Driving

I drove my car yesterday for the first time in almost a month. I went to see Dr. David Gibson, the brilliant surgeon who fixed the problems created by the doctor who did my knee two years ago. Gibson was very happy – as am I – with my recovery and wrote a referral for two-three weeks of physical therapy. (I’ve had home visits from Wonderful Wendy, my favorite dominatrix, since I got home; next is work with weights and machines at a rehab facility).

The hesitation about letting someone drive too soon after knee surgery is what might happen in an emergency. If I had to stop suddenly and slam my foot on the brake, who knows what damage I might do to the knee? So, until yesterday, I was home bound.

Turns out the problem I had driving did not come from my knee at all, but rather, from my eyes. It was hard to drive with tears obscuring the road.

Once again, the culprit was a brilliant podcast, this time an episode of Radio Lab from WNYC in New York. This one is entitled 23 Weeks 6 Days and is the story of Kelley Benham and the pregnancy she went through with her husband Tom French. The title comes from the generally held belief that 24 weeks is the minimum age a fetus must reach before it is viable; Kelley and Tom’s daughter was born one day shy of that.

I invite you to listen to the show, so I won’t tell you how it came out. But, as I said, I cried. I cried picturing this poor couple facing decisions no one should ever have to make. I cried thinking about the child that I might have had in 1968 had my girlfriend made a different decision. I cried as I ponder the enormous burden of being a parent – something I have admired from afar in my friends, but never experienced.

Do I wish I had kids? Well, yes. And no. I’ve had an excellent life and much of what I’ve done would not have been possible with children. Had I had kids of course I would have, I hope, had an equally excellent, just different, life. That could have been me and Ransom on the left; instead it's Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka with their twin boys. 

We live the lives we’re given. Mine’s been a good one, and it’s getting better again now that I can leave my house. Who knew spring had arrived while I was cooped up?