Extra, extra....read all about it!

It's two AM and I cannot sleep. Things had been going pretty well with the recovery of my hip but I have so much on my mind as of late, that it seems to be impeding my sleep. Surprise, surprise!

An update on the hip: my incision is still not completely closed and has started draining AGAIN. I swear that this is never going to stop. I also swear that I officially bleed yellow and not red like most humans. This yellow substance seems to be coming out of me in full force...and it has been over six weeks since my surgery. So I called the on-call doctor this weekend, who just happened to be my doctor, and he put me back on the antibiotics and I have to go back in on Tuesday. I am getting really irritated at this point. He also said that I should not be still draining and the wound should have healed by now, so he may have to go back into the operating room and open me up AGAIN to see what the problem is. Whatever. I am so done with this whole hip thing. It is getting old real quick.

As for what else is going on in my life? A whole lot of nothing.

I guess that isn't entirely true. I have been crocheting afghans like crazy...it keeps me busy. Also I have been walking around much more and have even left the house a few times that WERE NOT medically related. WOO-HOO!! I shouldn't make fun...it is progress. I feel like I have completely lost a whole summer, although I didn't get my surgery until later in July. It just seems like I have been housebound for so long, that before I know it, the holidays will be here and a new year.

I guess the upside to all of this is that I am in considerably much less pain than I have ever been in a long time. I am thinking maybe that the hip pain that I had been dealing with for the last year greatly impacted my RA as well, because recently, I feel great! So there is a silver lining, right? I am trying to stay positive and being in less pain on a day to day basis helps me to do that. I don't get bogged down with the anger, sadness, and overall depression of it all.

Well, I guess I have about covered most of the updates. I will try to start posting again more regularly. This is therapeutic for me.

Wishing you all great health and humor!

Can't read my...can't read my Poker Face!

It is funny. I am not sure why, but for some reason, I am under the impression that I can hide how I feel from people. As if I am not an open book when it comes to my physical and emotional pain. Obviously, since I am writing about this, that is NOT the case, but I think it is still humorous that I try and hide how I am really feeling.

Why do we do that?

Why is it bad to respond to questions like: how are you feeling? or how are you?

What is wrong with me that I think the people that care about me can't handle the truth?

Perhaps it is not that I don't think they can handle it, but maybe it is because sometimes I want to spare them "feeling bad" for me if I were honest. Also, sometimes I think they are just asking, not for the truth, but just to show concern and that they care about me.

My father asks me every morning how I am feeling. Some days I lie and say fine. Others I say okay. (Mornings are not that great for me all around) But he knows I am lying and he can tell every time. It is kind of infuriating. I wish sometimes that I could hide how I feel around him but I guess after being my dad for the last 33 years, he has learned to read me.

So I guess my poker face is not so great. Guess my dreams of becoming a high stakes poker player are out!! It is good that he can read me that well and that he still asks me, everyday, even when he knows I am lying to him...he still asks me. He is an awesome guy and a great dad. I am so thankful for him and my mother, I cannot even begin to express it. I am fortunate to have such wonderful people in my life.

Anyways, just some thoughts...

Wishing you all good humor and good health!

Oh, the hypocracy of the Hippocratic Oath!

Today I had yet another doctor's appointment with my Orthopedic Surgeon. Well, actually, it was with his Physician's Assistant (PA), who is a really nice guy, highly knowledgeable and pretty empathetic...all good qualities for those who are in health care.

Anyways, I arrived right on time, 10:30 am, as I like to be punctual (it is a control thing). My father was the lucky soul who got to drive me to the appointment, as my mother was feeling a little under the weather. He is not the most patient man, and quite honestly, not my first choice to take me anywhere where waiting is required. The man has ZERO patience. So I checked in and took my seat.

A HALF AN HOUR LATER...I hobbled up to the front desk to ask, as politely as possible considering I was in a little pain and the chairs in the waiting room were not all that comfy, when they thought I might be taken back to see the doctor as I had been waiting for over a half hour.

