October 6, 2012

On Her Last Leg

Ancestry.com upload: 2006, Cuz Tom B visiting San Diego aboard the Midway.

Yes, I shelved books first thing then came home to grab the Great Geezer and head to the hospital.  No one told me to bring my allergy lists or my med lists.  The med lists were available on their computer not so the allergy list. 

G patiently waited with a nice loud TV and magazines to distract him.  I was very grateful for the ride.  I was more than grateful that he remembered to validate the parking.

Yes, I had read in the paper that the injectable steroids were contaminated and causing a fungal meningitis.  After getting undressed, climbing on the very hard table where I could not lower my leg flat and slowly disintegrated into a non breathing state, ya gotta do these things to feel better later, I asked.  He was kind enough to tell me that he’d called on the drugs.  He’d changed brands, and all was well.

In the radiology room were the doctor, the radiology tech, and me.  Just as an added fillip, there was a rather green intern and a new radiology tech who were observing.  All were coated in the new aprons, vests, and thyroid masks.  I had thought of asking for a breast protector but for some reason was distracted by the pain.

It all went quite well, a little more contrast here, and a little more cushioning there when it appeared the hip was bone on bone. Everyone answered all my questions for which I was very grateful.  Afterwards the doctor came around and gently asked if I had considered alternatives. 

“Yes, hip replacement but only after I get back from Washington,” I replied.

I told G the bad news, and then remarked that “I was on my last leg.”

We laughed together wonderfully, and G remembered what I said so I could write that here.  Vibrating from the steroids, we meetinged, window shopped, and slept.  I woke at 0330, 0430, and finally woke just after 0630.  Thinking almost did me in.  Dogged determination got me some sleep, and will get me to Washington in a week’s time. 

On my last leg, indeed.


  1. I'm sorry you had to go through all that for a little relief and more sorry that you may have to go through more in the future. But the good thing is there are alternatives and hopefully it will work out well for you.

  2. That's sad. Why do nice people have to suffer? Take care, Mage, my thoughts are with you.

  3. Hearing the news about the cortisone is scary stuff. I called about my recent shot as well. Relieved for us both. Thinking good thoughts for you, its rough living your life with pain playing the background music. Wishing you relief.

  4. Had a hard time with comments yesterday, so I'll try again. I am so excited for your trip! And I hope you get the hip fixed soon. I visited my friend the other night. First time she could walk right in years, and that was the day after surgery.

  5. You have to be special to find something to laugh about in adversity.
    Best wishes for an end to pain and discomfort.

  6. Oh ouch, Mage. I'm so sorry you're having to go through this. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that you start to feel better soon.


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