I traded my knee for a lifetime of telling people how brave I am

March 6, 2026 — 2:30am

You have reached your maximum number of saved items.

Remove items from your saved list to add more.

Save this article for later

Add articles to your saved list and come back to them anytime.

Last time I had a knee replacement, about a year ago, I had a fantasy about the moment in which the surgeon would cut into my leg and, for the first time, see my ruined left knee. Surely it would be the most arthritic knee he’d ever seen, and he’d fall into a quiet reverie about how I’d put up with the pain for so long. “Look at this,” he’d say to his assistant. “There’s hardly anything left to throw away. I’ve never seen anything like it.” The nurses, too, would crowd around, shaking their heads in disbelief.

It’s then that the full crew of the operating theatre would begin singing. Softly at first, then growing in intensity. It would be a spirited rendition of You’ll Never Walk Alone or – better – a four-part harmony version of Lean on Me. Tears would stain their cheeks, falling freely on their scrubs, as they contemplated the fallen hero that lay before them.

This time, back at the same hospital, having the other dicky knee removed, I wanted to do more than fantasise about the operating theatre and the scenes within. I decided to question the medicos when they appeared at my bedside the........

© WA Today