Malingering

Aug 19, 2007 in Various Frailties

If I were wheezing and gasping for breath as I begged for an appointment with my doctor's receptionist, would you want me to keep it down during said begging? OK, you'd probably want to hear all the drama of my life since you were stuck waiting for your appointment. Being a gossip hound, I know that was exactly how I felt. Read on... (plus 1 Comments)

That's Karayzie!

Apr 28, 2007 in Various Frailties

So, this weekend was my 10-year college reunion. I was all pumped to go, despite a very long and exhausting week, so that I could show everyone what a big success I am. But then, in my role as a LA Fire Department Rescue Jumper, while bungee-jumping from a helicopter in order to rescue a kitten from onrushing floodwaters, I threw out my back. So, instead, I've spent the weekend in my most orthopedically-correct chair. Read on... (plus 1 Comments)

Worst. Episode Shoulder. Ever.

Dec 23, 2006 in Various Frailties

In our last episode, it was revealed that our hero had a very very sore shoulder. Well, insofar as it's the holidays, and I'm with my family, and they're footing the bill, and we're staying at a hotel with an attached spa, I thought I'd get a massage. Because, as we learned in Thailand, massages fix things. Read on...

If This is Houston, My Back Must Hurt

Dec 21, 2006 in Various Frailties

Those of you who have been following along for quite a while may remember The Incident With The Roll-Out Bed. For many years, when visiting my Grandma1 for christmas, I slept on this fold-up bed on wheels that got rolled out only when I was in town. When I was six, this contraption, whose purchase only slightly antedated my father's birth, was quite adequate. However, when I turned 14 or so, one night on this bed left me writhing on the floor in the way that only a sore back can make one writhe. Read on... (plus 1 Comments)

Arizona: Dangerous For Interns, Temporary Relocation (Part The Second)

Jun 26, 2005 in Various Frailties

Are you thinking of a summer internship in or temporary relocation to Arizona? Think twice, it’s dangerous. Interns and others who choose to temporarily relocate to Arizona, or any of the other Western desert states may find themselves catching Valley Fever. I think I did! Your temporary relocation to, or internship in, Arizona could feature the substantial downsiede of weeks of coughs, fatigue, and worse. Read on...

Cured!

Jul 11, 2003 in Various Frailties

I'm officially cured; praise be, my legs are whole again! Well, not that whole. I'm supposed to start out by running a quarter mile, then increase that slowly. A quarter mile — that's barely long enough to bother running! The doc's mostly worried that I still have some soreness in the bones right above my ankles. My foot pain has almost totally disappeared, thanks to my orthotics: Look just like a pair o'lungs, don't they? From the bottom you can see how they're molded to my feet: That shaping lets them support my foot where it needs it most, at the arch. They're also a bit bucket-shaped: They cup my heel and the area above my arch, preventing my heel from pronating along with my arch. Let me tell you, these things are like a continuous foot massage! I go to bed each night wishing I could wear my shoes longer. I'm a fan and a convert. What I'm not a fan of is how long I had to wait to see the doctor to get them. My podiatrist, Dr. Kwong, was almost an hour late for our appointment; fortunately I was coming there from physical therapy, so we were able to devise another 45 minutes of exercise and I was spared the waiting room. I was not so fortunate for my follow-up appointment for my shin splints with Dr. Glousman. He was running more than two hours behind, and, as much as I do have fun games installed on my cell phone, I was reduced to reading Jet magazine in his waiting room (not that there's anything wrong with Jet, just, even were I black, the demographic would still be about 30 years older than me). I guess the lesson I learned from this is to always call ahead before you leave for a doctor's appointment to make sure your doc is running on schedule (although I wonder if they would've admitted how far behind he was). But how do you get two whole hours behind and not take 15 minutes to consider what you should do about the rest of your appointments that day? I would assume that the scheduling person would say something once you got kinda out of control, say at 45 minutes behind. Then it would be time to start trying to reschedule some appointments so that you could make others. I know I saw other people walking out because Glousman was so late, and I know that I would certainly think twice before seeing him in the future — I think I got good care, I just don't know what standard of care would be worth two hours of my life, given that it was a followup appointment for a non-serious problem that, heck, I could feel had been cured. So, in sum: I love the physical therapists at Kerlan-JobeI love Dr. Fleckner, their orthotics guy, because he makes my feets feel goooodI'm not so much a fan of their regular docs, because you can sure have to wait to see them. But when you do see them, they know what they're doing and take good care of you... Read on...

