Ouch, But...Yay!

Right knee has been bullied into submission thanks to pain control injections directly into the thrice-damned thing by my trusty pain doc. Today I can actually walk on it again, yay!

The injections sites hurt, and I didn't get much sleep last night, but today the over-the-top pain that I'd been dealing with since June has been thwacked into submission most of the way.

He wasn't able to drain the cyst, he said it was 'too spongy' (ick). That is something that may have to be cut out, time will tell.

We're BOTH Ailing!

'We' in this case meaning me and my computer.

It discovered it had a virus, despite my fortress of anti-virus software. J. managed to clear it up, but it was a tough, sneaky one and did something to my photo files so that now PhotoBucket hates my attempts at uploading pictures and refuses. Oh well, the new computer J. built for me is ready and waiting in the wings, so this weekend we'll get it in place and ditch this old one. I plan on donating it to the local school once we get it cleared up and empty.

I found out yesterday the results of the MRI on my right knee--it has a cyst (Hey, I was right!), both of the miniscus are GONE, and severe arthritis. So, the doc tells me, it's knee replacement time. Oh joy, major surgery. To top things off, J. had an aunt die from an infection after she had her knee replacement done two years ago--which up to now I knew was possible, but I'd never heard of anyone dying after getting a new knee before. She was in the hospital for many months--after the initial surgery and immediate complications, she had ANOTHER replacement done, then the infection just ran rampant through her--and never DID get to go home at all.

Why do these things happen RIGHT before school starts, and I NEED my damned knee? I don't have time right now so it'll have to wait till after school starts. Meanwhile, the little bastard hurts and isn't planning on letting me sleep anytime soon.

Yay for needlework projects to help keep my mind off pain.

Oh...Well, That Might Explain It, Then...

Just got back from my pain management doctor, told her about my last month of huge right knee pain. She took a look and seems to think I may have DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) going on in there. She compared the left & right leg and sees more swelling and redness in my right knee and calf than the left.

So, off to my regular MD I go this afternoon, for a Doppler Ultrasound of the knee to see if, indeed, I gotta a blood clot in there. Although it WOULD explain the shitty monster pain I've been having in that knee, I'd just as soon NOT have a new and possibly-fatal-at-any-moment issue going on. I have no desire to take blood thinners and/or go to the hospital, this kind of drama I do not need. Myself, I suspect there is not a blood clot and it's just my crappy knee flaring, but like I always used to tell dental patients with a confusing array of symptoms: there is no reason why you can't have more than one thing going on at a time. And DVT is nothing to ignore.

Please be wrong, doc.

Anyone Have A Spare Right Knee?

...because I'd LOVE to have one that isn't a painful mass of uselessness. Having to walk with a cane SUCKS, and damn it, I've got things to do. It flared up bad like this last summer, that time it lasted a solid month before going back to it's normal pain level just as suddenly as it had started with the mega-pain thing.

This time it's been at it since the beginning of May. I know it's got somthing to do with the inside tendons, and that it feels like some kind of cyst or something has formed. It's screwing up my sleep pattern as well.

Stupid knees. Stupid, badly designed knees. Stupid pain.

*grump*

More Origami Folding...

Since I've been sitting a lot recently trying to rest & heal the flare-up in my right knee, I've tried to keep at least somewhat busy doing some origami. The pain is pretty heavy-duty and cuts right through the painkillers, which can only do so much. So I've kept to the simpler folds.

First, some butterflies!

These were quite simple and are actually made from two sheets of paper, then joined with a dot of glue.

Next, some Bellflowers, using a diagram that came with the packet of origami paper---I added the stamens and freehanded a little simple leaf. These are quite striking when folded with multicolor paper:

I've also come up with my very own design, my very first; yay! So here are some Little Green Men:

They could, admittedly, use some finesse. But these little alien guys fold with (not shown here) or without fangs, and are quick, fun and kid-friendly. I used the first part of the classic crane diagram, then diverged a bit from there. I think it uses maybe 10 folds, max--I haven't diagramed it though. Am I mistaken in thinking there is a program that will do that...?

Purists beware: there is ONE scissor cut. But I'm sure with more fussing about I could eliminate it.

Random Cruelty From Strangers

Interesting event at Disneyland the other day, when we took N. for a last visit before school started. Since I just had another surgery on my left ankle--number 3 of 6 needed--and am still in the Frankenstein-esq orthopeadic boot, I was in the wheelchair--extended walking still being a no-no for the present.

Firstly, no one, but no one looks out for wheelchairs at The Park. I've never had so many people run into and/or trip over me as I did that day. J. was muttering seriously about installing a sharpened cowcatcher to the front of the chair. Also, since J. was pushing the chair, N. walked beside me and held onto my hand so she wouldn't get lost. Those people that DID allow room for the chair refused to allow the child to get by. It was weird.

