It was 1:17 and we had to be at the doctor in twenty minutes. It was fifteen minutes away. Oh, also I had no clothes at my condo and was covered from head to toe in vinegar, and of course it was saturated completely around my right hip, because I really am just lucky like that. I changed into the only clothes I had: plaid fleece snow pants and a fleece zip up jacket. It was 75 degrees outside and trust me, the outfit drew some looks. And of course my mom had to point it out to the doctor and his assistants and tell them the whole story.
Did I mention I wrecked my shoes in the vinegar incident and was wearing blue Crocs? If Stacy and Clinton were filming yesterday I will absolutely be starring in a Very Special Episode of "What Not to Wear."
So, we got some bad news. Even after four weeks of bed rest, my hip is not healing correctly. One tendon is torn from my hip bone and a second tendon is torn inside of that tendon, just to be mean. There is a lack of blood flow to the inner tendon and that may be standing in the way of the healing process. I have to have surgery, dum dum dummmm.
Good news: it is arthroscopic and I'll be able to be discharged that day.
Bad news: the recovery is a bitch and involves six weeks in a hip brace and several months of rehab and bed rest. More bad news: my doctor can't do the surgery until December, so my big escape to Florida is now in jeopardy, which stinks.
I was pretty disappointed that all the other treatments didn't work and that I have laid around for months and months doing nothing for no reason. Also it's not fun to be in pain constantly. Today I heard a story that put it all in perspective for me, though.
A middle aged woman went to her doctor for some test results. He came into the exam room and said, "I'm really sorry to have to tell you this but you're dying."
The lady was shocked. "What? Dying? Are you sure? How much time do I have left?"
The doctor nodded sadly and said, "Ten."
"Ten? Ten years? Ten months? Ten what?"
"Nine... eight..." the doctor replied.