Knee Envy

It is 7:50 a.m. I wait for Hubby-dear in the foyer of a medical professional building. I sit in a wheel chair that magically appeared when we drove up.

I watch the people approach the automatic doors and walk in. So cavalier. Talking on the cell phone. Trusting their legs and feet.  Looking one way and walking in another direction. Texting. Eating their breakfast taquitos. Loaded down with their Vera Bradley lunch bags and other bags that I don't recognize.  Walking unaware. Skinny jeans with strappy summer sandals. Slip-on clogs. Neon color running shoes. Sensible shoes out of my reach.

I see the faces. They think about their agenda for the day. They think about the problems they left at home. They think about the bad news they heard on CNN.

None think about their knee.

None are awestruck with the engineering of three leg bones connecting behind a small saucer-shaped bone called the patella. None marvel at the design of movement and balance. None wonder over the strength of the joints to sustain the 175 pounds of human flesh. The bending of the leg is a wonder.

I have knee envy.