This one is small but cozy, in a two-family house with a small yard for her little toy poodle to run outside. It’s clean, and everything in it works. It has a real roof and real windows that let light inside, though I worry about the ventilation and how much Linda smokes. She is limping badly now. Although she tries to hide it, I see her wince when she stands from her chair. It’s no mystery now that her knee replacement a few years ago was too big for her leg. By the time it was discovered to be the problem, no surgeon wanted to do the re-replacement because of complications with her scar tissue. I don’t want her to give up on finding a solution to her pain, and I have urged her to see another doctor. I asked my doctor in Connecticut to recommend a surgeon down here, and she has just seen him. This new doctor has told Linda that he will do it, but that there is a 50 percent chance he will have to amputate her leg if he encounters problems with the surgery. And he anticipates problems.
