Somewhere in my frantic attempts at education, I ran across the term "the river styx", and i think it had something to do with crossing over into death. If you knew me, you would know no matter what health condition I am in, I say fine, or mustn't grumble if i am in pain. If i take to my bed, as I have since Monday, I think I am dying. Not the good kind where you actually die, but the slow long suffering of a diabetic whose body has given over to infection again.
Yes, I am still referring to my knee, the one i fell on in the beginning of the summer. Now I am waiting, in NHS time, to get further ortho help. The renal consultant through some antibiotics at it, and it helped, so he stopped those. Then he called in an ortho whose advice was to x-ray the area, although the x-ray the day i fell showed no breaks, in fact, i walked into the ambulance. But ok, we got another x-ray, and guess what? nothing is broken.
So now I am on the NHS guest list to get another shot at the ortho who heroically suggested an x-ray. To say I had little confidence in him, but I must go through channels to get help is both truthful and frustrating. It seems these days they treat you until they go above their expertise and then just pass you over. Meanwhile my knee is huge and purple and angry again, and little infections are springing up in places you don't want infected.
I thought dialysis would clear these types of things up, but no such luck, and so in my extreme paranoia i see my leg being chopped at the knee. That would clear the infection, no doubt. SO I am back to my bed. I get up for a drink this am, and was so thankful JIm wasn't nagging me about extra chores while i am ill. Guess why? every room in the house is a tip. I could use some of those hyper-active meerkats just now. I could use a good cry as well, but neither is coming, so the dishwasher is running and the wet clothes are hung, sorry gang, that is me back to bed a few hours.
I worked so hard to get out of the bed and learn to walk again and dress myself, I can't imagine feeling more like a loser than i do today. Thanks for listening, better days are coming.
Blessings.
Yes, I am still referring to my knee, the one i fell on in the beginning of the summer. Now I am waiting, in NHS time, to get further ortho help. The renal consultant through some antibiotics at it, and it helped, so he stopped those. Then he called in an ortho whose advice was to x-ray the area, although the x-ray the day i fell showed no breaks, in fact, i walked into the ambulance. But ok, we got another x-ray, and guess what? nothing is broken.
So now I am on the NHS guest list to get another shot at the ortho who heroically suggested an x-ray. To say I had little confidence in him, but I must go through channels to get help is both truthful and frustrating. It seems these days they treat you until they go above their expertise and then just pass you over. Meanwhile my knee is huge and purple and angry again, and little infections are springing up in places you don't want infected.
I thought dialysis would clear these types of things up, but no such luck, and so in my extreme paranoia i see my leg being chopped at the knee. That would clear the infection, no doubt. SO I am back to my bed. I get up for a drink this am, and was so thankful JIm wasn't nagging me about extra chores while i am ill. Guess why? every room in the house is a tip. I could use some of those hyper-active meerkats just now. I could use a good cry as well, but neither is coming, so the dishwasher is running and the wet clothes are hung, sorry gang, that is me back to bed a few hours.
I worked so hard to get out of the bed and learn to walk again and dress myself, I can't imagine feeling more like a loser than i do today. Thanks for listening, better days are coming.
Blessings.
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