Warning: include_once(/home/mackillian/ohlookabutterfly.com/wp-content/plugins/wordpress-support/wordpress-support.php): failed to open stream: Permission denied in /home/mackillian/ohlookabutterfly.com/wp-settings.php on line 307

Warning: include_once(): Failed opening '/home/mackillian/ohlookabutterfly.com/wp-content/plugins/wordpress-support/wordpress-support.php' for inclusion (include_path='.:/usr/local/lib/php:/usr/local/php5/lib/pear') in /home/mackillian/ohlookabutterfly.com/wp-settings.php on line 307
…oh look, a butterfly! » 2005 » November

November 2005


29 Nov 2005 11:45 pm

The ortho finally caught up with me today. He mentioned this word—subluxation. Rarely am I tossed a word that I don’t even have a vague idea of what it means. You know, context clues and all that. Well, I had no idea what the word meant. I asked him, he got sidetracked about explaining what the resulting injury could be.

Let me back up. Basically, ortho thinks there’s a tear in my labrum. What’s a labrum, you ask? Well. The shoulder is a ball and socket joint, like the hip joint. Only the shoulder joint is more shallow to allow for greater range of movement. This range of movement sacrifies stability because of the shallow socket part of the joint. To help with this, the socket has this gasket-type ligament around the outside edge. This gasket is the labrum. So when the ortho talked about subluxation, he meant the shoulder coming out of the socket, but not all the way. A tear could be created on the ball’s return to the socket or the part-dislocation-whatever caused by a tear already there (from repeated actions over time such as a raquet sport—done that—or a throwing sport—done that too—or any sport that uses the arm/shoulders a lot—fencing, d’you think?). Anyway, when there’s a tear, the flapping tissue can get caught between the ball and socket and cause pain and/or inflammation. It causes certain types of pain and a “catching” sensation with certain movements. A labrum tear is hard to diagnose and treatment options cover the range from physical therapy to surgery.

Ortho thinks I have a labrum tear. He’s scheduling me for an MRI with a contrast dye injection (in order to see the tear better) and then referring me straight to the surgeon. Why? He says I’ve already done all the other treatment options: physical therapy, ice, rest, anti-imflammatory medication, cortisone injection. So there’s a fairly decent chance I’ll be getting surgery. Arthroscopic, but surgery nonetheless.

Did I mention this takes four to six weeks to recover from? And that’s just to start the PT? (If I recall correctly, which I might not right now, since I’m trying not to be cross eye from the Seroquel that’s kicking in). That’s a long time without fencing.

cry

On the up side, I guess I can do the 3 month long basic EMT class with no wilderness module while I can’t fence. Though it all still sucks monkey balls.

Oh. And I’m allergic, so says ortho, to xylocaine. At least, the reaction I had (throat swelling, difficulty breathing) to the cortisone shot sorta says that, since people don’t have reactions to cortisone and that’s what they use to treat allergic reactions. Now I get a big fancy ALERT sticker about not using xylocaine. A bigger sticker even than the one for Skelaxin!

Speaking of Seroquel, those little tiny pink pills have been leaping out of my hand lately. I had witnesses tonight, I swear. Last night I didn’t even know it’d fallen out until the following morning when I found it on the coffee table. No wonder I chattered on and on last night and fidgeted in bed instead of falling asleep. Poor Nathan. He tried to explain what he does to fall asleep (he tells himself stories) and I said that only puts him to sleep because his stories suck.

Seroquel is like some sort of evil truth serum. You can’t even edit your comments. Nathan’s writing doesn’t suck, but my soften-the-snarkiness-o-meter does, indeed, suck.

Anyway, as the seroquel made it to my digestive system and is now circulating about my body and penetrating the blood-brain barrier, I must stumble to my bed.

29 Nov 2005 12:38 am

I think this is what I will say to him should I ever chance to have a conversation with him. He does this wonderful job of making us love and appreciate the characters, care about them, look forward to continuing to read about them and have them entertain us…

then he kills them!

Awful! Just awful!

Except the zombie Catelyn. I’m not so sure about that. But I love a good zombie flick, so I’m game for it.

I’m reading A Feast for Crows now, finally having finished Mirror Dance. I need more time to read, this fifteen minutes before I pass out due to Seroquel just isn’t cutting it anymore.

Anyway. Reading AFFC has me thinking be nice. Be nice to your characters, GRRM, or the zombies will get you.

29 Nov 2005 12:11 am

I’m not a huge fan of the normal-everyday-grapefruit-Fresca, but damn, I like the peach Fresca. And because I like it, it goes down into the annals of Fucking Hard To Find In Large Quantities like Diet Code Red Mountain Dew was (and continues to be). I found it today at Rite Aid in 20 oz. bottles, while not a large quantity, it’s better than nothing, and is nearby. Of course I was at Rite Aid dropping of one of the prescriptions for one of the gobs and gobs of drugs I’m on.

Gimme drugs, man!

This time it’s the speed. I really, really need to not run out. I think I have short-long-term memory problems of how much it sucks without having taken Adderall. When you’re on it and running out you think: oh, I can go a couple days without it and pick up the new script when I see the doc.

Wrong.

The next day, as you’re speedless and have the concentration of a winged wombat, you realize: it fucking sucks when I have no Adderall. This time I ran out because I didn’t make sure that my next appointment was within thirty days. Four weeks, yes, thirty days, no. This means Jamie runs out of Adderall. My psychiatrist’s office keeps moving. Last month, there was a sign on the office door saying that due to water damage, the doctor’s offices have been moved to a wing of the actual hospital (instead of a building next to the hospital attached only by a corridor). Then you have to wander through the maze of the hospital—because my hospital has letters for floor instead of numbers and some sort of numerical system on each floor that makes no fucking sense whatsoever—to hopefully find your shrink’s office. Today I went to pick up the script, thinking ahead and went straight up to the E floor where they were before…but they’ve moved. No, not back to where they were in the first place, but to the 500 section of the E floor, which is called the north end but doesn’t even face north.

I think they’re just messing with us psych patients. The hospital is the maze and our meds are the cheese.

Cheese, Grommit!

The most evil game in the world. And I just lost. Bugger!

26 Nov 2005 12:16 pm

First Snowfall

24 Nov 2005 10:32 pm

“I will involve him with less abusive people if I have to duct tape him to the roof of my car and beat him with pretzel sticks.”

—pH on helping her brother meet new people and lose the current unhealthy girlfriend

23 Nov 2005 11:35 am

Mad Owl’s got itself a store!

Next Page »