Monthly Archive for September, 2009

All the way to my doctor’s appointment yesterday, I wondered if I’d missed a memo.

I was leaving straight from Claire’s preschool, which puts me a little closer to the highway.  (I got the earliest possible appointment, and should have enough time to make it.)  Normally, I avoid a certain highway going certain directions at certain times of day, and as I looked at my car clock-radio, I could hear my husband’s voice chiding me.

“I can’t believe you don’t take the highway. It’s so much faster, and more direct!” he says, albeit in my head.

“Unless you’re stuck in gridlock,” I counter. “Who cares if it’s a straight line if you’re not moving, or if you’re trying to avoid playing bumper-cars with the other crazies?”

“You’re just not used to driving in rush-hour traffic anymore,” he says. “It’s not like this is abnormal.”

“Exactly. I don’t drive in rush-hour anymore. Why should I if I don’t have to?” I ask.

Even though this was a conversation in my head, I decided to let him win. How bad could it be? It’s almost 9am…it should be fine. If it is truly faster (the jury is still out on that one), I need every extra minute I can get. I hate being rushed, but there was no way to avoid this. I was just glad they had an appointment that matched Claire’s preschool schedule.

I headed toward the highway.  As I was taking the entrance ramp, I saw the parking lot before me. It’s not even moving! Great.

Luckily enough, I’d decided to take this entrance ramp, because there’s an escape route of sorts onto a side street. So, I took it.

No highway for me today!

Since I was already over in this area, I decided to take the ninja route which parallels the highway, just to see how far down the clog was. The traffic was backed up as far as I could see.

So, I ended up cutting across town and took the way I would normally go. This is the way my husband hates to take. It’s a little farther to drive (maybe…again, this hasn’t been proven beyond a shadow of a doubt), but almost always has no delays. Of course, with all my course-corrections, I’m a little behind schedule.

As I’m getting to the street I need, I see a construction sign warning me that such-n-such road is closed up ahead and that alternate routes are advised. Could I remember the name of that street where I make my turn?

No. I don’t need to know the name…I know where it is. It doesn’t matter anyway, because it’s either the street I need or it isn’t. Any alternate routes would have to be on past the construction. I mean, if it was actually the street I needed, isn’t that sign in the wrong place? It’s too late to turn back if it’s the street they’re talking about.

Sure enough, the road I’m on is down to one-lane with a flagger.  The road I normally take is the one under construction and completely closed.

Sweet!

After waiting my turn, driving through the construction zone and making up an even more creative route, I arrived at the hospital with few minutes to spare. As I’m walking to the building, I notice that the entrance I normally use is barricaded.

What is going on!? Am I missing something??

A parking lot of a highway, a construction delay, a closed road, and a barricaded entrance. “We tried to stop her at every turn, but she just kept going,” I could hear the gods whispering amongst themselves.

I found another way to get to the office I needed and arrived before my appointment. Luckily, I’d filled all the “new patient” paperwork out at home, so I wasn’t rushed.

So, how did the appointment turn out? What’s the verdict on my knee?

The good news: I really like my doctor, and I’m really glad I got to meet him. I was able to get my flu shot while I was there, so there is no added co-payment or expense to do that.

The I-suppose-it’s-good-news: The way my knee feels is normal for the type of injury I have.

The I’m-really-trying-to-spin-this-in-a-positive-way-but-it’s-kinda-bad-news: I have a “severely bruised bone,” and it’s causing trouble where the tendons attach. There isn’t anything they can do for my knee. It could take 6-months for it to heal. There isn’t anything I can take for the pain. There isn’t anything I should have done differently. (Besides going back in time and not falling, which can’t be remedied now…) I just have to avoid doing things that make it hurt.

And, after avoiding so many obstacles on the way to the doctor’s office…what’s a few more?

So, I broke down and made an appointment for my knee.

I think it’s officially been upgraded from “skinned knee fiasco” to more of a real “knee injury.”

As you may remember, I fell. I wasn’t doing anything exciting; I just fell.

That was three weeks ago.

Now, for the record, I tried to learn to be patient once, but it took way too long so I gave it up.  Maybe I’m not the best judge of how long something is supposed to take.  Still…three weeks seems a bit excessive, no?  It has physically healed on the outside.  The scab has come off.  It’s not infected (that I can tell).  But, I still can’t put any direct pressure on it.

Whenever I talk about my knee, it’s confusing and I need to whip out the whiteboard and draw diagrams.  If I say, “I can’t put any pressure on it,” that implies that I can’t walk on it.  That’s not true.  I can.  Going up and down stairs still hurts a little, but that’s not what I’m talking about.  I can’t get on my knees without there being excruciating pain.

This puts a crimp in a lot of what I do during the day.

(Insert horribly inappropriate jokes here…) 

I’m talking about buckling and unbuckling Claire’s car seat, helping Claire put away toys, and giving Claire a bath.

In fact, you’d be surprised at how much I use my knee.

So, it’s been three weeks.  That’s too long.  Tomorrow, I get to meet our new doctor and have him tell me that there’s nothing wrong with it.

I hope.