Monday, June 1, 2009

calcaneal osteotomy, et al

Yes, I'm thinking in Latin. What do you expect? I'm surrounded by attorneys all day. But this is more of a medical term, specific to my poor heel, which is near my equally poor ankle. I can't sleep. I don't feel like eating. My surgery will be scheduled soon.

If you wish to see what a calcaneal osteotomy looks like, click here. (Not for the weak of heart, stomach or spleen).

I am also planning to voluntarily experience a tendon transfer. No pictures on this link.

For a detailed explanation of my surgical options, click here. I promise that you will also be thinking in Latin if you do.

Why do I need this? Posterior tibial tendon dysfunction (PTTD), Stage II. It is also spelled O-U-C-H.

I am the world's biggest baby, however.

Big Baby, 2003
Nina Levy

Credit to the artist, of course. I think that baby just might be male, though. So it's not a statue of me, after all.

I stand accused of being the "nightmare patient." Why? Because I had a few simple questions, such as:

Can I keep my clothes on for surgery, please? No? Please?

Do you really need to use a needle on me, or an IV? Can't I just breathe in some anaesthesia? No? Please?

And, last but not least, what do you mean, I can't walk for six weeks afterward?

No weight on the right foot at all for six weeks. I hope my insurance company will cover the cost of a knee walker. I really want one.

And I find that the best way in my life to stay safe and healthy is to keep a safe and healthy distance from all things medical. So yes, I have absolutely no idea what to expect. Needles are terrifying. I don't care about the saw while I'm unconscious. But please let me keep my clothes on. And really, there is absolutely no need for that needle. Put it away. Put it away NOW. Please?

And if they try to kill me via antibiotics again, I swear, I will haunt them. I am allergic to almost every antibiotic out there, and yet, I always seem to be handed a prescription for something that will cause me sudden and painful death. Maybe I AM the "nightmare patient," and they are really trying to kill me.

I just want to be made to feel comfortable and secure. I will never feel safe around doctors. I know that already. But couldn't they treat me like a human instead of a lab rat?

And now that I've seen the pictures of similar surgeries, I may never sleep again.

Even Friday the 13th wasn't THIS scary. (Really, please don't click on that link unless you want to stay awake with me all night. It's pretty graphic.)

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