I must have done something right today. My orthopedist, Dr. P, said I have a good attitude. In doctorspeak, of course that means the right outlook for healing. In spite of my weekend in the doldrums, I am apparently mending quite well. The doctor showed me my x-ray, and pointed out where new bone has already grown in.
If I wasn't so squeamish -- I threw up once in a restaurant when, after dinner, my friend talked about a hysterectomy she'd seen performed on the Surgery Channel -- I'd know more about the human body and this bone formation thing maybe wouldn't seem so much like a voodoo miracle at work. As things stand, I think the fact that I'm just walking around, doing whatever, and growing new bone at the same time and without even trying is some truly amazing stuff. Does this type of thing go on everyday? All the time? Or am I a medical marvel?
Because of all the new bone -- you should see it, it looks really pretty -- Dr. P announced that today is graduation day. I don't have to wear the CAM Walker II anymore; I've moved up to the Aircast air cast. I am loving this jiggamathing just like the good doctor said I would. It stabilizes my leg in a way that I've long felt it needed. And I can sleep in it. Not something I could do with the cumbersome CAM that spends all day kissing the ground like a regular shoe.
Ever since my accident, I've been meaning to ask the doctor or one of the nurses what the difference is between a break and a fracture in relation to bone. I had the impression that they were the same thing, but so many people kept asking me, Did you break your leg, or just fracture it? I can solve the mystery today. A fracture is not a cracked bone. It's a broken bone. A break and a fracture are indeed the same deal. In medicine, they like to sound a bit fancier than the rest of us.
Well, that's my leg report for today. Check out my air cast (try not to get distracted by the Marie Claire Idees lounging underneath my foot, heh). Let's be grateful for the low light, as it masks the hirsute nature of my leg. Any excuse not to shave at least one limb.
Heather mentioned that she wishes I would have taken a picture of the Kenmore. I wish I had, too. But you know how it is when you buy a good magazine? One you've searched for and really, really wanted? You know that feeling that you only want to crack it in the privacy and comfort of your own home so that you can delight in it and maybe go a little crazy over it without anyone interrupting you? That's the feeling I had. I mean, it was like I was going to date the darn thing. I saw that it was gorgeous, but I didn't want to oogle it full on, not yet. I felt a little, um, how else to say it? shy, in its presence. Ahem.
Also, because the seller was already having separation anxiety (the machine had belonged to her great aunt), I didn't want to seem insensitive by doing my happy dance right then and there. Man it was hard not to, though.
I feel that this machine has everything I need. But my mama didn't raise no fool, and I know that's exactly what I would look like if I made some declaration that I won't be buying any more machines. I won't for a while, but I did hear what Heather said about being a Bernina girl. ;)