Then there are the parents who I swear, go to Disneyland specifically to lose, injure or kill their own offspring. Unattended kids were the worst for running into the chair and hurting themselves. One little boy of around 3 even walked beside the chair for a bit, staring at the wheel. I could see it coming, and his mother was looking the other way, oblivious. "No!" J. and I both told him as he stretched his hand out. Yup. He did it anyway, stuck his little fingers right in the spokes of the chair. By then I was SHOUTING "No!". Luckily J. knew what was going on and stopped the chair fairly quickly, but the kid still got his fingers pinched but good. Mother finally did turn around and grab him by the hand and haul him away. Incredible.

But that wasn't the worst.

I waited for J. & N. to ride Roger Rabbit, then we all went out through the standard exit, J. pushing the wheelchair. At the exit was the Goofy unit, comprised of Goofy and his handler, a girl named Shannon. No one I knew at all. Shannon spotted me, immediately pointed at my injured leg, laughed loudly and yelled, "Hey, can I kick you in the other leg and make it even?"

I was so shocked I couldn't speak, and J. just looked at her and angrily kept us going. NEVER in my life would I have expected anyone to say such a horrible thing to someone in a wheelchair, much less a stranger.

It was so cruel, so unexpected, so unprovoked that it literally took my breath away.

She, of course, had no idea why I was in that chair, or if it was temporary, or forever. To say that the last 6 years have been agonizingly painful, frustrating, stressful and depressing is an understatement. It's been a VERY long road so far and the end is still not in sight. The work they'll have to do to restore even partial use of my left ankle is complicated and has only a partial chance of success.

Shannon's bizarre comment, unfortunately for me, opened up the floodgates of all the emotions I've been trying to hold back for years, trying to look forward and hope for the best. We didn't even get out of Toontown before I was crying, and J. was trying to both comfort me, shield me from staring, curious people and explain the situation to N., who was very upset that I was crying.

We did stop at City Hall and file a complaint against Shannon, and the guy at the desk was very sympathetic.

We got out of there as quickly as possible, the day ruined. Sometimes people are just no damned good.

Happiness ISN'T...

...getting your freakin' leg whacked open from stem to stern. Here comes a full-on whine: DAMN, MY LEG HURTS!!!

OK...that's better. At least yesterday I made it down to the doctor to get the 900 ton cast removed. Since I couldn't get my left leg into the car on the driver's side around all the gas/brake/emergency brake pedals, J. had to drive me. I took along my old friend, Das Boot (a Frankenstein-ish orthopeadic boot, complete with numerous adjustment knobs, heavy duty black velcro straps and steel reinforcements, it looks like something Q would invent) that I had from the original broken ankle back in 2000. Lucky I did, since they were nice enough to cut off the bulky cast and replace it with the boot, but with a no-nonsense steely gaze and stern instructions NOT to walk around without the boot, and then even only when strictly neccessary.

No problem there. Especially since walking feels like someone is cheerfully holding a red-hot poker against my leg, it's automatically self-limiting. Since they had to make an even bigger incision to remove the hardware than they do to place it, the current incision is something on the order of 10 inches long. J. inspected it last night and said, "Hey, now you've got another new scar!" Whoopee. I told him I was going to come up with an interesting story to go along with it, maybe involving a bar fight down at the docks or the time that little voodoo doll came alive and chased me around the house wielding a butcher knife. Hmmm....

Ya Gotta Think Like A Kid...

Tomorrow I go in for surgery...NOT my favorite thing...to remove the metal bar and 6 or 8 screws that are holding my left ankle together. Yesterday and today I've been trying to get the things done that require me walking/driving/leaving the house/being upright. Bank...grocery store...gassing up the car...the kind of chores I refer to as "killin' rats"--that is, things that have to get done, but nobody likes doing. I'm also digging out my Advance Directive paperwork to take along, much as thinking of that kind of thing is Big Time No Fun and makes me cringe a bit, it's gotta be done. My own personal take is: No heroic measures (which means no rescusitating me or placing feeding tubes if it means I'll be a vegetable and have no quality of life), and if I pass away I want to donate any organs they can use and cremate the rest of me. Strip me for parts and burn the rest, heck I'll be long gone anyway so I won't care. *L* J. has the same plans, although he still needs to officially fill out the paperwork. Hate that general anesthetic, *bleah*. I really am fascinated by surgery anyway so I'd prefer to be able to watch, but they don't allow it.

This evening I was out enjoying the grass and visiting with the chickens since I'm going to be in the house for the next few days/weeks (our house is raised and has no wheelchair ramps). Phoenix the rooster

 Ain't he cute? Goofy, but pretty!

came over to be friendly, so I picked him up, talked to him and petted him. I teased him a bit with my standard line as I gently felt his little meaty thighs, "Ooh, aren't we a yummy, meaty bird! Umm, yep he's just about ready to eat, FEEL those meaty little drumsticks!" Phoenix just gives me a "Sure, like you'd ever really eat me. I know you're full of BS." look and bears with it. N. came over and said, "Can I?" OK, I said, but gently. She does, feeling his thigh and saying, "Yum, ice cream!"

I was laughing so hard I had to set Phoenix down. Drumsticks=ice cream, in the mind of a 5 year old... :)