Well, the washing machine venture didn't pan out as hoped. The sale was so successful that Lowe's has their deliveries fully booked, so why bother now? I'm not going to feel like doing any more laundry anyway, though I'm supposed to sleep on clean sheets the night before. OMG
I left the premises today for the first time in a while, all the way to Schaghticoke for some groceries, but didn't feel like cooking. I bought corn on the cob just because it seemed cheap, at 5 for $1, cooked it, but didn't feel like eating it.
Dave mowed the lawn and later found a tick on his leg, but it hadn't settled in yet. I did my 15 minutes on the bike with no problems; it doesn't even seem like exercise since I'm sitting down, and with no tension applied; I haven't wanted to blow anything out before my appliance arrives from Belgium or wherever.
Some absolutely terrible Miley Cyrus Bangerz Tour show was being televised, in addition to Sunday Morning's pimp piece on Robin Thicke. I tried to watch the new talent show, and decided I'm sick to death of a trite format with mediocre talent: an African America, a country singer and a sexy young personage trying to be quirky. I started a crossword, but it wasn't the Rex Parker edition, so I soon lost interest.
I heard a chilling story from Mass. which I can't even think about, and then I learned that Chloe died in her sleep the night before last.
While I type, I notice a suspicious-looking spot on my arm. I've been trying to build up my drastically low Vitamin D level by sitting in the sun for 10-15 minutes a day, and I think my arm has fallen victim. I need to make an appointment with a dermatologist and that is not a pleasant task. My original dermatologist in Bennington, the first I'd ever gone to, retired a few years ago. I visited another on Hoosick Street who was horribly obnoxious, and then one in Clifton Park, Dr. Hollywood, who may be competent enough but his practice is so patrician that he schedules follow-up appointments for over the phone, with an allotted time slot to call in.
Speaking of obnoxious, I have a morning appointment with my favorite ophthalmologist. I can expect only good things from that visit.
Sunday, July 6, 2014
July 6, 2014 Knee Placement
Somewhere at some physical location is a knee with my name on it. No, not an actual knee and not even the actual components, though they also exist somewhere as well. I refer to the customized knee. The words "customized knee" is not an accurate description because the knee, meaning the components thereof, is not customized. The only custom part is the guide, the tool that is used to guide the cuts that are to be made into the bones. It is designed from an MRI, and therefore can accurately (ideally) show how much bone needs to be sliced away. After the knee is cut open and the bones are exposed, this cutting jig aids the surgeon in where to make the cuts and how much to cut away. The cutting blades are inserted into the slots built into the jig / guide. In conjunction with this, there is an assortment of different sized components which are tested until one is a satisfactory (or ideal) fit. They're numbered as to size. My understanding is that the surgeon must bring several of each size, for the three different parts: femur, tibia and patella. It is not one size fits all.
So somewhere, out there, is the all-important guide or jig. I read that they were made in Belgium; I don't know if that is still true, but I hope it has arrived safely at the proper orthopedic office, and that it is not forgotten. That jig is mine alone, custom made for only me. I don't think I'll claim it though; it may well be considered hazardous waste.
*****Several years ago, in my job, I was at a dental office where a child was being fitted for spacers. The aide carried in a large compartmentalized tray with dozens and dozens of different sized spacer appliances, all arranged as to size. She bumped her arm on one of the office machines and dropped the entire tray on the floor. They said everything had to be re-sterilized as well as re-organized. Sounded tedious to me.
So somewhere, out there, is the all-important guide or jig. I read that they were made in Belgium; I don't know if that is still true, but I hope it has arrived safely at the proper orthopedic office, and that it is not forgotten. That jig is mine alone, custom made for only me. I don't think I'll claim it though; it may well be considered hazardous waste.
*****Several years ago, in my job, I was at a dental office where a child was being fitted for spacers. The aide carried in a large compartmentalized tray with dozens and dozens of different sized spacer appliances, all arranged as to size. She bumped her arm on one of the office machines and dropped the entire tray on the floor. They said everything had to be re-sterilized as well as re-organized. Sounded tedious to me.
July 6, 2014
Ugh. So little time, so much crap to do. I've given up on the idea of cleaning house, can do no more. Who cares anyway? Bring on the dumpsters when the time comes. But it's a beautiful day,and let's see what's on the agenda: I'm supposed to shower as usual for 3 days in a row and then again with a bottle of chlorhexdine, which is NOT to be used on "face, hair, underarms, or groin." What else is there to wash, I ask you. Then, in addition to all the other rules and restrictions relating to lifestyle and personal hygiene, something else new. Mupirocin Ointment which you're to apply to each nostril twice a day for 2 days before and 3 days after surgery. All to prevent the spread of infections, which has to be a good thing, though annoying in its implementations.
We need to go get a washer. I waited to see the ads in today's paper, but our newspaper delivery was mixed up today. The advertising supplements for both papers were missing, replaced by a duplicate copy of the Times Union, and MISSING the critical "UNWIND" section which has the NYT Crossword, and is the only reason I get the paper. So no ads and no X-word. Grrr.
There are no groceries in the house, and I want to see "Jersey Boys." I must recalibrate....
We need to go get a washer. I waited to see the ads in today's paper, but our newspaper delivery was mixed up today. The advertising supplements for both papers were missing, replaced by a duplicate copy of the Times Union, and MISSING the critical "UNWIND" section which has the NYT Crossword, and is the only reason I get the paper. So no ads and no X-word. Grrr.
There are no groceries in the house, and I want to see "Jersey Boys." I must recalibrate....
