John Furie Zacharias
having a bad day in a strange place
Thunderstorms Anywhere

Thunderstorms in the Imajica

 The different ways I don't like you 
 in a list that may never become organized
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Wednesday, December 17, 2003
I am a meat popsicle

All-you-can-eat Donner BBQ, if you don't mind picking metal staples out of your teeth

It's actually true what some of you already have been thinking about me.  As Bruce Willis says in The 5th Element, "I am a meat popsicle".

This is my first blog entry since before Thanksgiving last month.  Disregard any date/time info on the blog entries until the middle of the month.  I'm going to play catch-up for a little while.  It's only been a day or two since I could take sitting in front of the PC for any length of time.  I just got back from a doctor's appointment today (17th) where the nurse unceremoniously yanked out the happy little metal staples in my leg.  I counted just about forty of them. 

Then the doc checked out my slab of meat, or leg, if you prefer, and put in two little stitches where he had cut a drainage hole that hadn't stopped bleeding after two weeks.  He told me that since I was such a smart ass all of the time, I could wait a week or so and cut out my own stitches, if I wanted.  I had to fill out an update form this morning, which I thought was silly since I had just been in his office only six days ago.  So, to answer his question of "Has anything changed since your last visit?", I replied, "I've shaved" to see if he actually reads his own little forms.

The surgeon, Dr. Mitchell, really has been pretty cool with me about this whole deal, though.  He described the condition of my leg and knee after the surgery as "trying to prop back up a crushed bag of saltine crackers". 

He knows I don't have any frickin' medical insurance, so he's been letting me take a few short cuts along the way.  He discharged me out of the hospital after surgery a day earlier than normal.  He hasn't padded my experience with any extra, unnecessary procedures or appointments.  He showed me some exercises that I'd have paid a physical therapist to instruct me on, and so forth.

While I'm not supposed to put any weight on the knee or leg whatsoever for many weeks to come, I am now allowed to get vertical, sit in a chair or bounce around the house using my happy, happy walker.  It's a cool collapsible walker that I bought for my mom's hip rehab almost two years ago.  It folds up and can be tossed in the back of the truck.  I even zip-tied a handy-dandy white rubbermaid container to the front of it so I can easily take stuff with me as I hobble about aimlessly around the house. 

I was hoping the doctor would give me a little bell or squeeze horn I could attach to my walker today, but he was fresh out.  I would have settled for a pair of cute little sparkling handlebar tassles, but I think you need major medical insurance for those kinds of amenities.

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Posted at 11:28 am by John Furie Zacharias


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