Two Weeks Down

It was two weeks today that an orthopedic surgeon took a look at the X-rays of my ankle and we discussed my various options. Surgery was not a first choice, though part of me just wanted to get it over with. Of course, it's not really getting it over with, because post-surgery rehabilitation (and rest) would still be part of the deal.

Instead, he recommended bed-rest, staying off my right leg as completely as humanly possible. So it's been two weeks now in a hospital bed, transferring briefly to a wheelchair and rolling around the house to get to exciting destinations like the bathroom and the kitchen. Mostly though, I lie in a hospital bed and watch TV. There's not a whole lot on in the afternoons, though I did enjoy watching all the Little League World Series games the past two weeks. This week and next there will be a ton of US Open tennis on the tube, but I'm not really that much into tennis. Still, any port in a storm.

Louise started school last week, and it looks like her autism class is going to have a lot more students this year. She'll be working hard, and could use some kind thoughts.

The good folks of Faith Presbyterian Church continue to be a big help. We've been getting meals, cards, even visits on a fairly regular basis. It's been great, and we continue to be thankful for their ministry.

I have about 10 more days of this before I get another set of X-rays and the ortho-guy decides what to do next. The possibilities range from, "You're healed! Pick up your pallet and walk." to "More rest. See you in a few weeks." to "Well, that's not working. On to Plan B." Whatever Plan B is . . .

I'll keep you posted.

When It Rains . . .

. . . actually, it's August in Texas. It never rains. But it does get hot. Real hot. Hardly an opportune time for the house air conditioner to go out, yet it has. Repairmen are crawling about today, replacing a compressor and a coil and getting ready to charge us $3,600 for the privilege.

On the plus side, we can now update our house listing to include "brand new A/C!" On the minus side . . . uh, I did mention what this was going to cost, right? Back on the plus side, it will be nice to have the house comfortable again.

Oy, what a week I'm having!

Gravity Is A Harsh Mistress

The congregation at Faith Presbyterian Church, like that of most mainstream Protestant churches, is getting older at an alarming rate. Over this year, a number of our congregation have found themselves laid up with various injuries, almost all of them stemming from the simple act of falling down -- broken legs, hips, arms, pelvises -- it got to the point that I suggested to our now-departed pastor that he skip his usual more spiritually-themed sermon and address common household safety, in a sermon I suggested he entitle, "Enough With The Falling Already!"

Turns out the joke was on me. About ten days ago, here in the house, I fell. Down the stairs. Bent my leg back behind me and sort of landed on my right foot and ankle. Hurt. A lot. As I laid there, assessing what parts hurt the most, I immediately thought of the joke about the Aggie who read that most accidents happen in the home . . . so he moved.

I tried to stand . . . and did! It hurt, and everything was stiff and sore, but I could put weight on it, and I figured if I let it rest and let nature do her healing magic, I would be OK. And I was, more or less. Got around with the help of a cane for about a week.

Now, a small digression to talk about health insurance. I finally became eligible for health insurance via the Federal Government around the same time I hurt myself (in fact, I sent in my enrollment papers the day before). But the applications have to wind their way through two bureaucracies (first the Feds, then the insurance company itself), and it turns out I won't be actually covered until next week (Aug. 12, to be precise). That's OK, I told myself -- I survived one week, I can certainly survive another. But since I wasn't going to get insurance help for a while, I figured I'd bite the bullet and visit one of those Urgent Care places (aka "Doc In A Box") for a quick exam and maybe some x-rays.

Turns out -- and here's where it gets funny -- I broke my leg. More specifically, the fibula, just above the little knobby thing at the bottom. I also have some displaced ankle parts, and he believes (though it will take an MRI to confirm) I also have multiple torn ligaments. He thinks I'll need surgery.

I asked the young doctor if the injuries were as severe as he detailed, how was it that I had been walking around, more or less, the past week? He said, "I don't know." So, I'm going to go with the theory that I am one macho dude who can tolerate excruciating pain by sheer force of will . . . even though the rest of my life is a stirring example of pretty much the exact opposite.

So the plan is -- get through this week. I did get one of those fancy walking boots from the clinic, which is helping me get around and reducing my stiffness and pain. Next week, my insurance will become active, and I can see a doctor. It also looks we're finally going to get furloughed at the IRS next week, too, so I will suddenly have health insurance and a ton of free time. I think I can make that work.

Speaking of the IRS, I got a promotion and a good-sized raise last week. It won't make a lot of difference this season, as it is kicking in just as we're getting furloughed, but it will be nice come next season.

So . . . be careful out there. And Enough With The Falling!