The thing about pain is that it's relative to the person. Doctors have that little frowny face chart, but what is a 9 for some is a 5 for others. For instance, my frowny face chart only goes up to about a 7. Somewhere in the 8-9 range is a puking face, and 10 is a blackout.
Lately, I hover around the 6 range. A progressive degeneration of multiple conditions, most of which I'e been complaining about on here for years. Add in an A1 titer, and I've been tested for everything from Shogren's to Lupus to cancer.
I have heard every comment. You're the youngest old person I know. You're too young to be falling apart like this. You should just try stretching more. And then there's the dreaded... Well, if you lost some weight.
And if that wasn't enough, it messes with your head. And soon you're cancelling things you used to love to do. You don't try and meet up with friends. Depression sets in. You start to debate whether it really is all in your head. Every trip in and out of a store is carefully planned as to not spend any extra time on your feet. Laundry is planned, time is scheduled for icing, elevating, stock is bought in Advil, and the house goes to hell in a hand basket. You ignore the sharp pain, shake it off. You get bitter. You rationalize. You bargain. You suck it up... power on. And eventually, you go to the doctor.
I scheduled specialists this time, based on my gut instincts, instead of doing the run around and simple answers route.
I went to the podiatrist. After one look at the x-rays and he said, "That's not going away without surgery." Turns out four years of therapy exercises, cortisone, daily ice, and custom prosthetic insoles, none of it would have ever fixed the problem.
I went to a hand specialist. He shot me full of cortisone, which was fabulous, and sent me to Boston University for further testing which revealed necessary surgery on both hands.
I went to an internal specialist. And after nearly passing out from the pain of the exam, turns out I need scar tissue removed, several cysts, and some biopsies done. Organs will be removed if necessary. That surgery has already been scheduled.
Two weeks later the left foot with be done. I'll heal up after 2 months out of work, and once the hands are approved, go out for another month to have those done. Then, just as the snow and ice move in, I'll have the right foot done and be out until, um, somewhere in March. And while doing all this, I will be seeing a nutritional specialist, who will further test me for food insensitivity, so we can nail down the gastro stuff. Good times, really. I am not worrying that the paperwork will all get processed, or that I will have to go with out pay for months. I am just going to be hopeful that it will all work out.
Because then... then, I'll be good. Hopefully.
The husband will finally have the new and improved wife he's always wanted.
And I'll be healthy enough to chase him down and hit him for making the comment.
Scary and hopeful at the same time. That is a lot of stuff to handle all at once, but you will feel so much better afterwards. You are an amazing lady and I know you can do this. HUGS!
ReplyDeleteOMG, you are OBVIOUSLY defective--too bad your warranty has expired!!
ReplyDeleteChuckling jut a bit at Fishducky's comment, but really it is no laughing matter. I can't imagine having all that surgery, much less over the time fame you mentioned above. So in about 9 months, you should be "good to go" and hopefully feel much better, right? Make sure you get the boys and Tony to help you around the house while you are recuperating from these all and follow all doctor orders explicitly after the surgeries.
ReplyDeletebetty
Sometimes I really struggle with how some people get so much dumped on them. I have been very blessed, and it seems I bitch about it every day. World, I apologize. I will be praying for all of you- it looks like Tony's shoulders are going to be broadening over the next year...
ReplyDeleteOh yeah... lose weight.
ReplyDeleteThat takes care of the congenital defect that caused my ankles to form incorrectly.
I had several doctors decide that was my whole problem before they ever really examined me... 'You're simply the twin to Jabba the Hutt... you'd be alllll better if you were smaller.'
I won't be staying at any doctor's office again when/if I hear those words. I will explain why they're full of shit, make a comment like, "Wow, you went to medical school so you could become psychic? How the hell do you know what's wrong? Asshole!"
Unfortunately, my current crop of doctors is pretty good and I don't think they're going to use the 'lose weight' thing.
I hope everything goes well for you. It's not fun to wait and try to figure out what's wrong, especially when you can't make them listen.