Ok, so it’s my v-card post, so “Hello everyone. Glad to be here.” GAY. Ok, that’s enough cyber lip gloss on all your chafing asses… busy day in the majors…just saw Schill throw the 8 2/3 no hitter and of course, THE DRAFT…all those gifted studly studs that made the cut. What would we all give to be in their shoes?
But alas, I am the newbie swine and I will respect the pecking order and allow the experienced to elaborate on today’s events. Instead, I will take a different angle.
I imagine a large amount of Reds fans are on here and I lament with you, as I lived in Cincy for many years. I am by birth, a Mets fan as I was born in Connecticut and my family hails from Queens. The Mets were the dungeon dwellers for many years of my youth, so I feel your pain.
There is a particular bright spot in the Reds organization, a man I’ve seen quite a few times in the last few months. The Great Dr. Timothy Kremchek.
My girlfriend and former Ohio Wesleyan Stat girl (this is another story) used to run track and to make a long story short, she blew out her knee completely and Indiana, where she is from, does not have the best orthopedic surgeons. In fact, “quacks” would be a polite term for these individuals. When we started dating, she had already had 3 surgeries (she was 19 at the time), and she still walked like a pirate and had chronic pain.
Years ago, my freshman year playing ball at OWU, I swung at a Cam Cowden fastball up and in during a Fall scrimmage. I heard my wrist snap. Well in spite of the shooting pain up in down my arm, I kept playing. I finished the fall season (a whole month and a half) and went to get it checked. Well, no one could diagnose it for some reason. So, I gave up seeking attention in the greater Columbus area and went home to Cincy to visit a doctor who has more hype than a FOX Superbowl pregame show which of course, burdens our eyes and ears all day, tormenting us slowly and of course, ends with an anticlimactic coin toss where even the coin seems to take its damn time landing on heads or tails. The hype is no other than Doc Hollywood himself.
But that’s not the point. I don’t believe hype. I hate hype, but really, there was no one left to turn to. I discribed my injury to this man, he looks at me, giggles a little and says exactly what I did and finally got my shit fixed. I was impressed.
So when Statty (my gf’s nickname) couldn’t get fixed right, I knew who to go to.
This man is a great man. To shake his hand is a strange experience in itself. He has the strength of a lumberjack, yet a supple softness that quite frankly, is so surprising that you react strangely. He has a dry sense of humor and an incredible arrogance, well deserved arrogance. He has cut on (and for many, saved their careers) of the likes of Ken Griffey, Jr., Kerry Wood, Stan Musial…and countless others…I mean, this guy’s facility rivals the Baseball Hall of Fame with signed jersies, balls, bats, and photos, I shit you not!
Well, Statty and I visited him once before. He was quite perplexed by her case. He does not take many females, yet alone non-athletes. Normally, he would just pass a girl like Statty off to one of his associates. But I mentioned the past surgeries of the poor little Statty. She also has a joint and flexibility disorder. So Statty, is an enigma and a challenge that Kremchek sees fit for his skills, as 3 other surgeons, including the Columbus Bluejackets team doctor, have failed.
We journeyed to Cincy on a January, Wednesday afternoon. He starts looking at her leg and goes, “I don’t like the look of this. I don’t like how this is progressing. We’re going to operate Friday morning.” Leaves the room. I mean, no warning, no asking questions like, “How do you feel about this?”, etc…he’s the boss and there will be no questioning of his call.
Friday, I was able to watch the surgery from an observation room. Unbelieveable. I mean, you feel like you are attending an orchestra concert or something. Statty is out cold on the table. The nurses and anesthesiologist are doing their job, prepping and making sure that all is ready. He appears from an unseen entrance. The maestro enters, he does not acknowledge us. He gets to work, performing the scope, slicing several small incisions into my gf’s tiny leg. He works with a feverish pace, and a look of extreme intensity. I mean, as things begin to progress and more tissue is cut, more scar tissue is removed, one can really get an appreciation of how talented this man really is. He has a swagger. He feeds off of the success of the operation. In a lot of ways, he really is no different than the athletes he repairs day in and day out. Perhaps this is the bond that they share beyond the appreciation of what he does to mend their injuries. Perhaps this is why many athletes from outside the Reds come to him.
After performing the scope in about 15 mins, he sews Statty up, snaps his latex gloves off in a swift, fluid motion, like a second baseman making the turn on a double play, and looks up at us in the observation room. Two thumbs up and I almost expected a bow.
I didn’t know how to react. I mean, I started to clap. I was in awe of what I just saw.
So this is a summation of my experiences with The Great Dr. Kremchek. Statty’s leg is doing well for now. If you have any need for an orthopedic surgeon, I can’t stress enough: Get your ass to Beacon Orthopaedics…nough said. So all your Reds fans, don’t be alarmed if a star player goes down in need of a serious surgery, b/c this guy is the best in the biz.