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railentheIn the nearly two years now since I hurt my leg originally, there have been a lot of doctor visits and a lot of speculation, and a lot of treatment of symptoms, with a certain degree of inability to find causes for the problem.
Almost a month ago exactly now, I hurt my knee again. Knowing that there would be more trouble if I didn’t go to the doctor than if I did, I went in and had the knee looked at. Anyone who’s been here often since then remembers the janky diagram I made using slashes and the ‘absolute value bar’ symbol to illustrate what my knees were doing. The painkiller I got in response to that injury, to be taken until I got to the referral appointment, caused agonizing side effects that required me to stop taking it and turn to alternative remedies.
Today was my referral appointment. I woke up at around five this morning with a soreness in my leg and a crunchy pain in my jaw. The knee would eventually shut up, but the jaw pain—well, that’s my TMJ disorder acting up on me.
I thought it was a migraine at first, but 1) there was no nausea, 2) there was no aura, 3) it’s on the wrong side of my head, and most importantly 4) I can’t move one side of my jaw. I took two Alka-Seltzers for that and will cross my fingers.
Nine AM arrived and so did my shuttle. I hopped in and was transported two towns and three zip codes over to an orthopedic clinic that I can tell you wasn’t there two years ago—ah, local progress. Problem was, there was some confusing stuff going on and so there was a delay. I was glad I’d brought my Nook Tablet. When reading began to render me drowsy I forced myself to try Sudoku puzzles. I cleared one and only used 30 hints!
I didn’t enjoy getting weighed. I’ve crossed the 150 lb mark. 150.3, to be exact. I don’t look like it, but frankly that’s too high for my height. I need to lose a dozen pounds—or convert it into much, much muscle. My BMI’s 28.4. Normal range for my height is between 19 and 25. Most of you have seen my convention pictures—remember that tiny woman in the pink kimono and hauling a Turtwig? Did she look borderline obese? I didn’t think so. That’s me. I think it might be time for a professional fitness assessment. Numbers alone are wonky now. Even so. I’ve never weighed this much and it makes me feel kinda paranoid. Anyway back on topic:
By about noon, I was getting x-rays done. The place was cold. The x-rays didn’t take as long as I thought they would—especially considering that the imaging was digitized, unlike in the last place I went. But then I had to wait in another room. After overhearing an obvious mistake (No, I wasn’t in the middle of receiving a steroid shot and therefore just about on my way out the door, thanks, now could I get seen by the doctor please?) the doctor finally saw me.
The next few minutes were: small talk, small talk, small talk, flex leg, get the “Uhh, that ain’t right” look. Questions, about the initial injury and then the December reinjury. I explain exactly what I felt/heard during that injury as we look at my x-rays. I’m asking questions the whole time, noting that the little bit of space that should indicate the presence of cushioning fluid and cartilage is not there—I’ve got bone-on-bone-on-bone. I’m no doctor and even I can see that ain’t right. I explain that both times now, the kneecap’s dislodged itself without outside contact
“Straighten that leg out for me?”
I do so. Poke, poke prod—
—slide—
“Yeowch!”
It didn’t take much to knock that knee loose. Luckily, the doctor’s hand was right there, so it didn’t finish that slide out of joint. We prod it back into joint and resume testing its range, as well as the rest of the leg’s range, noting that bizarre thing it does where it doesn’t hinge forward properly. And that one thing where it hinges side to side, which knees aren’t supposed to be able to do.
—stick—
We’ve gone from entirely too much movement to the kneecap going “Like hell am I moving that way.”
“Won’t let me move it that way, huh?”
“It’s nothing I’m doing, sir—I can feel it knocking into something and not moving.”
“Okay, I think I’ve just about found the problem. I need some more information, though. Tell me everything that this leg does that seems, as you put it, ‘stupid.’”
I happily oblige. There’s more poking, more prodding, another slide, another stick, and then a poke at a zone on the leg that I’m fairly certain I’m supposed to be able to feel but am only aware of because I’m looking at it. I say as much as he does a couple more things to the leg.
“Yeah, I think we found it. Technically.”
Um, that sounds a little wonky. “Technically?” I parrot.
“Yeah. That ligament’s gone.”
I know one of the younger nurses heard me and that’s why the giggle when I said “Um—whut?”
“There’s nothing there.”
Suddenly I remember one part of the injury: a loud TICK! noise and a snapping sensation that happened while my bosses stood me back up when the knee went out, followed by a stabbing sensation in the leg that lasted two weeks. I recount that detail.
“Yeah, that’s probably when it went. As it goes, right now, there is nothing there. Your patella’s tracking wrong because that ligament—it’s basically the support cable for the knee, and without it there, your leg’s turned itself that way to hold the knee into the groove the bones make. And now the tendon in that leg is overcompensating for the absence of that ligament—and that is why that nerve in your leg is on fire. Now, normally, we’d hit this with physical therapy and it’ll rebuild and repair, but this thing keeps going out without outside trauma—and that’s not supposed to happen. We’ll have to do something about it.”
“Huh!” So now we have our answer. “What do we do about it?”
