[Critique Group 2] Lleonard's sub for June

[Tuchyner5 at aol.com]

982 words  
Generation Cyborg 
At age seventy-plus, she struggles into her hospital bed.  Her nurses bear 
most of the burden as she tries to move her body closer to the  headboard. 
Her relatively good leg feels only minor discomfort as it strains to  shove 
her backwards.  Her right leg,  stiff as a board, is a useless burden in her 
efforts.  
Dorothy was expecting to be recovering from her knee  replacement surgery 
by this time. Her expectations for renewed mobility were  high. It would not 
have been the first body part which would have been replaced.  In fact, her 
artificial shoulder accepted the effort of pushing her body  backward, 
experiencing only a low-grade pain.   It was the kind of discomfort she  had 
learned a long time ago to ignore. She wondered, with dismay, why her knee  
operation had turned out to be so disastrous. 
Shortly after she settled into her new nursing home room,  the nurses set 
her up for a ninety minute i.v. drip, one of a myriad of such  i.v.’s she 
would have to endure. Alone in her bed, she recalled hearing the  horrible news 
that a latent infection had invaded her new knee, almost  immediately after 
its installation. She felt over and over again her disbelief  that her new 
knee was being removed and replaced with a spacer, that would leave  her leg 
unbendable. Denial, rage, and acceptance all warred for prominence,  
leaving her with clenched fists and teary eyes.  
Stiff-legged or not, she would soon be able to take some  small steps with 
the help of others. She also realized that she would be getting  another new 
knee as soon as the extreme antibiotic regimen completely wiped out  the 
infection. That would take weeks, but she had been assured that she would be  
able to get around her own home, with the help of her husband and visiting  
nurses, until the new surgery could be performed.  
A stage of utter despair had been short-lived, because  she had faith in 
the ultimate outcome.  Soon, she would be walking better than she had for 
years, and she would  be returning to her old life.  With  luck, she’d make it 
for another twenty or more years before the ravages of old  age would 
overcome her. Other parts would wear out, but she could keep going  with new and 
improved replacements until that time. 
This scenario is playing out all over the  United  States as well as in 
most of the rest of the  developed world. As our population grows older, our 
body parts wear out. But not  to worry, they can be replaced. In many ways, 
this is a rosy picture. Ideally,  after a period of physical therapy and 
healing, we can return to a full and  productive life that is not much different 
than it was before the part failure.  
But the ideal future is not always materialized. Another  friend of mine 
had her knees replaced, and she did get a few years of being able  to walk at 
a leisurely pace for several blocks. But then she began to fall. Now  she is 
almost as incapacitated as she would have been if she were in a  
wheelchair.  These replacement parts  have a limited life span. 
These new parts are never as good as the factory new  equipment we came 
into this world with. There are notable exceptions. For  example, I knew of a 
professional martial artist who had to replace his hip  several times. 
Finally, he convinced the insurance company to pay for a new hip  joint made with 
exotic, indestructible material. He was back kicking in a  remarkably short 
period. But he dared not kick too high, for fear of creating a  dislocation. 
He also could no longer fight, because he would always be  vulnerable to a 
joint-destroying blow. 
Then there is the reality that many body parts are  irreplaceable. No one, 
to my knowledge, has ever received a brain replacement or  any other central 
nervous system parts. You can’t get new eyes or sense organs.  I know they 
are working on these limitations and, I suspect, will achieve a  measure of 
success eventually, but when is enough? All the parts in an  automobile can 
be replaced and everything restored. However, for most people of  average 
financial means, there comes a point where it just doesn’t make sense to  keep 
going with the time-worn, beloved, and unreliable family member.  
The pun here is intended. Sooner or later, we have to say  goodbye to 
everyone, even our own corporeal existence. At least, this goodbye is  to our 
present bodies. Maybe we buy a new one in another incarnation or in some  other 
realm of existence.  
The point here is, at least in part, replacing and  restoring our bodies 
does not lead to immortality, at least not with today’s  technology. We cannot 
escape the laws of entropy. The rule of dust unto dust  still reigns 
supreme. Not even the universe is immortal. The quality of life  will diminish no 
matter what they can do for us or to us.  When should we cash in our chips? 
I  suppose that is an individual question that all of us will have to answer 
for  ourselves, if they allow us to decide that for ourselves. 
This moves us into the embattled issue of death with  dignity. I think free 
choice is winning the day, but how does this refurbishing  capacity affect 
the choice of the time-of-death problem? I have no idea. I only  point out 
that the question is not one we can avoid.  
In the meantime, I’ll enjoy my relatively new knees.  I’ve got to get out 
into the garden and  do some heavy maintenance. Not sure I have the energy, 
though. I spent the  entire day yesterday at a workshop about the martial 
applications of T’ai Chi.  I’m a little tired and sore. My knees are fine, 
but my shoulders are pretty bad.  Arthritis, you know.
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