I should know by now that whenever you have a significant trip planned, the bod says "Yeah? Well let's see what you can do when you try to get ready for it and your hips and knees don't work!" I've spent the past week trying to prove the old joints and bones wrong, but they're stubborn little odds and ends that don't give up easily.
When the bone doc mentioned the eventuality of having cortizone injections through the groin, I noticed that I broke into a moderate sweat. No wonder my days of tent camping came to an abrupt end. My body parts could see the writing on the outhouse wall! At least I have an official-sounding reason not to "rough it" any longer. I'd never be able to stand up again.
I also prefer to think of myself as stately when I use my walking stick instead of decrepid. The bones disagree, but what do they know? They're just bones. The only thing that gives away my condition is when I try to swing a leg up into the cab of my truck and may have to take a couple of tries at it. I fear that one of these days I'm going to haul off and accidentally knock the slats from under some unsuspecting little kid with a round-house karate kick. That would be tough to explain, especially with me crumpled on the ground crying harder than the kid I just leveled.
Oh well, all I have to do is carefully finish my research on the road and get back home in the next couple of weeks. Then everyone will be safe again with me playing hermit behind my computer screen and my backside planted firmly in a chair.
I might just have to use those contraptions called aeroplanes in the future. I hear they work pretty well for many types of expeditions. I'm not sure where they place the "handicap" sticker though - on me or on the pilot's rearview mirror.