No post yesterday. Visit to my second-favourite doc, my rheumatologist. Saw one of her trainees, a Fellow preparing for his own practice. He could become my second-favourite doc, except he’s moving back to Victoria.
Thorough work-up, discovering swelling and tenderness in right knee and ankle, along with the trigger finger (yes, that is an official diagnosis) on my left hand. All would be helped by cortisone injections, he says. OK, say I. Anything to help. No help, unfortunately for the terrible stuff in my right hand — pain, numbness, tingling from thumb to baby finger, including palm. Keep working at finding the level of medication that will bring relief without making me dizzy, Grogginess will diminish, he says. OK, I say.
So, 3 injections, one of which was incredibly painful – that little tendon that causes the triggering is very small and very sore and he had to find exactly the right spot to inject.
Go home, he says. Light duty today. No stairs if possible, no marathons, no typing. Definitely no bike ride. OK, I say.
Will the pain stop? I ask hopefully. It may, he says, but these things take time. OK, I say.
Then the news that my regular rheumatologist is planning to retire next year and is starting the process with her patients. Great. Within a year, I will have a new doc to get to know. She looks 25 or so. Another impact of my aging – everyone looks so young.
Home, tea, sleep, watch Tigers lose again, watch Dodgers lose again. All in all….
Hands are better in the morning so I type this now and publish later, perhaps with an add-on. Now, to teach, to prepare them for their mid-term on Monday, to be the “healthy 67-year old” again for an hour.
And no add-on. Too much pain. Good night.