“Well, there’s about five solutions to this one.”
“Yay!”
“All of them involve surgery.”
“Oof.” Just because I’m curious, I ask for details.
“Well, we’ll need an MRI to see which approach we go in with, but we’ll either take a cadaver ligament or pilfer some from elsewhere in your body to rebuild that support structure—but we can fix it. We can rebuild that knee and make your leg stable again.”
At this point, I’m doing two things: 1) internally lol-ing at the fact that the doctor actually did use the term ‘pilfer,’ and 2) thinking “Well, now what?”
As I’m about to ask “Now what?” I’m given two scrips: one for an MRI arrangement and another for a specially-fitted brace designed to ape the function of the missing ligament in my knee. So I’ll be going to get a new knee brace soon, one that will fix the actual problem.
And after the MRI I’ll probably be fitted for CADAVER LIGAMENTS.
I should be terrified of all this crap—bone damage! Nerve damage! NO LIGAMENTS IN THAT LEG! SURGERY!!!—but you know what? I’m just glad that, after all this time, I have proof that this is NOT all in my head.
Now if the swelling in my face will go down, I’ll feel awesome.
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THAT HAS GOT TO HURT LIKE A MOTHER
Date: 2012-01-18 12:21 am (UTC)How are you feeling about the idea of cadaver ligaments? (If it were me I'd be conjuring up some bizarre history involving it belonging to a former pirate who wore horrendously loud hawaaiin shirts and wanted to be a can-can dancer in their youth.)
I'M MORE SURPRISED THAT IT DOESN'T MOST OF THE TIME, ACTUALLY.
Date: 2012-01-18 12:46 am (UTC)I'm telling you, looking at the flexed-joint x-ray resembled a slightly-bent pole. There was no differentiation between the bones. All of them ran together, with naught but a seam delineating separate.
...A visual would help: picture one of those anatomy-study mini-marionettes, and remove some of the space in the leg joints. That's my leg.
I'm actually thinking that the cadaver ligaments are a better idea than pilfering my own tissue—I don't know if there's enough ligament in one zone to do the pilfer successfully. Unless they can tie bits of ligaments from other parts of my body like a rope to make enough to reconnect the thing.
Maybe they can give me the delicious connective tissue of an aspiring genius writer, cut down in his prime by some exotically-named ailment.
Or maybe a pastry chef's.
IT UPSETS ME THAT FFIX DOES NOT HAVE PILFER AS AN ABILITY
Date: 2012-01-18 12:57 am (UTC)Why the hell does my brain imagine bones and cartilage looking like meringues!?
Well at least reparations can be made. I mean as much crap as that leg gives you, it's good to know that it can still work rather than hacked off, right?
Yeah the idea of ligaments tied together like ligaments probably will not be a good solution. Visually amusing perhaps, but not as dependable as a full working ligament from elsewhere.
Hey, Jecht needs those ligaments to indulge in epic slash!
THE MAN IS SURPRISINGLY FLEXIBLE.
Date: 2012-01-18 01:14 am (UTC)Oh hells, I'm overthinking this when I'm looking at the prospect of major surgery in ways that it relates to ASPECTS OF PASTRY COOKING. I'm either insane or slowly turning into—LE GASP—an actual chef.
The fact that there's options aside from "OK LET'S CHOP THE DAMN THING OFF GUYS" makes me strangely giddy. I wanna jump up and go YAY but the muscles that are overcompensating for lack of ligaments (…lackaments?) go straight into spasm when I think of it. So instead I think I'll make a hot steamed sweetened milk. Or something. I want sweet but I don't want cold. Steamed milk or a hot malt both sound awesome right now. Either way I gotta celebrate somehow.
That option would probably also make for brittle resulting ligaments, and they might just snap like the originals seem to have done. Then we'd be right back where we started. (The good news is that this happened at work (again) and so guess what? *points to awesomeface* Not Mah Moneh. At least most of it is Not Mah Moneh.) I'll not soon forget that noise the thing makes when it pops apart. Oddly, that of the ligament itself, compared to the dislocation of the knee, was almost totally painless. It just felt WEIRD.
…thanks. Mental image of Flexible!Jecht. I'm gonna go drool now. |D
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Date: 2012-01-18 01:25 am (UTC)Steamed milk sounds good. I might go make some hot chocolate now if we've got enough milk. *goes to check the fridge* Also I should not be thinking "OH DEAR GOD DID I JUST MIX VODKA WITH MONT'S WATER!?" just because I mixed some clear looking liquid in a glass my ma left (which I sniffed to make sure) to top up Mont's water glass. I'm pretty sure I haven't unintentionally spiked her drink because she always plays with cherries and tries to sit on the keyboard but I guess I'd better change it anyway to be on the safe side.
Yeah, I can imagine that ligament repairs would be a verrrry pricey procedure so the fact that it's not coming from your wallet is a boon. It's strange how some of the most damaging things we can do to ourselves don't feel as painful as they should. I managed to play air hockey right after I broke a bone in my wrist like it was nothing.
In my head Jecht does yoga. Au natural. Have fun with that.
