I’ve written about the happenstances of old age in the past. It’s a consequential topic as one stares down death. It’s a theme of my blog.
Today’s post is about aches and pains. More specifically, I had the ache and others were a pain.
A dozen years ago we traveled to Colorado to attend a young man’s graduation. There are many epic tales within that three day weekend, not the least of which is the fact that I fell the first night, severely spraining my ankle.
While the incident occurred in a bar… NO, I was not a falling-down drunk. NOT. Well, not that time, teehee.
Lack of treatment due to a decidedly egocentric orthopedist aggrieves me still. Not only did he not refer me for the necessary physical therapy, but his mandatory x-ray re-injured me and our health insurance was charged for a full length leg brace I didn’t receive.
Read it again – a full length leg brace for an ankle sprain! Yikes. Another of the medical malpractice suits I didn’t pursue, in favor of focusing of finding my own best help to get better.
Since my internist referred me to that turkey, I began to explore other physicians who would order the requisite PT. I listened to my body and knew what it needed, yet sometimes following the inaccurate advice of yoga instructors to re-aggravate the strain. I finally found an orthopedist who ordered PT after a lengthy summer of coping, limping, and applying copious amounts of Arnica and ice. My ankle improved.
Recently re-sprained and I knew what to do, the regimen advised by my awesome PT, including KT tape.
But, wouldn’t you know it, the sight of my taped ankle not only brought forth ridicule and disparagement (someone said I only wore the tape to get attention!), but advice.
Seriously, I’m a baby-boomer, not a twelve-year-old.
What triggers people’s boldness to offer this array of unwarranted, unnecessary, and down-right demeaning comments? Whaddayathink?
BTW: do my feet make me look old?