I imagine you all spent the day wondering what was happening as I ventured to the doctor. Confident of my diagnosis, I smugly sat in the waiting room. I waited. I waited. It was an hour, but I knew that this appointment would fly by once I assisted him with the answers to my bitchy ankle.
We exchanged pleasantries as he asked what I did for a living and I shared that I am a writer. I didn’t want to brag about my side gig as a WebMD diagnostic expert. He would be experiencing it soon enough. As he started to explain the x-ray, I realized that he and I were not on the same page. With the limited mobility, tenderness, and swelling, he shared that I had torn a tendon. What? You mean, I was WRONG??? Color me confused. You know what I did, right? I asked him about the gout. I shared my research with him. Do you know what he said? Well, first he laughed and then he said, “That would be the last thing I would think of in this situation.” I paused and decided to listen to the solution to this issue. I was also excited about having chicken again since I thought it was exasperating the issue. You know, when I had gout.
Then he started spouting crap like “air cast for two weeks then physical therapy”, “no cardio”, and the kicker, “if you aren’t better in five weeks, we will do a an MRI to see how extensive the tear is” and the last blow, “it might require surgery”. Well, all my research was blown to shit and now I am stuck with this ugly air cast boot thingy that is bulky and ridiculous. Oh, and I can’t start my anti-inflammatory because I am having a breast biopsy on Tuesday. Delightful.
Here is what I learned……my pets are frightened of my air cast, the physical therapy staff remembered me from three years ago when I had my knee replacement (not sure if that is a good thing), and I really missed chicken. Oh, and that I can laugh at myself because most of the time, I am beyond ridiculous.