FIGMO's Follies

Last night I went to services. I was looking forward to going this morning, but I had too much paperwork to fill out for my podiatrist appointment this afternoon.

What am I talking about? A week and a half ago, one of my toes suddenly hurt a lot and was purple and swollen. My internist put me on a regimen of Keflex and said "If it isn't better by Tuesday, you need to see a podiatrist," and gave me a referral.

The Keflex got rid of most of the infection, but the tip of the toe was still red and hurt like all getout, so I called the podiatrist. The first opening was today, right after services.

After filling out four pages of questions about my medical history, I journeyed out to the doctor. His assistant took a bunch of x-rays of my feet. I was also asked to bring whatever shoes I normally wear. The good news:

1. The podiatrist said, "The problem is definitely not your shoes!"
2. He also said, "You are definitely not going to lose your toe."

The culprit was an ingrown toenail. He said the typical treatment is an in-office surgical procedure. He said he could do it right away, but I could not go back to work. If I couldn't abide by that, he said I could schedule it for another day.

Given that I wasn't working today, this was a no-brainer. Of course I had the procedure done today! He didn't think I would be able to get back into my shoes, but I wore my one-size-too-big Reebok sneakers Just In Case, and I had no problem. I was sent home with instructions and a few Vicodins. Oh fun.

At least I already have a bed wedge in place for my sore, heavily bandaged foot, and I can work from my bed tomorrow, so I'm all set.

Thursday night I couldn't sleep because I was crying from missing Lady so much.

Last night I decided that I'd try picking her up from Warren's and see how it went over a weekend. I am now able to bend enough to pick up her food and water bowls and wee-wee pads, which was the minimum I needed to be able to do to take care of her.

This morning I had an uncontrollable smile on my face as I reached over and petted the soft, fluffy mound of cottony, white doggie fur that is Lady.

We're having a heat wave, so this evening I pulled out a frozen doggie treat I had stashed away for such an occasion and put it on a paper plate by her dog food. What does she do? Takes the frozen bone off the plate and carries it into my bed. I tried taking her frozen prize (a bone-shaped icy block of whatever) back to its spot on the plate by her food, and she immediately took it back onto the bed, this time cuddling up next to me, putting it on my pillow. I was laughing hysterically by this time. As soon as she stopped licking it, I tossed it off the bed and onto some papers on the floor. This time she took the hint.

She is now happily going at her frozen bone-thing, and I'm in bed with some iced decaf and an ice pack on my bad knee. All is good at home.

The other day I went to the worker's comp dentist to have my teeth looked at.

The good news: I'm getting feeling back in my lower front teeth (the ones that lost it after I broke my jaw).

The bad news: It hurts, and it's going to continue to hurt as the nerves grow back.

I'm now in the "feeling congested" stage. The dressings don't need to be changed much, but my ears are blocked and my nose is all stuffy. The nature of the dressing on my nose is such that I now know what it's like to have a big moustache.

The "sinus headache" I had this morning appears to have been mostly a caffeine headache. The iced coffee I had seemed to nuke it rather quickly. Given that I had no coffee or cola yesterday, this doesn't surprise me.

I had recorded some movies for the purpose of keeping myself in bed, and now I'm slowly going through them. It's hard to see over the dressing, and when I have to ice my head, I am rendered into a state of "Helen Keller" because I can barely hear and cannot see through the ice pack.

Still, I can't begin to gloat about how I feel like a huge weight has been lifted from my body. I had been fighting what had amounted to a non-stop sinus infection for over half a year, and I feel a marked difference. My brain is still a tad foggy from the congestion, but various parts of me (even my foot reflexology points!) that had been affected are feeling great. My ability to focus my eyes has markedly improved, too.

Warren thinks I'm "brave." My mother does, too. IMHO there was no "bravery" involved. I didn't have to worry about the wrong organ being operated on, I didn't have to worry about being anything other than "intact" after surgery, and I knew there'd be no scars. At this point whether I work at home or in the office Tuesday will be more contingent on whether I need to change my dressing alot or whether I look gross than how I feel. I will likely do some work from home tomorrow just to take some pressure off myself.

My friend Phil, who is two weeks ahead of me in his own recovery from the same kind of surgery, suggested chocolate pudding as something easy and fun to eat. I expect to make some a little later, although right now I'm craving something not-sweet and am not sure how I want to deal with that. Yesterday's salad went down the easiest of the various parts of dinner, so I might try to make a wilted spinach salad with a raspberry or blackberry vinaigrette (yes, I have such stuff in my cupboards!).