The "snippy" girl behind the glass, who was obviously not enjoying her job that day, tells me that I am next, but that my appointment was not until 11:00 am and therefore, I should be going back momentarily. I corrected her that my appointment was at 10:30. A little argument ensued and finally, I walked back to my chair, a little more irritated and wanting to walk out. Apparently, my appointment was written on my reminder card for 10:30 but put in the system for 11:00. This mistake apparently does not warrant an apology. Okay, whatever.

ANOTHER HALF HOUR LATER...my Dad walks up to "chat" with the snippy girl behind the counter. Well, let's just say, that it is not the smartest thing to do to get attitude with my father. A another little argument ensued where the girl informed my father that they were extremely busy this morning and had already seen 173 patients alone. My father's reply? "Perhaps you shouldn't schedule so many appointments if you don't have adequate time to spend with them. Just a thought." She didn't like my Dad or his suggestions...I could see it in the daggers she shot at him as he walked back to the chairs. I couldn't contain myself...I had to laugh. She assured my father that I was next in line.

TEN MINUTES LATER...my name was called. I jumped up and hobbled my way back behind the desk and followed the nurse to my little room. She asked how I was doing. "Honestly? I am a little irritated. I have been waiting for over an hour out there!" I explained what happened and she, like Miss Snippy upfront, told me that my appointment was at 11:00. I was not about to argue with another dimwit so I just shut up and followed her to my room. She told me to have a seat and the PA would be in shortly. He came in, was in my room for a total of three minutes, left and told me that everything looked great and we were right on track.

THAT'S IT?!?!

I wasted over an hour of my life (more like two hours if you include travel time to and from the doctor's office) for a three minute session with the PA (not even the actual surgeon) so that he could tell me that everything looked good and that he didn't need to see me unless something changes? EXCUSE ME?? WTF?? Why could he have not just asked me a few questions over the phone and made that determination??

So this leaves me to my question...should I send a bill to the doctor's office for my time? Don't you think that it is ridiculous that a doctor can post a sign that states "If you are ten minutes late to your appointment, you will have to be rescheduled", but yet they can make me wait for over an hour and barley apologize? I think that they think their time is more valuable than mine...and I AM PAYING THEM!!!

Here is a thought...the Hippocratic Oath, that all doctors take upon graduation of medical school, states that they will "do no harm." Well as far as I am concerned, I was harmed today with disrespect and rudeness.

It is stupid. It is frustrating. It is something that I guess we all have to deal with, because it will never change. I just think there should be some type of incentive for those who are on time or even early to their appointments, AND there should be some reimbursement for the time wasted on MY dime! It just seems like there should be a specific etiquette for doctors...kinda like the Hippocratic Oath, maybe they should have an oath to make sure that they treat us with the same respect we give them. They are NOT better than us and their time is NOT more valuable than mine. Just a thought.

Well, I will quit bitching...I know this post is angry and a bit negative, but I am not in a great mood. So irritating.

Wishing you all good health and humor...hopefully more of a sense of humor than I had today!!

I'm Baaaaack!

One month has lapsed since my last post. The last you had heard was I went for an MRI, which turned out to be a nightmare in itself, and well, let's just say that all hell broke loose after that.

I got a call the day following the MRI from my friendly Rheumatologist, Dr. Wu, informing me that I had a "non displaced femoral neck fracture" on my right hip. Yep...it was broken! According to the doctors after taking a thorough history, I had apparently been walking around on a broken hip for eight months to a year. Having Rheumatoid Arthritis I am in chronic daily pain, so I had no idea that this pain was anything to be alarmed about. I mean, come on, I am in pain all the time anyways, how was I supposed to know it was broken?

So she sent me to an Orthopedic surgeon the following day, which was a Friday and one day prior to my Happy Birthday party. My orthopedic surgeon is not the most desirable man and has a fairly odd bedside manner, however, seemed sufficiently qualified for the job. He immediately scheduled me for surgery the following Monday afternoon. They needed to put three large pins in my hip to secure the neck of my femur so that it didn't move and would have better time and support to heal. He said I would be in the hospital for a few days and by week two, I should be feeling almost no pain. I was jacked! No pain in my hip was something I have not experienced in a LONG time.



