Thursday, January 25, 2018

Mystery of the misplaced calcium!

‘Meena, don’t do anything rash today. I hope you remember that it is January now.’ That was my husband on his way out to work a couple of weeks ago.  He might have looked down his nose sternly at me delivering that warning, but I don’t doubt for a minute that he meant well.  The same message was subsequently repeated to me by my children at regular intervals.

Their warning is not without merit, I must admit.  January has proved to be a colorful month for me in recent years.  It is when I usually trip over non-existent hurdles, slip on perfectly dry land and walk into very wide, visible walls.  I may have become used to the January routine by now, but it seems like my family has not  I don’t mind the resulting broken bones or torn ligaments as much as I mind the disbelief and skepticism that I invariably face while trying to explain my incidents to others.

I still remember the conversation I had with the front desk person last January at an after-hours medical facility.

Lady at desk – For insurance purposes, could you tell me about how you injured your left leg today?

Self – Oh sure.  You see, my dogs were in the backyard fighting over a toy this evening.  Do you have children or dogs? Then, I bet you know how hard it is to get them to share anything. Short of reading them moral stories from the Indian folklore, I have tried my best to imbibe the virtue of sharing in my dogs but, as you can obviously see here, I have totally failed. 

Lady at desk – No, I don’t see at all.  What happened to your leg?

Self – Wait, I am getting there.  As I was watching through the window, the friendly banter suddenly picked up heat and guess what?  I had never seen such sharp teeth before.  That’s when I decided to step in and play the referee before things got out of hand. That was good timing even if I say so myself.

Lady at desk – Mrs. S, I feel like I should say ‘congratulations’ but WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR LEG?

Self – Well, I ran down the backyard deck stairs to pull my dogs apart. That’s what happened.

Lady at desk – Huh??  Did you hit your leg against something? Did you fall twisting your heel?

Self – Don’t be silly, of course not.  Do I look clumsy?  I just ran 10 steps.

I still remember her dazed look when I was taken in to see the doctor who later pronounced my ligament torn. 

While the MRI showed the soggy state of my ligament, the x-rays spoke of a whole new  story.  Apparently, instead of boosting the strength of my poor bones, all the calcium that I intake end up rushing to my heel forming little bone-like spikes there causing pain while I walk.  So that’s what has been happening to my calcium!

Many days, I had wondered about this so it was a relief to know the truth finally. I like a good puzzle as well as the next person but where is the satisfaction in an unsolved mystery?  I was, therefore, glad to put the mystery of the misplaced calcium to rest.  At least, I know now why my bones threaten to break on me at a moment’s notice.  

The year before last, it was my arm’s turn.  I had shoveled a small, 5 x 5 area of snow off my driveway only to find that I had torn the ligament along the elbow.  Those days, I was still a bit afraid of being stuck in an MRI machine.  I distinctly remember that room being eerie white, the inside of the machine being too small, and me being disproportionately big.  Not an ideal situation really but thanks to the January phenomenon, I have practiced enough to outgrow my distaste and fear of the machine now. 

This year, after catching my family watching my movements worriedly ever since New Year, I decided to be smart and take precautions.  After all, I don’t enjoy the inside of the MRI that much.  When Mr. Jenks called announcing school snow closings, I was already ready.  I had made extensive plans for hibernation based on the weather forecast and had injury-proofed myself.  I had stocked the fridge and the pantry enough to survive a five-year famine and had ensured that I wouldn’t have to step outside once snow started.  When at last, the pitiful 2 inches of snow hit Richmond, I stood by the window watching the world swirl pretty in white.  Every time I opened the fridge and was met with a parade of milk cartons, I patted my own back.  Bring it on, fate! Let’s see how you get me to slip this year. Hah! 

2 inches of snow and our county, naturally, closed schools for 5 days.  I never could get that math to add up but then I have never been much in mathematics.  While the snow turned to ice and the ice refused to melt on the surfaces outside, I sat inside warm and safe in my private haven congratulating myself on at last foiling fate.  

After 6 days of staying indoors, I was starting to turn moldy. I threw open the doors and stepped outside on the 7th day. There was no snow, ice or dampness anywhere in sight.  It was as good a day as any.  Enjoying the warm sun on my face, I walked towards the car with a long list of errands to run.  Next thing I knew, my ankle had twisted from under me and voila, there was that familiar feeling of pain and the even more familiar sight of swelling. 

Was it ego or simple pigheadedness that let me drag my feet for 10 days without seeing a doctor?  I am not sure but I did will it to be a mild sprain.  Yes, there was swelling but I could walk on it so why would I concede victory to fate yet?  When you have plump feet like mine, it is very hard to distinguish general plumpness from injury swelling but at last, even I could clearly see that the swelling was not going down.  With a huge sigh, I finally called my wonderful doctor who promptly ordered x-rays and sent me on my way to the Orthopedic office.  

When I walked in to the room, the doctor said, ‘You look familiar’ and that prompted me to remind him that he had treated me last January too.  He even asked about my dogs.  That was sweet of him, I thought.  He took one look at the fractured bone in the x-rays and said ‘Okay Meena, time to get you in a boot. Let me get someone to bring you a boot.  You must wear it at all times except while going to bed.’  I hesitantly told him that I had the boot from last January but asked him if one could use the left boot for the right foot too.  I was so amazed when he said the boot was universal.  Go figure!  Who would have guessed they made universal boots like universal remotes!

When he next made an attempt to get me a pair of crutches, I shook  my head smiling and said, ‘I have them too doc.’  He was pleased, I could tell.  How many patients come in to see an Orthopedic doctor already owning a universal boot and a pair of crutches?  January is not completely without blessings, I thought as I came home to my wonderful, universal boot.   

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