Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Sympathy my ass!!

I think my body is turning into a circus (cue the circus themed music)...

I went to get fitted for my left leg's compression stocking. You see these all the time on older citizens, you know, it's flesh colored and shiny. Thick, verrrry smooth looking (for the vain ones) and tight. Once my ankle and calf measurements were taken, I was presented with my very first set of compression stockings!! Joy, joy, joy!! Yowza - these suckers are tight!! You have to don special $5 gloves, though they may look like the kind you buy to wash dishes (for $3), apparently, they are not the same. They're not comfortable, but then, they are not meant to be (can you tell I'm quoting the therapy specialist that fitted me? Kinda wanted to smack her, in a gentle, teasing, hurts so good way...) Like the lymphedema therapy wrappings, the compression stocking is a more permanent way for me to control my leg swelling. So, I think I'm all set and the therapist raises my right pant leg, I'm assuming for shits and giggles...

She looks at my right leg and then at me. "You have what I believe to be sympathetic dystrophy (S.D.) in your right leg. Do you know what S.D. is?" I nod my head in agreement but my Mom chimes in with a, "Can you please explain" kind of question. To put it in a few words, my right leg is feeling sorry for my left leg and is now having sympathy symptoms. Yup, my right leg pities my left leg sooooo much that it wants to share its pain. Damn. I might conclude that my right leg is jealous of all the attention the left leg has received the past two years but I don't wanna for fear it kinda sorta might be true knowing my perverse body and it's strange, strange ways. It really is a case of the right side knowing the left side. D.S. is not uncommon, of course, but puleeeze, couldn't this one have skirted around me? My parents and I have noticed the red discoloration around my ankle and lower calf (like my left leg) and the swelling of my calf (like my left leg) and I've been complaining of that "foot is asleep" feeling on and off for a few months. Long story short, my right leg has its own matching compression stocking now. Oh joy, joy, joy!! I have officially joined the ranks of the old and infirmed. I was pretty close anyway, but now I'm dressing like 'em!! Pretty soon I'm going to break out the mothballs and stale rose-scented perfume. That's what I think an old lady smells like, anyway. Okay, nothing against the older set. I'm venting and frustrated - I'm sure there are lots of elder women out there that can kick my ass in most anything physical - oh - and they can drive!!! More than I can do, nowadays.

Every time I say sympathetic dystrophy I giggle. Once again, I'm reduced to laughter because my body doesn't know when to stop. I should start selling tickets to this circus!!


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