Sat, 14 Jan 2006
My Dear Friends,
I'm observant! Been using these crutches for two months and first noticed yesterday that they're set to the wrong height! An inch too high! No wonder I was walking crooked. Sigh.
Still feel tired but a little more upbeat than last time.
Went to the orthopedic surgeon on Thursday. (You're gonna love this.) As usual, she sends the doctor-in-training to check me out first. If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me this next question..."So, are you in physical therapy?"
NOOOOOOOO!
"But it says "strengthening exercises" in your chart..."
Whatever.
Then the tech comes in to take x-rays. I fend her off. I had x-rays every week in radiation. Use those, I tell her.
"Did the doctor ask for them?"
"No, the doc doesn't know I had radiation."
The tech goes away.
More than an hour after my appointment time, I finally see the doctor.
I get up and walk for her, she nods in recoginition. I explain that I had radiation, that both my oncologist and the rad oncologist said I needed it.
I tell her, "My oncologist had said, "Why aren't you in radiation?""
"Because I cut out the bone!" the doc replies with an air of defeat.
(Remember, the oncologist had explained that surgeons like to think they got every little cell. Taking radiation is like telling them they may have missed something and it questions their skill. Well, I'm in battle here. I will take all steps necessary. I'm not going to risk another tumor just to prevent hurt feelings!)
After that, she tests the strength of my right leg. She presses down on my knee and asks me to lift up. She presses on the outside and asks me to open. Presses on the inside, try to close.
At one point she says softly,"Oh, come on."
She was not happy with the weakness. I felt like I had disappointed a teacher. That feeling passed as I realized I am perfectly willing to put in the hard work necessary to rehabilitate myself but she failed to give me the tools. She had only suggested one exercise in the past. Not enough.
Finally, she writes the prescription (or should I say paragraph?) for physical therapy. Three times a week for a month. Will call the P.T. place down the street on Monday.
About those tests on the bone, she couldn't find them but was certain they'd been done. She'd call on it. If they weren't done, she'd ask for them again.
That's the latest.
The deacon from my church will probably visit me next week. He's involved in the homeless ministry so I bought some jars of peanut butter for him at the grocery store yesterday.
As the kids were helping put them in the cart, I joked that I pay the deacon in peanut butter when he comes to see me. Their eyes got big.
"Really?" they asked.
Silly kids. :)
Love,
Jeanette
I'm observant! Been using these crutches for two months and first noticed yesterday that they're set to the wrong height! An inch too high! No wonder I was walking crooked. Sigh.
Still feel tired but a little more upbeat than last time.
Went to the orthopedic surgeon on Thursday. (You're gonna love this.) As usual, she sends the doctor-in-training to check me out first. If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me this next question..."So, are you in physical therapy?"
NOOOOOOOO!
"But it says "strengthening exercises" in your chart..."
Whatever.
Then the tech comes in to take x-rays. I fend her off. I had x-rays every week in radiation. Use those, I tell her.
"Did the doctor ask for them?"
"No, the doc doesn't know I had radiation."
The tech goes away.
More than an hour after my appointment time, I finally see the doctor.
I get up and walk for her, she nods in recoginition. I explain that I had radiation, that both my oncologist and the rad oncologist said I needed it.
I tell her, "My oncologist had said, "Why aren't you in radiation?""
"Because I cut out the bone!" the doc replies with an air of defeat.
(Remember, the oncologist had explained that surgeons like to think they got every little cell. Taking radiation is like telling them they may have missed something and it questions their skill. Well, I'm in battle here. I will take all steps necessary. I'm not going to risk another tumor just to prevent hurt feelings!)
After that, she tests the strength of my right leg. She presses down on my knee and asks me to lift up. She presses on the outside and asks me to open. Presses on the inside, try to close.
At one point she says softly,"Oh, come on."
She was not happy with the weakness. I felt like I had disappointed a teacher. That feeling passed as I realized I am perfectly willing to put in the hard work necessary to rehabilitate myself but she failed to give me the tools. She had only suggested one exercise in the past. Not enough.
Finally, she writes the prescription (or should I say paragraph?) for physical therapy. Three times a week for a month. Will call the P.T. place down the street on Monday.
About those tests on the bone, she couldn't find them but was certain they'd been done. She'd call on it. If they weren't done, she'd ask for them again.
That's the latest.
The deacon from my church will probably visit me next week. He's involved in the homeless ministry so I bought some jars of peanut butter for him at the grocery store yesterday.
As the kids were helping put them in the cart, I joked that I pay the deacon in peanut butter when he comes to see me. Their eyes got big.
"Really?" they asked.
Silly kids. :)
Love,
Jeanette
posted by Mark Kappe @ 6:32 AM
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