

However, water on the knee is one can be treated with a elbow grease and few cutters, and I have had it exactly twice in my life, before, and now. I have developed such a profound distrust of the medical system these days, that I was all for just stabbing myself in the back of the knee (I have a small stash of sterile syringes for just such an occasion) and sucking out all that excess synovial fluid, but everyone convinced me I'd be much better off wandering into emerg. after work and have some kind doctor do it, one no doubt with infinitely more experience stabbing+sucking inflammated joints than myself. I had that done 3 years ago when this last happened in Japan, by an weasened prune of man who must have been at least 92, and who completed the business quickly and cleanly, commenting on the water on the knee pnenomenon only as something that "happens from time to time, whatever".

Naturally I expected the same sort of results here, and 1 hour later, I was greeted by a doctor sporting a green golf tee, brown sandals and a heavy Swiss accent who asked "so would like me to drain the knee?" to which I replied, "no, I'm just here for my health", which might have been funny if I hadn't said it with so much venomous sarcasm. But in the end, I had to concede that, yes, I was there because I needed the doctor to put his unlimited access to medical supplies and knowledge of Gray's Anatomy to work, and quickly relieve me of the discomfort I had gotten myself into. However, he insisted on applying local anaethetic, which isn't actually a good sign, considering this particular operation can be performed with minimal agony to the patient. It was good that he had in the end because he jabbed the massive needle in several times at different angles under the knee cap, insisting that going through the back of the knee was somehow more "irresponsible", because there is a bunch of sensitive tissue back there - whereas the area under the knee cap is an impenetrable fortress tough as old leather, apparently. He didn't manage to get even enough synovial fluid out to drown a tick in. As we parted, he imparted to me the wisdom that there must be a reason for all that fluid in there, and to take some asprin (the Everymans Pancea!) and keep the leg elevated. At least I got a free tensor bandage out of the deal.

Henceforth, I hopped on my mighty pedalled steed, and raced home, hoping to beat the half-life of the anaesthetic, grabbed a small needle from my own stash, and did indeed stab myself in the back of my own knee cap.

What words can describe the sensation? Let me think...AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOHHHH BLARGGGHMMMMMMMMMMMMMmmmmm...not that bad actually. I rate it just slightly above walking a few klicks on a brisk windy day after peeing your pants.

Managed to get a bit more fluid out, with no harm done, and rather less fanfare than the emergency room, with all it's blips, beeps, and ever-present whiffs of diseased human effluent. I am now a fully converted health nut wacko who will never set foot in another hospital again. I just need to learn acupuncture so that I anaesthetize myself for a little self-performed open heart surgery, should the need arise. No really, check it out: http://www.pubmedcentral.nih.gov/articlerender.fcgi?artid=1729344

My living room is of comparible cleanliness to any operating room, though I'm not sure which figures larger for post-operative infection, MRSA or bits of cat hair and stale tortilla chips. If we don't try, we'll never know.