Fully Ambulatory Again By...um...Christmas?

[dr_pretentious]

The upshot is, there's an end in sight, which there hasn't been since January.


Yesterday, I went in to see my Wonderful Doctor--not the one who ordered me off the pain meds--and said, "O Wonderful Doctor, I've been ordered off the pain meds by the Well-Intentioned Specialist, and now I can't walk. I can't go on like this. Something must be done."

"You, off your pain meds? What was she thinking?" said my Wonderful Doctor, and her indignation on my behalf is one of the reasons she's the Wonderful one.

After my long attempt to summarize an obscure study I hadn't read but had had described to me by the Well-Intentioned Specialist, my Wonderful Doctor said, "I'll call her up and we'll sort this out." That would be another reason she's the Wonderful one.

"Anyhow, it's been almost a year since I injured myself, and it's getting worse. I know the risks of cortisone injections are kind of scary..." Or at least, that's what I kept hearing from the doctors who were filling in for her while she was in Louisiana. The way I could tell things were finally starting to suck less in Katrina-land back in late September? The Red Cross laid claim to my Wonderful Doctor.

"Actually," said the Wonderful Doctor, "it's not the risks that make us hesitate. The shots just hurt like a motherfucker." Yes, she actually said 'motherfucker.'

So I said, "Is one week of hurts-like-a-motherfucker worse than 11 more months of compromised mobility? I'm not afraid of pain. I'm afraid of not being able to function." Yes, twoeleven, that would be my martyrdom complex.

"No," said the Wonderful Doctor. "It wouldn't."

So she handled the referral, and I have an appointment for a cortisone injection for the 22nd.

This means that, unless I can snag somebody else's cancellation earlier, I'll be limping through Thanksgiving with the in-laws in hurts-like-a-motherfucker mode, but I'm past caring. My father-in-law, upon hearing that I could barely walk, nonetheless was appalled that I would inconvenience the family on Thanksgiving. "Couldn't you put it off another week?" he asked. Why no. No, in point of fact, I couldn't.

And then, there's the bizarre good news I hadn't been expecting. When I stopped being able to walk for exercise, I took up biking, which involves the feet but puts very little weight on them. As a result of taking up cycling, my resting heart rate is now 30bpm lower than it was before I got injured. I hadn't been keeping track of my resting heart rate, but when the nurse told me what it was, I said, "That can't be right." And then when it was, we checked my chart to see what it used to be. My resting heart rate is 65 bpm now. Nobody would guess it, to look at me. So there's my silver lining.

Comments

[vgnwtch.livejournal.com]

re: Foot: OOOW! I had no idea about this.

re: Thanksgiving: Whhaa?

re: Resting heart rate: Now that is cool.

[dr-pretentious.livejournal.com]

I try not to make this kind of thing into anybody else's problem.

[vgnwtch.livejournal.com]

It isn't anybody's problem to know about it and accommodate you; it is, though, really embarrassing to find out one of your closest mates has been in pain for ages and you'd not a clue, and hadn't been able even to sympathise. Don't do it again! (Consider this a sympathetic, friendly telling off and not an angry one)

[dr-pretentious.livejournal.com]

I know, I know, and I'm sorry. It's just, pain is kind of normal. After that, it's a matter of degrees. I have trouble figuring out how much pain is newsworthy. A cane, though--that's unambiguously newsworthy.

Dan's planning on working from home on Cortisone Day, so he can drive me there and back, but we'll be preparing to host a few of his relatives over Thanksgiving. (Just four of them, not the whole bunch. The big shindig's in Brooklyn, and there'll be 30 of them there.) If you were overwhelmed by a desire to make a casserole or something the weekend before, something we can live on while Dan looks after me and pulls the house together and I lie around the living room saying, "Wow, Dr. H was right, this does hurt like a motherfucker"... Well, I wouldn't turn that down.

Wow. I asked for help with something and didn't get struck by lightning.

[citabria]

By the by, I'm planning to go to Delicious Orchards, in Colt's Neck, on the 21st. So if you'd like any weird ingredients, veggies, herbs or delicious no-work (i.e., someone else made them) pies, just let me know!

Plus, heck woman -- if you need anything give me a call! You're close enough for me to actually be useful to, helpwise! And even though I'm hoping to be in the office more these days, I'm still hoping for that to generally be three days a week tops.

[dr-pretentious.livejournal.com]

I realized while your mom was in dire condition that I didn't have a phone number for you, and the only folks I knew would have it were the Turtle Hill crowd, who were already overwhelmed with G's cancer. So, just to sort that out in a moment when nothing is actually exploding, our number is:
seven three two - six nine eight - nine three eight three.

I would love to take you up on your offer to pick up veggies at the orchard, since grocery shopping is getting to be problematic these days. It's more walking than I ever realized, and the cane means I only have one hand any time I'm standing up.

Give me a call, whenever. And thank you, you fabulous person.

[vgnwtch.livejournal.com]

If you were overwhelmed by a desire to make a casserole or something the weekend before, something we can live on while Dan looks after me and pulls the house together and I lie around the living room saying, "Wow, Dr. H was right, this does hurt like a motherfucker"... Well, I wouldn't turn that down

You're on.

[oaktavia.livejournal.com]

gah! I ditto everything vgnwtch said!!!

on the other hand, I have my share of regular daily pain... (without access to medical treatment to rectify it)
and I tend to keep it to myself because I feel bad for creating the reactions of horror (or worse - pity) from those that I feel close enough to share that kind of info with. Weird but there it is.

Heart rate: WOOOO HOOOO!!!!

[citabria]

Okay, who is your Wonderful Doctor? I'm quite happy with my own Very Cool Doctor in NYC, but I always worry that she'll leave the practice. Plus, it would be nice to know of a Wonderful Doctor closer to were I live.

[dr-pretentious.livejournal.com]

Beatrix Roemheld-Hamm, at the Family Practice Center in New Brunswick. She's hard to catch these days, since she's doing research stuff and teaching stuff, too. One unusual selling point--she's German and was trained in Germany, and so is familiar with the Commission E monographs on herbal medicine. I've had her as my primary care doc for over ten years, and hope I never have to switch.

[sabrinamari.livejournal.com]

Whoooooooaaaaaaa.

65 bpm?


Whoooooooooooaaaaaaaa.

[dr-pretentious.livejournal.com]

Knew you'd like that detail. It's due in no small part to your influence, by the way, so thank you.

[sabrinamari.livejournal.com]

I am so impressed. This is not an easy shift to create. Wow.