OH SWEET MUSCULAR MERCY.
Date: 2012-01-18 01:46 am (UTC)The only reason I haven't done it yet is because I have no idea where my houseshoes are, and the floor's chilly. I'll be getting it soon because my last meal was at three this afternoon and even with a sore-ish jaw, I need nourishment—and hot sugared steamed milk is always good for it.
I suddenly have an image of an even-sillier than usual Mont lolling about the house. Better safe than sorry, I reckon—say, does she eat the cherries? Supposedly, cats can't taste sweet, but I've met an amazing number of cats that seem to enjoy things like sugar-butter toast, jelly, and in one weirdo's case, cupcake icing.
IT'S SO WEIRD. I went to the doctor because, well, I would have been ordered to anyway, and even though lately it's just been the occasional flare-up, if I hadn't I would have never known that OH HEY, MY KNEE IS MISSING PARTS!
Also. Air Hockey is Serious Business.
.;alkdfj;alkdfj.
Nekkid!Jecht. Yoga. Sudden mental image of Kuja walking in on the 'graceless lout' (as he puts it) in the middle of the Sun Salutation sequence.
Yum.
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Date: 2012-01-18 01:53 am (UTC)Ah missing shoes syndrome. It's weird how those shoes manage to walk more than I do, even when my feet aren't in them! (By which I mean they're always being moved to the point that they are probably animate when I am not looking. I need to find them now that I think about it...) Mont only plays with cherries because they're small round things with bits sticking out which for a cat is a brilliant toy. She doesn't eat cherries but she has tried chocolate (how it didn't poison her I do not know) and cake in the past. She's also drunk cold tea. Though mostly she steals savory snacks such as cheesy biscuits, Twiglets (kind of a marmite coated wheat snack), baguette and peanut butter sandwhiches. In short she's a snack snatcher.
Poor Kuja. His pretty pale face would be ruined by a fountain of scarlet once he walked in on that.
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Date: 2012-01-18 02:10 am (UTC)NOW THAT I UNDERSTAND THE QUESTION
I could try but I'm not very good at drawing anything at all that isn't an inanimate object or a very basic sketchy map. I might be able to find someone to do it.
marmite coated wheat snack
I might go downstairs and buy a bag of pretzels now just to dip them in my Marmite jar. That sounds delicious. You're right on about cats loving small round things. I almost lost a hair decal like that: it was one of those things that has two stretchy sides and sparkly balls on either end.
I've had cats steal my Tension Tamer tea before. The stuff's good: chamomile, ginseng, mints, catnip and other things. I once turned around to see a cutscene in a game my best friend was playing and when I turned back around, the cat had walked off with my empty mug on his head. He'll also steal buttered toast. And plain toast. And the butter in general.
TWO WORDS, KUJA: COLD SHOWER.
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Date: 2012-01-18 02:20 am (UTC)Here's the Wikipedia article on it. Mont loves twiglets so whenever someone opens a packet, naturally she must have some. I might actually go and get some if we've got any left. (Mont's just bounded off my lap so I guess I have to.)
I've had Mont steal bread while it's hanging out of my mouth on several occasions. She'll also try and eat from your plate if you don't force her off the table. And the other week there was the case of the butter licking... Basically I was heating up some croissants, got a bit of butter ready on a plate, covered the butter dish because Mont has been known to go for it when left unguarded and went to get a cup and saucer for tea only to turn around and notice a very pleased with herself Mont licking her lips (well...the cat equivalent of) from my poor defiled plate.
NOW HE KNOWS HOW THE REST OF US FEEL.
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Date: 2012-01-18 02:37 am (UTC)Suddenly: JECHT AS PINUP MODEL.
Looking at that article, I might be able to recreate that sort of taste using a recipe I have for soft baked pretzels!
…apparently cats and bread theft is a thing. I've had cats steal french fries. Mostly cheese fries. They don't steal as much if I've managed to salt them already, but I've got to move fast.
YOUR CAT'S A NINJA.
Two weeks: there's no problem with sharing hot water, as Kuja has been taking ICE BATHS.
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Date: 2012-01-18 02:47 am (UTC)Good luck with that. Sadly we're out of twiglets but I did find some Doritos. Mont will eat those too so I'd best watch out.
Mont eats fries too. Not chips; they're too big for her. But fries, yes. It's the salt lick she's after.
THIS WOULDN'T SURPRISE ME. I MEAN I'M PRETTY SURE SHE CAN TELEPORT AND SHE CERTAINLY LURKS LIKE ONE...
The things he will do to keep his complexion perfect. It's not like he even ages anyway! (I guess this is probably yet another reason why he and Ulti don't get along. She'd do anything to prevent getting old and remain young forever whilst Kuja has it already.)
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Date: 2012-01-18 03:03 am (UTC)Mmm, Doritos. Now I want some, but I don't feel like walking through rain and COLD. I'll have a baked potato instead I guess XD
FRY-STEALING FELINE NINJA.
And thus the return of his subtle trolling hobby. The next fix he loves so much (allegedly)? Extra-virgin cold-pressed malboro oil.