In The Carolean Era

We went Thursday evening to the orthopedic urgent care clinic I mentioned in my last post, and it was a surprisingly good experience.

I was dreading any encounter with the post-coof medical/pharmaceutical behemoth, but this was an example of being in the right place at the right time. It was clear as soon as we entered the clinic that we were the only people in the place. The receptionist was kind and affable, and got me checked in quickly. An x-ray tech who looked like Lisa Loeb’s twin sister appeared with a most-welcome wheelchair and took me back for pictures of my knee. She, too, was very kind and personable, and put me at ease with her gentle banter. She wheeled me back to the exam room where Mrs. Orr was waiting, and she didn’t even have time to close the door behind her when the Physician’s Assistant entered the room, chuckling that she’d already read my films.

Having worked for and around doctors for most of the past two decades, I know what to look for, and I know what to be worried about. There were no alarm bells sounding in my head as I answered the PA’s questions and submitted to her very thorough physical exam. The only time I was concerned was when she warned me that her examination of my ligaments and tendons was likely to be very unpleasant. But it wasn’t. She was impressed with how much range of motion I was able to sustain, and the longer the exam went on, the more at ease I felt. By the time she told me that she pretty darn sure I didn’t have a torn ACL, I had already reached the same conclusion.

The PA explained that if I had indeed torn the ACL, not only would I be having severe pain during her manipulations of my knee, but that I also would probably have a large amount of blood under the kneecap and under the skin. The edema my knee exhibited was nothing in comparison to the ACL-level trauma. She said that she suspected I tore a cartilage, but that the x-ray wouldn’t provide sufficient detail to confirm this. Her staff set up a referral to an orthopedic surgeon at a nearby hospital for this coming week. At that time, the orthopedic doc will be able to confirm her diagnoses and make further recommendations. The word “surgery” was never mentioned.

She had the staff fit me with an immobilization brace that extends from ankle to mid-thigh to keep the knee from moving in directions that might aggravate the problem. She also wrote an Rx for a walker, so that I could ambulate without putting weight on the knee. By the time we left the clinic, we were both sighing in relief. The visit couldn’t have gone any better. I was fully prepared to be greeted and shuffled through the system by a bunch of bored, Tik-Tokking Basic College Girls and then subjected to a perfunctory exam by Dr. Panjeet Jugdish, who of course wouldn’t listen to a word I said. But Crom laughed at my fears and saw to it that I was placed in the care of some small-town gals who were thoroughly professional and yet warm and human at the same time. When I complete the survey for the visit, I will use many superlatives.  We’ll see how it goes with the MD at the hospital this week.

Sleeping with the immobilizing brace has been a very good thing. I worried that it would keep me from sleeping well, since it’s hard to rest with some foreign object strapped around one’s leg. But it has prevented me from moving the knee at all during sleep, and so I (and equally importantly, Mrs. Orr) have enjoyed solid sleep time. I haven’t iced it since yesterday, and the edema has subsided a fair amount. I only take ibuprofen at bed time, and the pain is down to about a 2, and only really rears its head when I shuffle around using my walker. My walker which I have named Emmylou. Because she’s lean-framed and silver in color.

I’m hoping the improvement trend will continue at this pace, so that before too many more days pass, I can carefully and gingerly drop the deck on the lawn tractor and get that danged belt replaced. It’s supposed to rain this evening and tomorrow, and the grass will be a growing. I also hope the knee heals quickly because I am wearing Mrs. Orr slap-dab OUT. She would never utter a peep of complaint, but I know she’s probably somewhat weary of fetching things from the far corners of the house and of helping me down steps and into/out of the car. “Can I have my glasses? Oh, and a pickled egg? Oh, and do we have any lip balm? And where’s my ink pen? And what do you think you’ll cook for supper? And I’ll have a beer if you’re headed this way. And can you let Bluebelle in? I think Jinx was looking for her. And did we get any mail?”

And she smiles so sweetly at me, with such infinite patience. And she waits until she gets in the kitchen, where she thinks she’s out of earshot, before she mutters, “Didn’t know there were two coronations this weekend…”

I want to thank all of you who prayed for me and wished me well, those of you who left comments and sent me private emails, and those of you whom I know always pray for my family and me. These things mean more than y’all know.

I wish a restful day and evening for all of you and your loved ones.

~ S.K. Orr