Day One or You Bonehead!
Wednesday, March 9, 2005
After the exciting stint at the ER the night/morning before, sleep was high on my list of priorities, but first I had to make an appointment to see an orthopedic specialist. And I had to let my boss know that I wouldn't be in the office.
After making the appointment, leaving voicemail, sending email, and self-medicating with Percocet, I slept until the afternoon when I had to pick up my x-rays at the hospital and then go see the aforementioned specialist. Nurse Liz dons her chauffeur’s hat and squires me around from appointment to appointment.
Specialist #1 tells me that I’ve broken my shoulder (yeah, I figured that out already) and that he thought I might want to consider surgery.
WHAT?
Surgery? You’re kidding, right? I mean, I’ve never broken a bone before and now we’re talking surgery?
He says that he wants to show my x-rays to a colleague and that he’ll call me back and let me know what the deal is. We go home, armed with the second prescription for Percocet. The ER prescribed 20 pills. I thought that was a lot. This guy prescribed 50. Hmm.
I am now drinking gallons of water. I’m dying of thirst. Unfortunately, that which goes in must come out. I make lots of trips to the bathroom. I email my boss with gory updates. I research humeral fractures.
The specialist calls. They want me to go back in on Friday to see another doctor. Oh boy!
Every so often I think that maybe this is all a bad dream. Just the day before I was thinking that the worst thing that I had to deal with was the fact that my visit to the dentist produced the news that I need not one, but two root canals. And now…multiple doctors…mumblings about surgery…argh.
Liz has become Shopping Nurse Liz. She goes out for supplies.
Daily Percocet Intake: 7
After the exciting stint at the ER the night/morning before, sleep was high on my list of priorities, but first I had to make an appointment to see an orthopedic specialist. And I had to let my boss know that I wouldn't be in the office.
After making the appointment, leaving voicemail, sending email, and self-medicating with Percocet, I slept until the afternoon when I had to pick up my x-rays at the hospital and then go see the aforementioned specialist. Nurse Liz dons her chauffeur’s hat and squires me around from appointment to appointment.
Specialist #1 tells me that I’ve broken my shoulder (yeah, I figured that out already) and that he thought I might want to consider surgery.
WHAT?
Surgery? You’re kidding, right? I mean, I’ve never broken a bone before and now we’re talking surgery?
He says that he wants to show my x-rays to a colleague and that he’ll call me back and let me know what the deal is. We go home, armed with the second prescription for Percocet. The ER prescribed 20 pills. I thought that was a lot. This guy prescribed 50. Hmm.
I am now drinking gallons of water. I’m dying of thirst. Unfortunately, that which goes in must come out. I make lots of trips to the bathroom. I email my boss with gory updates. I research humeral fractures.
The specialist calls. They want me to go back in on Friday to see another doctor. Oh boy!
Every so often I think that maybe this is all a bad dream. Just the day before I was thinking that the worst thing that I had to deal with was the fact that my visit to the dentist produced the news that I need not one, but two root canals. And now…multiple doctors…mumblings about surgery…argh.
Liz has become Shopping Nurse Liz. She goes out for supplies.
Daily Percocet Intake: 7