So that weekend, I had my BBQ, played with my friends and family and enjoyed my 33rd birthday overall. I was treated like a princess as everyone waited on my hand and foot. I kept telling them that I didn't need that, since I had been walking on it for the last year, what was one more day or two gonna do? They didn't seem to share my humor!

Monday came and I had the surgery...stayed in the hospital for three days...came home...and now we are three and a half weeks post op! It has been one hell of a three weeks. I have had some complications, I have visited the Emergency Room three times, been readmitted to the hospital for two days, and now have an infection in my incision. The pain has been pretty awful and I have still had to remain quite dependent upon my pain medication, but I am feeling like a ROCK STAR today, which is the reason of course that you are reading this. I have barely moved from bed for three weeks and between the haze of the drugs and the unbearable pain, I have not done much.

Having surgery is never a fun thing to do. I am not sure that I ever want to go through this again, but all I can say is that the only reason I have made it this far is because of my wonderful parents. They have been amazing through this whole thing. They are attentive and caring, and they truly care about how I am feeling and do their damnedest to make sure that I have everything I need. They cook for me, change my sheets, do my laundry, everything except wipe my ass! (Thank God, I can wipe my own behind and shower on my own) They are truly wonderful people and I cannot imagine having better parents or a support system in my life at a time like this. I will never be able to repay them for what they have done for me, but I will spend the rest of my life trying! I am blessed!

Well, I am off to go lay down for a spell...something I do quite often. I cannot wait for the days when I can :drive again, shop again, and cook and clean for myself again. I know it sounds ridiculous but it is something that an independent person such as myself has a problem letting go of. I look forward to the day I get my life back...and fortunately it is coming soon...very very soon!

Wishing you all good health and humor!

Itty-Bitty Living Space...

So I am going in for my very first MRI tomorrow morning. All I can think of in my head is Robin Williams voice as the Genie in "Aladdin" describing how he lives in a bottle..."Itty-Bitty living space!" Needless to say, I am not very excited. You know how people say they are claustrophobic but really they are just a little uncomfortable in small spaces, and then there are those who really mean it?? Well I am the latter.

I AM PETRIFIED OF SMALL ENCLOSED SPACES!!

It is not a joke. It is not just some little quirk that is supposed to be cute or even eccentric. No, my friends, I am deathly afraid of small or tight spaces. Even elevators and ESPECIALLY if there are several people all crammed into one elevator.

This reminds me of the time I went to the Empire State Building with my sister back in 1997. We had paid our admission to the top and waited patiently in line with several other people who were all just as anxious to experience this iconic fanfare that is known around the world. We giggled with anticipation and smiled as they began to load people on the elevator to go up the 86 floors to the observatory deck.

I watched as the man herded the visitors of all shapes and sizes into the square cube that would pulley us to the top. More and more, he pushed into the small cube as people awkwardly moved to make room for more people. I felt the hair on the back of my neck begin to rise. We were coming closer and closer to the man. Please, God, I hope we get the next ride up. I can't get on there with all these people.

As we moved through the velvet roped line, we arrived next in line. The man ushered us into the elevator, the last to be put aboard. I tried to find my voice to object, as the doors closed within an inch of my face. Slowly the elevator chugged into motion and we were off.

Long story short...by the time we reached the top, I barreled out of that elevator like the boogieman was on my tail and hauled ass across the room to try and catch my breath. I was drenched with sweat and anxiety. Let's just say, that I didn't enjoy my time at the observation deck, as it took several minutes to try and calm myself from the panic attack that ensued after that horrific elevator ride.

I told my sister that I refused to get back into that elevator and that I would walk down the stairs. Well, needless to say, she wouldn't let me, nor would the man who worked there, and advised me against it as well.

So going to get an MRI where they strap you down to a board and push you into a tube that is no where near a suitable size, and expect me to be calm?? I think not!

My doctor said she ordered an Ativan to calm me down 30 minutes before my appointment. Let's hope that it works. Because I don't think I can escape the itty-bitty tube like I did the elevator...but I am fairly resourceful. I may be able to figure it out!!

Wishing you all good humor and health!

Learn Something New Everyday!

I learned a new word the other day: Avascular Necrosis.