July 5, 2014
Right about now, I don't know how I feel. As with the other knee, I had pictures taken, sitting and standing to see how crooked the legs are. Last year I was appalled at the deformity. Yes, that's what they call it, medically. This time, though the pictures are an ugly sight, I didn't feel so surprised. I guess I'm used to the horror. I almost think I would feel a little better if I had more pain, in order to fully justify getting rid of it. Oh, wait, the knee is not replaced, merely resurfaced. I rode for 15 minutes, covering 5 miles, today with minimal discomfort and circled the outside of the house a few times without having to call for assistance. So.
I think I feel more nervous this time around, probably mostly because I have a weaker support system. But I guess that can't be helped, at least by me. Snookie called this morning to wish me well, and Barbara called this afternoon. It was good to hear from both of them. The mail brought a card from the Mass. Schroders, cute, with art from the kids. But I stayed home all day, as I did yesterday. Maybe tomorrow I'll venture out. We might have to go buy a washing machine: the old one seems to have given up the ghost, a victim of over-zealous workouts due to that clean-everything-before-I-die impulse.
I had registered for the MyHealth Patient Portal and today was able to view my labs from July 1, a very convenient program but also a little unsettling because not only this week's results are there, but a comprehensive collection of all my medical procedures and visits for the last several years from all the doctors and hospitals in the ever-expanding system, including, even, surgical notes from TKR #1. Of course the site is supposed to be secure, but that often turns out to be a fallible setup. But then again, who in the whole Ethernet would be likely to care about matters that are of such supreme local indifference.
Anyway, it doesn't look like any of the results will be obstacles to what has been set in motion. A few tests slightly away from the norm, but almost all fell into the normal range. The biggest surprise was my glucose level of 79, because I did buy a mixed bag of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and KitKat bars (for the kids), and I did tie a double knot in the plastic bag, but then I punched a hole in the side.
Elective surgery, or any surgery for that matter, is a lone and lonely venture.
I think I feel more nervous this time around, probably mostly because I have a weaker support system. But I guess that can't be helped, at least by me. Snookie called this morning to wish me well, and Barbara called this afternoon. It was good to hear from both of them. The mail brought a card from the Mass. Schroders, cute, with art from the kids. But I stayed home all day, as I did yesterday. Maybe tomorrow I'll venture out. We might have to go buy a washing machine: the old one seems to have given up the ghost, a victim of over-zealous workouts due to that clean-everything-before-I-die impulse.
I had registered for the MyHealth Patient Portal and today was able to view my labs from July 1, a very convenient program but also a little unsettling because not only this week's results are there, but a comprehensive collection of all my medical procedures and visits for the last several years from all the doctors and hospitals in the ever-expanding system, including, even, surgical notes from TKR #1. Of course the site is supposed to be secure, but that often turns out to be a fallible setup. But then again, who in the whole Ethernet would be likely to care about matters that are of such supreme local indifference.
Anyway, it doesn't look like any of the results will be obstacles to what has been set in motion. A few tests slightly away from the norm, but almost all fell into the normal range. The biggest surprise was my glucose level of 79, because I did buy a mixed bag of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and KitKat bars (for the kids), and I did tie a double knot in the plastic bag, but then I punched a hole in the side.
Elective surgery, or any surgery for that matter, is a lone and lonely venture.
Field of Dreams
With sleep being restless, what with all I have to do as well as all I've failed to do, the dream state has taken over. The relevance of the dreams to real life is vague at best. Last night seemed like a particularly long and all-encompassing struggle of many people to find a summer softball league for Maureen to play in, she being about 12 years of age, and deeply disappointed that her school was not offering such. Dave had asked one of his doctors if he knew of any softball venue, but the doctor didn't, said he lived in the same school district, and was in the same boat looking for a place for his daughter to play. Last I recall. they were going to launch a search on Facebook. Good luck!
Saturday, July 5, 2014
Etymology July 5, 2014
Sawbones----another name for a doctor, who actually uses an actual saw to cut actual bones. Replacement, resurfacing---call it what you will----when sharp saw meets hard bone, the chips begin to fly.
Friday, July 4, 2014
July 2, 2014 " .....this way comes"
I've been easing off on the exercise bike, not because it's uncomfortable, as it's not, but I just don't want to have anything drastic happen to my knee in case I do show up for surgery as scheduled. I took my 5 mile, no tension, ride yesterday afternoon, but did nothing today.
I want to deny this, but I fear I will be unable to continue to do so. I've had a persistent floater in my right eye for much of the afternoon and evening. I can see out of it fine, but the floater circulates around 11:00 o'clock on the eyeball. I suppose I'll have to call the Doctors Eye tomorrow morning. We'll see, or not. (One thing I can't stand about the messages on the Fuchs' Friends site is that often, way too often, members will write something like "being in the dark" and then offer the "no pun intended" remark. How precious, pretentious, and just plain icky.) OMG, maybe my mood will change with the weather. Ever since the 1st of July...
I want to deny this, but I fear I will be unable to continue to do so. I've had a persistent floater in my right eye for much of the afternoon and evening. I can see out of it fine, but the floater circulates around 11:00 o'clock on the eyeball. I suppose I'll have to call the Doctors Eye tomorrow morning. We'll see, or not. (One thing I can't stand about the messages on the Fuchs' Friends site is that often, way too often, members will write something like "being in the dark" and then offer the "no pun intended" remark. How precious, pretentious, and just plain icky.) OMG, maybe my mood will change with the weather. Ever since the 1st of July...
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