The follow up medical routine wasn’t quite so cheery. A 12-day, after appt. with an orthopedist, confirmed that the accident had indeed caused bone fragments to slice through the tri-cep tendons of my left, upper arm. The doctor advised that surgery was necessary to repair the tendon attachment, using anchors to tie the tendons to the remaining elbow. Recovery time could be anywhere from three to six months. Well, I thought, “It is what it is.” I had thrown the dice and come up snake eyes.
Okay, so now what? A subsequent meeting, with the doctor’s surgical coordinator, sent us on a rapid run towards an intake center a few miles down the road. I was already on information overload. Without Mary with me, I probably would have just run away to South America and become a hill bandito or some other oddity. We needed to jump through all of these hoops in order to qualify for the scheduled surgery, three days hence. After an ekg and a BP test at the clinic, the center referred us to the Physician’s Regional Hospital nearby. Tinkers to Evers to Chance?
We drove over to the Physician’s Regional Hospital, parked in the lot and registered at the PRH entrance portal. After a wait, a chest x-ray and a blood test at their respective lab sites here passed that hurdle. But, another hurdle had been imposed. One of the PA’s said that I needed to go to a cardiologist for final clearance. Jesus, Herman Christ! Does anyone else want to stress us out some more? No wonder I had an elevated BP. This five-hour, mad-house run was more stress than the original accident and emergency room visit. A few calls later and we had a Tuesday morning appt. with a cardiologist, in South Naples, for Tuesday morning. With this level of stress, it was a wonder that I didn’t blow an aneurism. We made it home by six P.M., after an epic five-hour medical run. A vodka martini was my most logical solution. And it did help with stress levels. Let’s see what the Cardiologist has to say. At this rate, I was looking at a three to six -month recovery rate after surgery.
Tuesday morning dawned bright, sunny and cold at forty-one degrees, chilly for Florida. I was determined to leave early, for the appointment, drive slowly and get to the Cardiologist with plenty of time to avoid another stress induced BP spike. We achieved our goal. The BP test showed a much-lowered BP rate! The Cardiologist reviewed the data, of a new EKG test, and said that there was only minor indications of the propensity to develop high blood pressure. In my mind’s ear I was waiting for the dreaded “I can’t clear you for the surgery.” Instead, this thoughtful Physician suggested that I go for an immediate Cardiac sonogram. The lab was nearby and her staff got me an appt. within the hour. At this point, it was only one more hoop to jump through and I was happy to oblige.
The outpatient services department took me in, sat us down and said they would get to me forthwith. They did as promised. The hour-long ultra sound sonogram of the heart and arteries was thorough to the max. At that point, I would have jumped through flaming hoops to get a shot at the Thursday surgery.
It had been another four-hour odyssey through the wilds of South Florida Medicine. But, we didn’t care. We had the desired clearances in hand. We stopped for lunch at the California Kitchen Restaurant at Coconut Point is Estero, glad that we had made it over all of the hurdles. In season, this process would have taken us a month. Still, we knew enough that we would run everything down on the morrow to see if all of the boxes were checked and that we were a go for surgery on Thursday. We had learned that it isn’t being cynical to check up on all of those who had promised us something, just thorough.
Later, we got a surprise phone call from Dr. Sara Masson. She explained the results of the sonogram and suggested that when all of the surgery hoopla calmed down, I should come and see her again, perhaps in January. At this point I would have run down the street, howling at the setting sun, if she requested it, to get the needed clearance.
After all of this drama, the actual surgery will probably be anticlimactic. But, I will record, for the purpose of continuing the story, as soon after the experience as I am able.
(To be continued.)
The follow up medical routine wasn’t quite so cheery. A 12-day, after appt. with an orthopedist, confirmed that the accident had indeed caused bone fragments to slice through the tri-cep tendons of my left, upper arm. The doctor advised that surgery was necessary to repair the tendon attachment, using anchors to tie the tendons to the remaining elbow. Recovery time could be anywhere from three to six months. Well, I thought, “It is what it is.” I had thrown the dice and come up snake eyes.
Okay, so now what? A subsequent meeting, with the doctor’s surgical coordinator, sent us on a rapid run towards an intake center a few miles down the road. I was already on information overload. Without Mary with me, I probably would have just run away to South America and become a hill bandito or some other oddity. We needed to jump through all of these hoops in order to qualify for the scheduled surgery, three days hence. After an ekg and a BP test at the clinic, the center referred us to the Physician’s Regional Hospital nearby. Tinkers to Evers to Chance?
We drove over to the Physician’s Regional Hospital, parked in the lot and registered at the PRH entrance portal. After a wait, a chest x-ray and a blood test at their respective lab sites here passed that hurdle. But, another hurdle had been imposed. One of the PA’s said that I needed to go to a cardiologist for final clearance. Jesus, Herman Christ! Does anyone else want to stress us out some more? No wonder I had an elevated BP. This five-hour, mad-house run was more stress than the original accident and emergency room visit. A few calls later and we had a Tuesday morning appt. with a cardiologist, in South Naples, for Tuesday morning. With this level of stress, it was a wonder that I didn’t blow an aneurism. We made it home by six P.M., after an epic five-hour medical run. A vodka martini was my most logical solution. And it did help with stress levels. Let’s see what the Cardiologist has to say. At this rate, I was looking at a three to six -month recovery rate after surgery.
Tuesday morning dawned bright, sunny and cold at forty-one degrees, chilly for Florida. I was determined to leave early, for the appointment, drive slowly and get to the Cardiologist with plenty of time to avoid another stress induced BP spike. We achieved our goal. The BP test showed a much-lowered BP rate! The Cardiologist reviewed the data, of a new EKG test, and said that there was only minor indications of the propensity to develop high blood pressure. In my mind’s ear I was waiting for the dreaded “I can’t clear you for the surgery.” Instead, this thoughtful Physician suggested that I go for an immediate Cardiac sonogram. The lab was nearby and her staff got me an appt. within the hour. At this point, it was only one more hoop to jump through and I was happy to oblige.
The outpatient services department took me in, sat us down and said they would get to me forthwith. They did as promised. The hour-long ultra sound sonogram of the heart and arteries was thorough to the max. At that point, I would have jumped through flaming hoops to get a shot at the Thursday surgery.
It had been another four-hour odyssey through the wilds of South Florida Medicine. But, we didn’t care. We had the desired clearances in hand. We stopped for lunch at the California Kitchen Restaurant at Coconut Point is Estero, glad that we had made it over all of the hurdles. In season, this process would have taken us a month. Still, we knew enough that we would run everything down on the morrow to see if all of the boxes were checked and that we were a go for surgery on Thursday. We had learned that it isn’t being cynical to check up on all of those who had promised us something, just thorough.
Later, we got a surprise phone call from Dr. Sara Masson. She explained the results of the sonogram and suggested that when all of the surgery hoopla calmed down, I should come and see her again, perhaps in January. At this point I would have run down the street, howling at the setting sun, if she requested it, to get the needed clearance.
After all of this drama, the actual surgery will probably be anticlimactic. But, I will record, for the purpose of continuing the story, as soon after the experience as I am able.
(To be continued.)