“That’s Just Torture”
An MRI at 8am on Monday morning. What was I thinking? In hindsight I clearly wasn’t thinking well at all, but was ready to figure out what was causing my pain. Somehow I made it to this ripe old age without needing to participate in this very advanced form of torture. Most folks with whom
I’ve discussed the attributes of this torture device seem to have had a few already. None of them, including my darling wife, thought it would be a good idea to prep me about what to expect. Even the technician failed to mention the 40 minute duration. She did hand over some earplugs which had me very suspicious before things began. Wow – that small tube that I can’t imagine myself fitting in – visions of exactly this cartoon flooding my brain. Deep breathing helped deal with that anxiety. But the aural assault with the echoing around the room – just ludicrous. Hopefully never again!
I had barely squeezed myself back into Penelope when my doctor called and summoned me to her office to review the MRI results. As I write this, I 
wonder why she couldn’t have provided those on the phone. Maybe she just wanted to see my reaction to the interesting news. What did it show that wasn’t visible on the x-ray from last week? A stress fracture of the left femur just below where it hooks into the hip. The good news is it wasn’t broken all the way through – only 75%. That explains why I was able to walk with pain and hadn’t gone directly to the Emergency Room. Before you all start telling me, I know the picture is of a right leg, but it was the one I found where I could draw the red fracture line easiest. How did this happen – I really don’t know – some combination of my body rejecting my attempts at Couch to 5K, Zumba, yoga etc.
My doctor sent me directly to see this guy for an expert orthopedic opinion on what to do about the break.
Dr. Haslam and his team seemed excellent and recommended having a couple of screws inserted through my hip area to aid the bones in healing. They fitted me with a set of crutches and sent me off to get some blood tests that were required before having surgery on Tuesday morning. At this point I was getting a bit tired of driving around in pain. On arriving at Quest diagnostic testing at 4:31pm, they closed at 4:30pm, and explaining the reason that I needed the test, I was rudely sent away. They were very clear to point out that if I had arrived a few seconds earlier then they would have been happy to see me. Unbelievable lack of caring. Another call to the doctor and I was bumbling across the parking lot to a hospital that would do the blood test. I arrived home around 6pm, thoroughly worn out from the day.
In the spirit of transparency, I should report an error that I made while at Dr. Haslam’s office. Realizing that Diana was at the dentist having a crown fitted, and that she was probably wondering where I was and what I was doing, I sent a text saying “Brace yourself, this is not good.” That was it. It has since been pointed out to me that this was not a very helpful communication.
Surgery was scheduled for 7:30am on Tuesday. It’s amazing how quickly these things move when they need to. We chose a sport medicine facility where they did not see COVID-19 patients, making us feel a bit safer. Diana dropped me off, and then was quickly shooed out of the waiting room. After a small meltdown about having to leave, she was promised regular updates from the front desk, and would be able to join me in the recovery room.
After parting with Diana, it was the pre-op flurry of activity. Getting all prepped up, meeting with doctor, nurses, anesthesiologist, and having space-age compression socks fitted. Through these conversations I learned that I’m somewhat of a celebrity now in the orthopedic community. Several folks commented that they had never heard of anyone with a broken femur walking into a doctor’s office. Usually they are in tremendous pain and go straight to the hospital. Surgery began at 9:00am and was finished up around 10:20am. I didn’t have any of the loopiness that I usually associate with coming out from under general anesthetic – much to McD’s disappointment. I convinced everyone that the pain was sufficiently under control a bit before noon and we headed home. Diana did have to stop in the parking garage as soon as we were out of sight to get me one of my pain meds. Yes – I was in a rush to get out of there.
Back at home I settled into my spot and enjoyed the pulsing contraction and release of the compression devices. They seemed fun to begin with, but as I write this I can assure you I am very tired of them and looking for a suitable place to throw them. Diana is very rigorous about making sure I wear them for many hours a day to prevent blood clots. Thanks D!
It seemed fitting that the Blue Angels did a fly over of hospital facilities throughout the Dallas Fort Worth area to recognize all the doctors and nurses on the front lines.
A very nice tribute!
Diana headed out for a run on Wednesday morning – just to rub it in that she was still all in one piece. I worked a normal day and only needed a few of the lighter pain killers to make it through. I count myself very lucky to have been referred to a great surgeon, and to have caught the break before it completed its journey. A lovely gift basket with lots of my favourites showed up on Wednesday afternoon. Thanks Damon and the rest of my team.
Thursday was another typical work from home day with lots of helpful coffee and food service from Diana to my inside and outside landing spots. Some gorgeous flowers arrived from my boss and the executive team. I was especially ready for our work virtual Happy Hour in the evening, and it was very entertaining.
On the gift front, we also received these humourous cookies from our financial advisor. Is that really supposed to make us feel better about our retirement funds?
Brad told his amazing Irish wolfhound about my injury and then sent this picture and message. Now that really did cheer me up:
Diana picked up her Mother’s Day brunch kit from Rye on Friday afternoon. She did a trial run for dinner on Saturday night, with my only real contribution (other than cheer leading) being the poached eggs. The pork belly and kale benedicts with hash browns turned out very well. They’ll be even better for Sunday brunch.
I spent a pretty boring Saturday, mostly on the couch, catching up on some TV and magazines. I did enjoy the ESPN documentary, “Bad Boys”, about the 1989/90 Detroit Pistons NBA Championship team. It was very well done and took me back to when basketball was a lot more fun to watch than these days. I also managed to catch up with Finn and Will by phone to update them on the week. Will told me all about how he and his friends are taking advantage of the empty roads to practice their driving and riding skills. The video won’t upload for some reason – probably just as well.
We watched some of “Becoming” on Netflix with brunch for dinner. This is a documentary about Michelle Obama’s book tour. Watching the various clips of the Obamas during their time in office made us both groan about how far we have fallen.
We had some fancy French toast for Mother’s day brunch – part of the Rye kit. You had to soak the eggy bread in creme anglaise before grilling, then add raspberries and macadamia nuts – very tasty. After that we participated in the Campagna Mother’s day Zoom call which Clorinda enjoyed very much. That’s Francesca, the newest edition to the group, in the bottom row.
I haven’t done much reading this week but intend to start the Robin Williams biography (a very fat book) when I head out to join Diana by the pool later today.
The excellent Jason Isbell has a new album, “Reunions”, coming out soon. I’ve been enjoying the preview singles very much:
“Billions”, one of my favourite TV shows, returned last Sunday night. I’ve watched the episode twice now as I always miss some of the key details the first time through. This angry Patti Smith song featured in the episode as Taylor has a destructive fit in a rage room.