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Mar. 31st, 2005 07:41 pm"No, it's just a simple sprain. Stay off it a few more days and you'll be good as new..."
I don't know about anyone else, that that's sure's fsck what I wanted to hear from Doctor Nwaneri today. Just something simple; yes, it hurts like hell but it mends and life goes on.
It's not what I heard. It started with a frown and the comment "You've a fluid pocket here..." and went downhill fast from there. After poking at me a bit and noting where my hands, locked around the side rails of the exam table, turned bone white, he pulled out the X-rays again. "Nothing is broken, at least no bones. But something is definitely not right here..." And then the words 'reparitive surgery' were used and what little hope I had left sank into the toilet to be flushed away like yesterday's dinner.
*sigh*
I now have an appointment for an MRI on Tuesday. Once the films are back, I go back to Dr Nwaneri. More Vicodin, and a prescription for Bextra to try and deal with the fluid pocket. Having noted where he was touching to find a fluid pocket, once I was settled here again I checked it against the other knee. I wouldn't have thought to prod from that angle... but there's a very sharp difference between the left knee and the blown out right. I am just OH SO FSCKING THRILLED about this. And Dr Nwaneri added himself to the list of health professional scolding me about smoking... though oddly he seemed to think that the weight was a much lesser problem. Odd to me, anyway, as I bundled my leg back into Brace From HellTM; I would've guessed it as the other way around.
-----
And as much as I may bitch about her... Megan got hit this morning with her own disaster. Her family has long been ruled from afar by the two elderly McGregor ladies, sisters of the grandmother Megan barely knew. While immediate stuff is ruled over via Father's Iron Fist, all of the big stuff comes from the Ladies. This morning around 6AM, the elder sister died in her bed after refusing transport to the ER. Regardless of what she may have actually thought of me, Ella McGregor was unfailingly polite and courteous to me... the venom came her slightly younger double, Mary Claire. I never found out whether that was the true disposition of things, or whether it was a very cleverly executed 'good aunt/bad aunt' routine... but all of my memories of conversations with Ella McGregor were pleasant. Her health's been in steady decline the last few years; I can only hope she's feeling better now wherever she's flown to.
You'll be missed, Aunt El. Megan'll be able to come up for the funeral, but my wings are clipped at the moment. My thoughts go with Megan this time around.
-----
It's been a less-than-peaceful week for us, here. There's not a lot that can be done for any of it, really, aside from my hope that things are going better for the rest of the folk I consider family. I... simply don't have a lot more to say. Too much, too fast, and I no longer know my own thoughts. But I worry about my family... which includes the west coast menagerie and pieces scattered almost everywhere else. Hopefully my head'll be a bit more ordered tomorrow and I can get a better journal entry in.
Via con Dios, mon amigos.
~e
I don't know about anyone else, that that's sure's fsck what I wanted to hear from Doctor Nwaneri today. Just something simple; yes, it hurts like hell but it mends and life goes on.
It's not what I heard. It started with a frown and the comment "You've a fluid pocket here..." and went downhill fast from there. After poking at me a bit and noting where my hands, locked around the side rails of the exam table, turned bone white, he pulled out the X-rays again. "Nothing is broken, at least no bones. But something is definitely not right here..." And then the words 'reparitive surgery' were used and what little hope I had left sank into the toilet to be flushed away like yesterday's dinner.
*sigh*
I now have an appointment for an MRI on Tuesday. Once the films are back, I go back to Dr Nwaneri. More Vicodin, and a prescription for Bextra to try and deal with the fluid pocket. Having noted where he was touching to find a fluid pocket, once I was settled here again I checked it against the other knee. I wouldn't have thought to prod from that angle... but there's a very sharp difference between the left knee and the blown out right. I am just OH SO FSCKING THRILLED about this. And Dr Nwaneri added himself to the list of health professional scolding me about smoking... though oddly he seemed to think that the weight was a much lesser problem. Odd to me, anyway, as I bundled my leg back into Brace From HellTM; I would've guessed it as the other way around.
-----
And as much as I may bitch about her... Megan got hit this morning with her own disaster. Her family has long been ruled from afar by the two elderly McGregor ladies, sisters of the grandmother Megan barely knew. While immediate stuff is ruled over via Father's Iron Fist, all of the big stuff comes from the Ladies. This morning around 6AM, the elder sister died in her bed after refusing transport to the ER. Regardless of what she may have actually thought of me, Ella McGregor was unfailingly polite and courteous to me... the venom came her slightly younger double, Mary Claire. I never found out whether that was the true disposition of things, or whether it was a very cleverly executed 'good aunt/bad aunt' routine... but all of my memories of conversations with Ella McGregor were pleasant. Her health's been in steady decline the last few years; I can only hope she's feeling better now wherever she's flown to.
You'll be missed, Aunt El. Megan'll be able to come up for the funeral, but my wings are clipped at the moment. My thoughts go with Megan this time around.
-----
It's been a less-than-peaceful week for us, here. There's not a lot that can be done for any of it, really, aside from my hope that things are going better for the rest of the folk I consider family. I... simply don't have a lot more to say. Too much, too fast, and I no longer know my own thoughts. But I worry about my family... which includes the west coast menagerie and pieces scattered almost everywhere else. Hopefully my head'll be a bit more ordered tomorrow and I can get a better journal entry in.
Via con Dios, mon amigos.
~e
