Sep. 15th, 2016

kshandra: The Burning Man effigy, lit in blue neon, arms by his sides; an orange half-moon is visible over his shoulder. (BurningMan)
Back when [livejournal.com profile] dafydd and I were still together, it was common (perhaps even traditional) to hear him declare in early September, "Well, time to go fix what Burning Man broke."

He only ever said it about his truck. [personal profile] gridlore and I aren't that lucky.

As noted in his own journal, Doug broke three metatarsals in his right foot while we were starting to tear down camp on the final Monday night of the event. I asked, more than once, if he wanted to go to Medical; he declined, and I was too brain-fried, despite having veto power, to insist on it.

It was Wednesday morning before he finally admitted "Okay, this isn't just the neuropathy; something's fucked up." Fortunately, Renown was a direct shot up 2nd Street from our beloved Grand Sierra, and everyone we worked with there was terrific. They got him splinted up and sent us on our way with crutches and both print-outs and digital copies of his X-rays. (They offered him The Good Drugs, as well, but we would have had to fill the script while we were still in Nevada, and we were already nervous about what Medicare was going to do with this visit. Fortunately, Doug had had the good sense to pack the rest of the meds he'd been given for last month's procedure, so he wasn't in complete agony.)

Meanwhile, I keep looking down at my own right shin and wondering WTF is going on...

As noted in the tweet above, I finally stopped trying to grin and bear it on Sunday and took myself to Urgent Care. The doctor I saw said I should get an ultrasound the next day to rule out a possible abscess, and come back to see him once the test was done.

15 minutes after calling me to schedule said ultrasound, they called me back and said "We're cancelling that appointment, the doctor wants you to go to the ER instead."

Where I spent two hours and $200* to get diagnosed with leg pain. Dude, I told you that when I walked in here.

I spend the next two days faithfully taking the Motrin they gave me, then email my primary physician for a follow-up appointment when I don't see any improvement. (I'd also had truly atrocious blood pressure readings on both Sunday and Monday, and figured the sooner I got that seen to, the better.)

Gratifyingly, they called me this morning as I was getting ready for work, saying they could fit me in. Confusingly, my BP was back to what passes for normal for me (136/84 - not great, but miles better than the 209/95 they got in the ER on Monday). Reassuringly (if a bit frustratingly), my doctor said "Yeah, it's a contusion, and where it is will take a long time to fully heal. Keep it elevated, heat or ice depending upon what feels better."

In the words of the National Enquirer's old gossip column: "...and how was YOUR week?"




* It was going to be $250, but when I stopped by the cashier's office after today's appointment, they gave me a Prompt Payment discount. File under "linings, pewter."

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