As I continue to grapple with the sudden loss of two people who were each dear to me, along with the loss of Warren's brother, I look for signs of life.

Yesterday Warren and I went out to the stable where dimakoi's roommate keeps her horse. dimakoi was in charge of feeding that day, so we were getting our "horse fix."

There's something about inter-species interaction that I really enjoy. Connecting with another being who has their own, very different way of communicating really thrills me. I'm still learning "horse speak," which is different from "dog speak" or "cat speak." When a horse leans over to give me a "hug" or a "kiss," though, there's no mistaking that for anything else (yes, horses "kiss"). The horses seem to like me, which makes me feel good. Dogs and I already have a good rapport; somehow they can tell I'm a "dog person" (or an "animal person").

This morning and afternoon I've spent extra time on Lady. She's overdue for a haircut, and I was debating whether to try to do it myself. There's something calming about just brushing her for both of us. She rests patiently while I groom, and I get to handle lots of soft, white, cottony doggie fur. There's something soothing about the "doggie love noises" she makes. I've got a killer headache right now. I suspect the weather is playing a strong part. I don't know whether I want to try to eat something spicy to get endorphins going (which could also aggravate my jaw pain and won't help my weight) or try to sleep it out (I'm not at all tired).

With all the stuff going on around me it's easy to forget to take care of oneself. I don't dare do that. I've got a small white creature depending upon me.

Today I went to the lead Worker's Comp doctor for a checkup. He said they got a letter from the Worker's Comp insurance company saying they didn't "approve of Dr. Lee." Neither the doc nor I had any idea who this "Dr. Lee" was that they didn't approve of. Tomorrow I have to call my agent and find out what they want from me now (rolls eyes).

I got home to find out that my upcoming sinus surgery is on hold because of my health plan. According to the gal at my ENT's office, "the insurance company will only approve one code at a time" and they won't schedule anything till they get the approval. The latter part makes sense, but the "only one code at a time" part is ridiculous. One of the things I need to find out is whether the blockage is related to the face injury (yes, it's possible). According to the forms, they can schedule the surgery when it is inconvenient for me, and if the operation date doesn't work and I balk, they'll charge me $75! Eeep.

According to the form faxed to me this morning, I have to stop all NSAIDs (read: no Ibuprofen) for two weeks before the surgery. One of the things I need to find out is how anal-retentive I need to be about this. Tylenol doesn't kill the pain in my jaw.

The one bright spot of the day: At the Worker's Comp doctor's office they tested my vision. It came out 20/15!

If any of you would bring me some Sugar-Free Extra Strength Fisherman's Friend lozenges, I'd be forever grateful. I will happily pay you at LEAST what it cost you to buy them (hint, hint).

For reasons I cannot fathom, Fisherman's Friend doesn't distribute the Extra Strength Sugar-Free lozenges in the U.S.

This is Not A Good Thing.

One of my nicknames in high school was "Rudolph" because my nose was perpetually red. I used to get horrid sinus infections every month that were more regular than my menstrual periods. The way I'd rate the infection was by how many boxes of tissues I was going through per day. If I were on the east coast today would have been a "two box" day (I'm hypersensitive to cold).

They wanted to put a photo of me in the yearbook where I was holding my purse in one hand and a huge box of tissues in the other. That was the way I had to walk around school. Yesterday I awoke with a sore throat; by the end of the day I had so much trouble breathing I had to sleep sitting up and opted to not eat latkes because I didn't think I could get them down. I was walking around the house with a box of tissues that is now 3/4 gone.

This morning I couldn't do my neti-pot flush because my sinuses were so swollen. All day I was travelling around with a box of tissues -- first to the vet because Lady is ill (the vet thinks she's got seasonal allergies), then to my own appointment with my ENT, then to get various meds and supplies. Instead of hauling my purse, I had a plastic grocery bag I was using as a tissue receptacle.

Just like in high school, my nose has already started turning red. Now that I'm medicated to within an inch of my life I might actually get some sleep. Last night I slept sitting up because I couldn't breathe any other way.

This past night I dreamed I was eating a hamburger. It wasn't even a good burger (never mind that I always like cheese on my burgers because I'm not terribly fond of burgers in the first place); it was from one of those fast-food joints, only someone had the good sense to remove the pickle.

What made the dream special was that I was able to eat it.