Yesterday I had a visit with the orthopedist who is looking after my broken foot. I had hoped that the X-ray would show a good pattern of bone growth, that seven days would give that metatarsal a chance to close up and heal. But when we looked at the new picture, it looks just as busted as when I broke it.
The doc was quick to decide. “We’ll have to get you in for surgery in the next few days.” OK, well I guess that’s what we’re gonna do. Faced with ignorance about how fractured foot bones heal, but aware of how much I need to use this left foot, I put my bendable black brace back on and accepted that I’d be going under the knife.
Yesterday in preparation for the surgery I had a chest X-ray. Again, not something I’m terribly familiar with…but I noticed that in Baystate Franklin, every department seems to be its own fiefdom. You check in with all of them, as I did later when I went to get hooked up to an EKG machine. The friendly cardiac tech said she liked the way that graph looked, she’d sign her name to that one. Oh, I like that.
Today no food, not even milk in my coffee. At 2 pm I’ll check in and at four pm, while I am out like a light, they’ll cut the foot open and I guess, screw in a pin.
I am glad it’s my foot they’re going after and not my face or my chest. I have total empathy with the many friends and relatives who have spent more time in the hospital than me, that’s the upside here.