Hi. again, Friends. You know. I really didn’t want to write these columns about my fall. When I am sick, I’m the kind of person who likes to hibernate. I am reluctant to tell family members and friends that I even have a problem. Unfortunately, when you can’t walk, it is hard to fake it. But I tried.
It occurred to me that talking about the hard stuff might be useful to someone else. I must admit I contacted two friends and asked them whether these first two columns were “poor me’s. If they were I would happily abandon baring my hip and slink into my room. Alas, they said no. So here we are.
I didn’t want to go see the bone doctor. I had this fantasy of leaping out of the car and running down the street and into freedom. Then I thought that would probably be difficult when I couldn’t walk. But honestly, I did not want to go, which was strange. Because I’m a suck-it-up-and-move-forward type of gal.
I figure I didn’t want to know what the good doctor was going to tell me. I’ve long been an advocate against nursing homes, preferring at-home dignity. The problem is though, that if you dig down into Medicare’s sub-sub index, page 9,042, line item 827.d.32.R-92…okay, I’m making that up. But if you’ve ever tried to deal with this government agency, you get an idea of why many people hate the government. After bleeding all over my keyboard, I found that at-home care is not covered. And well, that just sucks.
I mean, why go for three pages when you can pour out 19,592 pages?
A friend of mine lived in London and was biking 10 miles to work (I won’t hold that against him, though) when he got hit by a bus. Ouch, bad luck, it was a double-decker device. The next thing he knew, he was in a hospital bed.
Guess how many forms he saw? Twelve? Six? Nope. Nope. Just the one. And guess how much it cost him? $100,423? $60,490? Nope. Nope. Nothing. And he wasn’t even related to the Royals! We could have that here if we rebelled. Doctors have to hire an individual just to deal with Medicare. I say if London can make life easy, then so can the United States.
We really don’t need insurance companies. They are useless middlemen creating useless paperwork, in my ever-humble opinion.
Back to the bone doctor. It seems that I am going to be given the opportunity to have him insert a big honking spear-like thing into my femur. And attached to it is a ball to replace my non-existent cartilage. But first, I have to lose 14 pounds. Probably more, since I lied about my weight. When I go to my other doctor, I close my eyes and tell them not to let me know the terrible news. Makes it hard to guesstimate. Actually in my case, it is more like a wishtimate.
But given extra weight will split the femur, I have a lovely reason to be good. He said he would check on me in six weeks. Surgery is tentatively scheduled for mid-May.
The other reason I didn’t want to go to the bone doctor is I knew they would take x-rays. And for such an interesting experience, I usually manage to experience severe pain. Have you ever been unable to walk and throw your back out? Welcome to my world. Maybe I’ll run away in six weeks.
Be safe and be well, you and yours. Masks are cool accessories now.
Gloria
Gloria Christie is a political journalist for the liberal online newspaper The Bipartisan Report. Find her here on Facebook. Or at Three White Lions, her book written in her own unique style with a twist of humor on Amazon Kindle Vella and the Gloria Christie Three White Lions podcast on Apple, Spotify, Amazon Music, etc. Christie’s Mueller Report Adventures In Bite-Sizes a real-life compelling spy mystery (in progress).
Gloria, So sorry to hear about your misfortune. It takes guts to get older. I'm 71 and I don't want to exercise! It hurts and I hate painkillers. What a story that is about your London friend. Night and day from our We Don't Care Health System. I think there's a special circle of hell reserved for insurance companies and their government enablers. I hope you feel better soon. Take care and keep the faith!