My Last Fishing Trip (Story)

Everyone hates it when you say this will be my last time to do anything for the last time. Let me go back a few years and catch you up to date on how I got here today.

Back in the Eighties I was a hard and heavy Bass fisherman that would sell my left leg to get out on the lake and fish all day no matter if they were biting or not.

I would say I spent most of the summer fishing and one year did not even put the boat up for the winter. In fact, New Year's day I was on the lake all by myself.

Seems like it was just yesterday that all this was going on, then I was having problems with my back and some morning had problems getting out of bed. I would push myself to get up and get going.

I made a lot of trips to the lake that I will always remember and the camping trips that were included. There was something about sleeping out doors and enjoying Mother Nature, that someone that has never done this you just do not know how much life is passing you by. Some of the best night's sleep was under the stars and listening to the water break the shore.

The eighties went fast and was into the  nineties when I found out that it was not my back, but instead it was my left hip. I made arrangments to visit the doctor and he informed me that my hip would have to be replaced or soon I would not be able to walk. Me and my hard head put it off until I ended up in a wheel chair and could not walk, and was on so much pain medication that sometimes I was in a different world.

I finally agreed to the operation and was landed in the hospital for the operation. Everything went great and was told that I would recover just fine and would notice right off the top the pain was gone. I spent a few days in the hospital until I could walk a short distance and then was released. I rested a lot at home and could feel the walls moving in on me and thought I was about to lose my mind.

There is nothing worse than to sit outside and look at your bass boat and wish you were on the water.

I played it real smooth so I would heal fast, then one afternoon I was just standing on the driveway when I heard a pop noise and then I went to the ground like a sack of potatoes. I think deep down I knew something was wrong but I tried to get by with a little pain, then it got worse. I figured that I better have the doctor check it out.

I drove myself to the hospital again and went to see the doctor. He was in surgery when I arrived and another doctor asked why I was there. I explained that I heard a pop and fell and I think it is my right hip this time. He checked my records and told me that he was going to send me down for x-rays before my doctor got out of surgery. All was done and I waited for my doctor for about 1 1/2 hours. I got tired and told the other doctor that I was going home and if my doctor needed to talk to me, he could reach me at home.

I was told the news then that I had fractured my right hip. They believed it was a stress fracture, and that I was being admitted as we spoke. That night less than three weeks after my first hip operation; I was back under the knife.

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