My Rheumatologist, Dr. Wu, saw me the other day. First off, I should tell you that she was none too pleased with me. She actually scolded me. So not nice. I mean, I know I was wrong, but come on...don't kick me when I am down!

Wait, perhaps I should tell you what is going on. So my hip is STILL bothering me, and it has only become worse. I was getting to the point where I couldn't put any pressure on it, and therefore out came the crutches. I have been on them for over a week. I knew I had a doctors appointment coming up, so I didn't call my Rheumy to inform her of the excruciating pain I was in...I figured we could discuss it when I got there later in the week.

Well, that was apparently where I went wrong.

She told me that the pain in my hip is not a normal RA pain like I have with flares. It is most likely caused by avascular necrosis, or bone death. Yep, I said bone DEATH.

Avascula necrosis is bone death caused by poor blood supply to the area. It is most common in the hip and shoulder. Mine is my right hip. I asked her what caused it. She replied most likely the prednisone I have been on for the last three years. Great!!

I then asked her how they treat it. She replied that a total hip replacement is the only real treatment, but I need an XRay and an MRI to confirm. I think this is when I started to swallow my tongue. There are no other options?? Well, apparently we need to determine how far progressed the bone has died and decomposed on itself to determine the course of treatment. They can inject it with a steroid if I am still in the early stages (fingers and toes crossed for this option) or possibly do a bone graft to the area to promote the bone to regrow and begin living again.

But I will be on crutches for at least the next six weeks she informed me, because she wants me to stay off of it. GREAT!! There went my summer.

I cried all the way home from the doctor's office, but now I am at the point of laughing about it. I mean, what else could possibly go wrong? I know I shouldn't ask that, because there are LOTS of things that could be worse, but you know what I mean. COME ON!! REALLY??

Oh well. I guess so I wait to see what happens. I go for my MRI on Monday. Then once those results are back, we will know more. So I will not freak out until then.

So wishing you all good health and humor!!

The Science of Sleep

Sleep. Something that we all need. Something that we all cannot live without. Something that happens in the nighttime (for most people that is). Something that apparently, my body doesn't remember how to do properly.

Last night was the fourth night in a row that I was not been able to sleep through the night. I wake anywhere from two AM to four thirty AM...wide awake and raring to go.

WTF? What is wrong with this picture?

Perhaps it is because I have been much more active over the last week with the remodel of my bedroom. Perhaps it is because the weather fairies have turned up the temperature knob to Uber-hot. Perhaps there is something going on with my RA. All I know for sure, is that I cannot sleep when I should be. It is getting pretty frustrating.

Lack of sleep makes me irritable. Lack of sleep makes me feel achy and sore. But most of all, lack of sleep makes me fat. Yep. I said it: fat. How does the lack of sleep make one fat you may be asking yourself? Well let me tell you. When I am not sleeping, I want to eat. I don't know why; it just happens. I found myself up this morning at four thirty AM and shoving my face with a strawberry Pop-Tart. Was I hungry? No. Did I need a Pop-Tart? No. That is why sleeping disorders cause people to gain weight. It is a proven fact. Look it up if you don't believe me.

I get anxious when I can't sleep because I think that I am going to go through another bout of insomnia. About two years ago, I suffered from the worst insomnia that I have ever experienced. I couldn't sleep for more than two hours at a time and was up all hours of the night. It was awful. I prayed for sleep. I wished for sleep. Hell, I even bargained for sleep with whatever God, saint, or spiritual being out there would listen to me. Nothing worked.

What did I do when I couldn't sleep? I baked. I baked cookies. I baked cakes. I baked a pie too. The problem was, that I was also eating most of these baked goods. Not so great for the waistline if you know what I mean. When it finally got back to normal, I never wanted to bake anything ever again. Actually, now that I think about it, with the exception of some Christmas cookies last year, I really haven't baked much since then. Oh, the injustice!! All because I couldn't sleep.

So tonight I will go to bed, a bit anxious and overtired, awaiting for the alarm clock to read an insane number, only hoping and wishing that it won't arrive before six AM.

Right. Like that is going to happen! We shall see though.

Wishing you all good health and humor...and a good night's sleep!!