Robots will not replace me! The fear that we’re building our replacements is unfounded. We are building our replacement parts. Robots aren’t coming to get me. I’m absorbing them into my body. I’m the potential host. I can implant all kinds of mini electro-mechanical devices into my body. And, as I age and my body expands, I seem to be making room for them.

I used to joke that when someone had a knee or hip replacement, they were becoming bionic. Well, my wife, The Fair Helenkela, had both knees and hips replaced, and she may be Wonder Woman, but she’s still low-tech and definitely not a robot.

I’m not talking about inert implants, e.g., dental fillings, bone transplants, surgical mesh, filters to catch embolisms or breast implants. I’m not counting mechanical prostheses. I am grateful for the lifesaving wonders of heart, lung, kidney, and liver transplants. Still waiting for “If I only had a brain” to become feasible.

High-tech electronic implants that rely on electric power are a different kettle of fish, a horse of another color. Maybe we’ll become a different sub-species of humans as we evolve not physically but mechanically.

If we keep going in this direction, we won’t go to doctors or hospitals but to Genius Bars for tech support and hardware stores for parts. We’re already using so many battery-powered implanted devices that instead of fearing falling in the shower, we should fear getting electrocuted in the shower.

I live in an age where I could need and receive an implanted pacemaker and defibrillator to regulate my quivering heart. I could get a mechanical heart. I wouldn’t have to fear cholesterol. However, rust could be an issue.

Though I’m not ready, I could compensate for my hearing loss with cochlear implants or have implanted devices to stimulate my diaphragm. (The one that helps me breathe, not the very temporary implants for birth control for which I don’t physiologically qualify.) We have deep brain stimulators for seizure disorders. We implant pain pumps and insulin pumps. We can also implant stimulators for our vagus nerve. Please note: It’s not “Vegas nerve,” though there could be an electroshock implant to disincentivize gambling.

I see ads on TV exhorting me to stop pricking my fingers to check blood sugar but instead to get an implant. They also advertise an implantable device for sleep apnea. Is there really that much room for all these pumps and batteries?

I have bright friends concerned about the “Robot Apocalypse” and how our robots might band together to replace us. This is exactly backward. We’re becoming them by choice.

I’m fortunate that there are lifesaving medical devices I could implant—or maybe “install” would be a better term. All of these implants will eventually make the bionic joke a reality. We’ll be stuffed with new and improved organs.

In our Brave New World, if I’m lucky (or unlucky) enough to need and receive all these implants with their various power sources, how will they fit inside my admittedly expanding body? I could be so stuffed with electronic devices and their batteries that my insides will resemble my garage—or worse, my desk.

This being America, where healthcare is not guaranteed, I know cost will be a factor. I’m certain the finance industry would step in to fill the void. So, naturally, I must wonder if, if I were to fall behind on my payments, they would physically repossess my devices or, more likely, turn me off?