I took my broken father to the orthopedic yesterday.
I have a strong inkling that he will be the type of old man who goes to the doctors and run chores just to talk to other people.
We see these types of people all of the time at work; they come in, see the doctor, get their prescriptions and then chill, watch TV in the waiting room and spend
a little a lot of time talk to our clinical assistants. They aren’t waiting on rides or waiting for another appointment nearby. It’s like the old folk hang spot.
My mom dropped my dad off at the office and I met him there and sat with him through the appointment. We didn’t have to wait long to be called back to the room. The Medical Assistant came in and got the details of his fall. As she was walking out, dad started asking her questions about her ski history. It wasn’t much. She had barely been off of the east coast.
He then asked her if she wanted to see his helmet. She started to say “Your helmet?” but before she could finish her inquiry, Facebook (Yes! I said Facebook) was up on his phone and he was enlarging the picture on his phone. She was starting to get an itch to escape the room.
We waited, as people often do at doctors’ offices.
The doctor came in and went through the same thing. “Want to see my helmet?”
It’s all good. It was actually kind of cute.
I can only imagine that he’s bored already with not being able to move his arm. He can’t drive or even tie his shoes. He pretty much has to sit around the house all day and my parents’ dog isn’t all that entertaining. She’s awesome, but pretty lazy.
I am pretty sure he went through all of my Facebook photos the other day. I had a lot of “Your dad liked this picture” notifications on Facebook when I logged on. Good thing I deleted all those horrible, incriminating pictures…Just kidding, I’ve never had any incriminating pictures taken, ever. That’s not true either.
On a similar note, the orthopedic to whom I took my dad is the same one whom I see for my knee. We’ve become best friends forever over the years; we have bonded over drained fluid and cysts.
I let him know that I finally might have a diagnosis. Well…I did that thing where I self-diagnosed myself using the internet. I know most doctors are huge fans of that.
Intermittent Hyrdarthrosis. It means periodic fluid on the joints. It doesn’t sound like a huge breakthrough, I know. We knew I had recurring fluid on my knees.
But! It is a breakthrough.
IH is a pretty rare thing, but it looks like it is actually caused by a gene mutation. [Insert your obligatory mutant monster jokes here.] It can be bettered – not fix – by some low-dose medication.
That’s potentially good news, right?
I have an appointment next week. I’ll have to let you know if I’ll be participating in any experimental drugs that could lead to superpowers.