Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Fashion Plate Barbie Goes to the Doctor

Right before my appointment with the hip surgeon yesterday, my mom and I were at my condo packing some stuff up for the big move next week.  I ignored my mom's pleas to sit down and relax and allow her pack stuff and I reached up onto a high kitchen shelf for a bottle of vinegar.  OF COURSE the shelf came crashing down and two bottles of vinegar shattered all over the counter, the floor and my body.  

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.


  1. Oh gosh, I'm so sorry Taryn. That sucks beyond belief. SOUNDS LIKE, though, the surgery will finally fix the problem? I'll keep my fingers crossed for you.

  2. Oh, man. That is some sucky news, besides the quick surgery and will-make-you-feel-better part. I wonder if the surgeon will have an opening?

    (He might make an opening for you. I mean, his exam table must be so shiny from the indirect vinegar exposure. And if anyone ever stuck a sticker with particularly stubborn backing on the table, that sucker is GONE now.)

    Thinking of you...

  3. Awww, man, that sinks, literally. (The vinegar, not the surgery.)
    Sorry you have to go under the knife, or robot hands or laser beam, or whatever new method they are using to opening people up these days. Does this mean you get a break from the strict bed rest until your surgery in December? Can you go to Target and pick up old men with your scooter?

  4. 10 seconds to live.....that doesn't allow for panic and stress. I think I would just rip my clothes off if I was told that.

    sucks about your tendons and your Florida trip. Kisses pouring over to you from Rogers Park right now. xoxoxoxo