My own doctor had arranged for me to get into Beth Israel in Boston to see a knee surgeon Thursday.  I’m trying to get my left knee replaced by a operation before January 15^th, since I have a heavy schedule starting March 28^th for gigs and to get an essay book in to PM Press for their Outspoken Authors series.  I was delighted to get an appointment, since on my own I couldn’t even get in to see anyone before February.My left knee has gotten worse very quickly.  For years after the treadmill accident, I could manage.  But not any longer.  Shopping at Whole Foods, it was so hard for me to walk, I felt like crying.  I didn’t have my cane because it’s awkward pushing a shopping cart with it.  My knee is now bone on bone. We got to Beth Israel, drove around the huge parking garage for fifteen minutes before finding a space.  I had allowed plenty of time, so we were even a couple of minutes early.They took about 8 X-rays, I filled out five pages of paperwork, was interviewed about insurance by two people.  In the X-rays, I could see there was no cushion left in my knee at all.  Finally into the doctor’s office.  Waited half an hour there which I was expecting.  She came in finally. She was very pleasant and answered all our questions fully and patiently.  But she was also very pregnant and it turned out she’s taking leave starting in a week and won’t be back for several months.I know have an appointment with another surgeon at Beth Israel-Deaconess on December 3^rd. I don’t care about the holidays. I am hoping desperately that he can get me in during my time slot.This is all very boring to anyone else but it’s all I can think about.  I did manage to write two poems this week before the appointment, because I was hopeful this doctor would agree to surgery soon.  Now my brain is stuck in my knee.The drought finally seems to have broken here.  It gets quite cold at night, but we still have lots of salad greens, Brussels sprouts, kale and leeks.  I made leek and potato soup Tuesday night. I love it but Woody only tolerates it – no meat, no fish.  Not his delight.  I enjoy soup in general; he doesn’t, so I don’t get to cook it as often as I’d like.  For me, soup, salad and good bread is a great meal.I’ve pretty much finished work on my new poetry book, tentatively called MADE IN DETROIT. As soon as the contract with Knopf is signed, I’ll submit it.  I pushed hard to get it done so if I have surgery, at least that will be on its way.  I haven’t even thought about the new book for PM Press, for their Outspoken Author series.  It’s due April 16^th.  I better start soon.Tonight we’ll pick up friends and go to supper at some friends’ house, who are vegetarians.  They live way in the woods. Tom, our friend, has had a knee operation. I have been interviewing everybody I know who has been through it.  I can tell you that experiences, pain and recovery time vary wildly.  Still, I can’t go on like this unable to do most of the things I enjoy, besides reading and writing.