These Arches Ain't Golden

Jul 8, 2003 in Various Frailties

Up until recently, I was getting physical therapy for shin splints and for plantar fasciitis. The treatments went well, the shin splints are almost gone and the pain from the plantar fasciitis is greatly reduced. I'm almost ready to start running 2-4 miles/day again! I've got my physical therapy at Kerlan-Jobe in Westchester, near LAX. They have a competent and knowledgable (if somewhat overworked) staff, and great bedside manner. The facility is pretty dee-luxe, what with all the fancy equipment: And even a pool! Some days I wish i could be in that pool. But the only people who get to be there are so badly injured they need the support of water to be able to move. I don't get to use much of that, though, mostly they set me down on a treatment table and commit various unspeakable acts upon my person: Tools of my mistreatment include: Yes, with these fiendish implements, they make me carry out all sorts of sinister shiftings, stirrings and agitations, all with the stated goal of fixing my infirmities. Sometimes I suspect that some exercises are just designed to amuse the therapists — although, in all honesty, this round of physical therapy is much easier than what I had to go through for my badly sprained ankle last year. Most of these evolutions are designed to increase the flexibility of my lower legs. It's a sad story, really, because running actually makes you less flexible, so I'm pretty tight from the thigh down. If ya know what I mean. I use that rope to try to pull my leg towards me and stretch my hamstring. Frankly, with as small a stretch as I get, I can hardly believe that I can walk: Much more fun is rolling the metal tube with my foot. It's like a little foot massage! Breaks up the scarring and swelling in my arch. Of course, my favorite part is the real massage: Then I get to run on this extra-deluxe treadmill. Apparently, it cost $100,000! And it feels like it too — as good as the springiest, softest track I've ever been on. The treadmill Look how comfy that track looks! And all these controls! But after the run comes the ice! Some people love ice, some people hate it. I hate it for the first couple of minutes, then I tolerate it 'cause it makes me feel better — but I don't get the soothing feeling that others get. It could be worse, though, last time I got physical therapy I had "The Bucket" A trash can filled with ice — ouchie! Well, supposedly I'm cured, and I'll have the appointment to prove that to the doc tomorrow. Updates as events warrant.... Read on...

Synes-what-now?

Jul 7, 2003 in Various Frailties

When I was but a wee bairn, I loved to read books because of the colors on the pages. Not the pictures, but the words. Different words had different pastel colors, and the pages were filled with disorganized rainbows. I remember mentioning this in fourth grade to some friends, and they looked at me like I was crazy. Which I guess I was, since I apparently suffered from synesthesia, a condition in which people have difficulty distinguishing between various sensory inputs. Poor little me saw words as colors. But I never got confused — although I was sometimes distracted; words and colors were distinct in my head. Anyway, convinced that what I saw was wrong, and being a geeky boy who wanted to fit in, I started to ignore the colors. They went away — whether because of and now the pages of books are just one color. A few years ago I found out a co-worker was familiar with the phenomenon, and had a good friend who still was synesthetic. That's when I learned I wasn't some kind of freak, and started to really miss the colors. I think being synesthetic at a young age affected how I read. While colors are gone, I still see pages as filled with different densities of letters — something that's similar, but not identical, to the weight of letters in areas of that page. I don't start at the beginning of a sentence; instead, my eye falls to a comfortable, soft place in a paragraph, maybe next to a corner, and I move backwards from there, then forwards the rest of the way, sometimes skipping if there's a line in the text that draws my eye. It sounds pretty awful, but I actually read very quickly and with excellent comprehension. I see things that other people don't. But I'm not crazy! Not crazy at all!... Read on... (plus 1 Comments)

Ouchie I Broke My Orthopedic Pieces

Jun 17, 2003 in Various Frailties

Yea, verily, for I have been accursed by the Lord, and he hath burthen'd me with feet that are in the shape of a Z, or so sayeth the expensive orthopedists at the Kerlan-Jobe clinic near LAX. And the Lord did say, your feet shall poorly absorb the stresses of their frequent impacts with the ground, and instead your shins will be overstressed, and you shall have shinsplints, and, should you not get them treated promptly, I shall rain down upon you a plague of stress fractures. And even whenst thine feet do bend and flex to support your weight as you jog, they will flex inefficiently and the plantar fascia become pulled and inflamed. And yea so your arches shall hurt every day, but most of all first thing in the morning. And it only took, what, 600 hours to find this out? See, the problem with going to a clinic that's world-famous for working on top athletes is that you wait quite some time to see your doctor. And, at Kerlan-Jobe, you're likely to find that half the world is there at any one time. But at least they have a TV in the waiting room, so The People's Court could keep me company. The big plus was that, unlike the Recognizable Sports Stars I was there with, I'm not badly broken. Sadly, I didn't take any pictures of the doc manipulating my feet in odd and painful ways. "Tell me when it hurts," he says as he digs his thumbs into the fleshy part of my arch. Well, good morning to you too! The prescription: physical therapy and orthotics. I kind of look forward to the orthotics 'cause the doctor there is a slightly batty guy from Utah. He told me how he once tried really hard to run, because he thought all runners had such a good attitude and he thought that, maybe if he ran, he'd get a good attitude too. He tried so hard he actually ran three times in this one week. But he didn't feel good so he gave up. At least he didn't accuse me of having an attitude problem! Although apparently my ankle tendons are so inflexible that he thought I was holding my feet rigid as he cast them for the mould for the orthotics. I have no idea what that says about me. It can't be good.... Read on...