Radioactive Fallout

The doctor looked at me and said, I think you have a stress fracture in the right metatarsal. You'll need a bone scan so I can see the extent of your injury. And just like that I was fitted for a cast and drove off to Concord Imaging, my favorite imaging center. They're nice and it looks and feels like a spa when you walk in, which helps calm me down. I'm on a first name basis with Alma now, we swap stories like we're old friends as she injects me with radioactive isotope. When she maneuvers my foot under the camera I refrain from crying out in pain because I have convinced myself that I really don't have a stress fracture but am instead just reacting like a big baby because I want some extra attention. Even though it really does hurt and the doctor himself noted that the pain was severe.

Then the isotope begins to race through my blood stream down to my injured foot. It pools in the exact location that has been causing so much pain and glows an unearthly white on the screen. And I know that I'm not overreacting. The proof is on the screen and I begin to cry. Somehow seeing it in black and fluorescent white gives me the permission I need to feel the pain and my foot begins to throb. When the initial part of the scan is over I cannot walk. Instead I hobble to my chair and fight the sobs that want to take over. And then I pull it together, put on my cast and drive to work.

5 hours and 32 ounces of water later I am back at Concord chatting with Alma. She compares the new images to those from my bone scan in April that revealed a diagnosis of osteoarthritis. This time the right foot definitely shows a new injury and it glows much brighter than the silly old arthritis, highlighting the inflammation. For the next 45 minutes I try to lay perfectly still as my foot is placed in odd positions so the scan can capture all angels for the doctor to review. As I lay there I continue to berate myself for not seeking treatment sooner, for thinking that I'm still 26 instead of 5 months shy of 40, for trying to be brave or ignore the pain until walking was out of the question.

I'm grateful that despite my stupidity the radioactive fallout of this procedure was mild. Yes the pain is severe, but the prognosis is good. I will be in a cast for 4-6 weeks but there appears to be no permanent damage. I will be forced to care for my foot and not abuse it by pushing it harder than I should. That means no more running or extensive walking, but instead biking or God-forbid water aerobics. It also means old lady shoes instead of heels, once I'm out of my Frankenstein cast that is. And my Frankenstein cast is huge - because in order to fit my ginormous calves I had to get a cast made for Arnold, not Angelina. Hey it ain't pretty but at least I already have a costume for Halloween!

My "Frankenfeet" - driving shoe and walking cast.

Seriously, Please Don't

I have spent the past 14 years of my life working for doctors, and for the most part I enjoy the field of medicine, at least the administrative side. But boy have I had some interesting experiences. While most of us could be considered "quirky" by others, (especially me!) there are some people whose names MUST appear beside the word if you were to look it up in the dictionary!

Currently I work for GI doctors, specialists who deal with everything from the Esophagus to the Colon. That means a lot of colonoscopies, which in turn means a lot of "preps", which is the industry term for cleaning out the colon before that dreaded procedure. Preps have come a long way and are now available in pill form which alleviates the need to drink that hideous, chalky liquid before becoming best friends with the great, white, porcelain throne. But it's important to know that preps have never included the use of suppositories, unfortunately we had a patient who didn't get that memo...

She was a very old lady (close to 90), a gentle, kind, mannerly woman; the kind of woman you imagine as the best grandmother in the world - capable of dispensing warm hugs, encouragement and the best home-cooking ever. She was very, very nice and endearing. But she was old and easily confused. The day after her consultation she called and spoke to an equally kind and gentle medical assistant. The patient was concerned because she was experiencing extreme discomfort in preparing for the procedure. The MA tried to reassure her that the discomfort was not abnormal but the patient was adamant that the suppositories were not working. At this point the MA's ears perked up because suppositories are not normally prescribed before a colonoscopy. She asked the patient the name of the prescription and was alarmed when she discovered that the patient had mistaken the tablet, to be taken orally, for a suppository, to be inserted rectally. The MA gently explained that the prescription was to be taken by mouth with a glass of water to which the patient replied, "Oh! I was wondering how I was going to get 32 up there." Needless to say we now stress that there are NO suppositories involved in colon preps. Why would you put something in your colon when you're trying to clean it out??? Mercy me!

Before entering the GI field, I was the Administrator for a mental health clinic, which also provided me with many memorable experiences. At times I had to restrain patients, call the police/911 and confiscate razor blades. I also cried when patients regressed or couldn't heal from their emotional wounds. But on the other hand I saw people grow and deal with their problems. I saw marriages renewed, depression lifted and Schizophrenics and Bipolars stabilized. It was very rewarding to be part of the process that allowed so many to heal.

I have a heart of compassion for those struggling with serious mental illness. And now that I work for GI doctors, I have heart of compassion for those struggling with embarrassing physical ailments. But no matter how sick a person is, there are certain things that should never be done.

I humbly offer the following insider tips based on my own experiences (yes all of these things have really happened):

*Please don't assume that I secretly work for the CIA, the only reason I know your name, rank and serial number is because you gave it to me. Accusing me of being a spy will make me wonder what you're really up to... Besides, if I were a spy it would be dangerous to blow my cover.

*On the other hand, since I'm really NOT a spy, please don't assume that I know who you are unless you tell me. There are hundreds of patients who visit or call the office, it's unlikely that I will remember you unless you do the last thing on this list...

*Please don't shove anything furry and/or squirming in my face. I WILL scream and possibly cry. Then your poor "gerbil, mouse, hamster, ferret, squirrel, lizard, snake" will likely panic, get loose and scare everyone else in the office. So just don't.

*And if you own said "gerbil, mouse, hamster, ferret, squirrel, lizard, snake", please don't bring homemade cookies, cakes or food to me, as I will not eat them, EVER, and neither will the doctor.

*Please don't leave your psychiatrist's office and attempt to hit on me by asking the following, "So, are you a patient here?" I can assure you I won't be flattered.

*Please don't yell at me because the doctor is running late, it's really not my fault. And don't blame the pharmaceutical reps either, the doctor has to meet with them to get the samples you want...

*Please don't wait until Friday afternoon to request a refill for a medication you "can't live without". I do not have the legal authority to refill your prescription without the doctor's approval, and the doctor is not usually available on Friday afternoon, which means you will have to wait for an on-call doctor to be paged, contact the pharmacy and approve the medication you "forgot" you so desperately needed....

*Please don't discuss your bodily functions in the waiting room or with the administrative staff, I'm not lying when I say that NO ONE but the doctor is as fascinated with your bowel movements as you are...

*And most importantly, WHATEVER you do, PLEASE DO NOT bring a plastic grocery bag full of your excrement into the office. EVERYONE will be completely disgusted and the doctor will likely schedule a psychiatric evaluation for you, seriously, please don't.