The Blackburn Digest

* Jesus Christ Superstar (Revival) - Andrew Lloyd Webber & Tim Rice.

I Really, REALLY dislike meeting new doctors! There’s always a “learning curve”, during which they flex their medical credentials and I counter with 26 years of my own experience with RA. It doesn’t matter, very much, if it is a dental surgeon or an orthopedic surgeon, an orthotics expert or a new GP ~ I have to give them a crash course in ‘Chris Blackburn - Informed & Stubborn Patient’. It doesn’t always go smoothly. . . . . OK - it rarely goes smoothly! Medical professionals expect their statements to be taken as gospel. Um, No. Not likely with this patient!

I knew “Dr. P” (my Rheumatologist) was going to be less than pleased to see me in a ‘walking boot’, but that didn’t half cover his mood when I discussed my upcoming appointment with the orthopedic surgeon!

The rest of the “maintenance visit” went fine; we’re both delighted that I have responded quickly (again) to the Enbrel therapy, the Dexa scan (bone density test) read rather well for an old broad and he was impressed at how well the ‘attempted amputation’ had healed.

Then I told him I was scheduled to see Dr. B. on August 13th, to discuss surgery on both feet - that is when he began to growl! I understand (and agree); we’re both expecting the proposal to be joint fusion, and that’s a very bad idea on so many levels!

We’ll see:)

Today was the day every person owned by a cat (or dog) dreads. . . . .the day one has to say Goodbye.

Sundance and his sister, Cassidy, came to us as near-newborn kittens after a huge rain storm in the summer of 1999. When son Thomas brought them to me, their eyes weren’t open yet, and their ears didn’t “appear” for several days. We bottle fed the two of them, and Sundance’s playful but assertive nature showed up from the very beginning. Cassidy would nurse hungrily, but it was easy to keep a grip on her and on the bottle. Sundance? He would wiggle, squirm, and quite often yank the nipple right out of the bottle! There we would be; suddenly bathed in formula, and Sundance demanding “more food - right NOW”!

* “Please Don’t Eat the Daisies” -1960 - lyrics by By Dunham.

Today has been a bit of a roller-coaster ride! I had an appointment with our family doctor this morning…… although I had scheduled this before breaking my toe and had planned on discussing other issues, I knew The Foot (which won’t fit into a shoe or slipper) was going to garner attention the most attention. Oh yeah! Dear, sweet Dr. R sort of skimmed through my other questions and concerns, focused on the obviously broken and misaligned toe, ordered x-rays and went just slightly ballistic. Vocal alarms were sounded - “very bad break”, “must see surgeon immediately!” (Aw, come on. . . .all of the toes are dislocated; what’s the big deal?) Um, yes - that’s when my “ticket” for the ride was issued!

When you think you have a handle on things, that handle is going to break off! (I’m sure this observation appears somewhere in “Murphy’s Laws” - LOL!)

I haven’t been able to wear a shoe, slipper or ACE elastic bandage on my right foot since my July 9th encounter with the vicious & anti-social dining room chair, but frequent cleaning, salt water soaks and triple-antibiotic ointment had allowed the deep split to close without any sign of infection. I’m beginning to suspect that the fourth toe (neighbor to the “baby toe”) was & is just badly sprained, but the fifth/baby toe is definitely broken. I suspect it isn’t a nice, clean, non-displaced fracture, either. Still. . . .with every toe dislocated prior to this injury (thank you, RA), there’s little point in seeing an orthopedic surgeon! The overall swelling was nearly gone. . . .the deep blue/purple purple band under all five toes was fading. . .I just needed to be patient. Right? Um- - -wrong!

Confucius say “Never celebrate success of journey until destination is reached”. (He probably didn’t, but . . . . . .)

Poor DH got a 4 am wake-up call - - - well, more of a wake-up whimper, actually. The story began at 1 am; I’d been courting sleep for over an hour and gave it up as a futile enterprise. There were just too many unhappy joints sending pain messages*, and my brain insisted on a detailed & repetitive review of the many steps remaining on my current miniature project. (*Although the renewed Enbrel therapy does seem to be making a difference, we’ve had unstable weather & bouncing air pressure for several days. Happily, it has brought a bit of welcome rain along with the discomfort!)

The “personal computer” age started fairly early in the Blackburn household; Radio Shack introduced their TRS 80 in the late 1970’s, and DH adopted one in 1977-1978. Several upgrades later, DD adopted one of his retired computers (a Packard Bell, I think), and industriously launched what became one of the longest operating local BB’s (Bulletin Boards…… pre-Internet, verrrrrry sloooow connection on dial-up modems….if you remember BB’s, you’re over 30!). Not long after, DS adopted another computer from the ’stock-pile’ in the loft, and began teaching it new graphics tricks. There were now three lovable “geeks” in the my household. . .each adding to the ever-growing collection of cast-off motherboards, monitors and cable tangles in the stash as they upgraded to newer, more powerful systems! Meanwhile, other than a rudimentary grasp of the terminology (gained simply by osmosis), I remained computer-illiterate; my function was to identify creative ways to fund the new systems and peripherals constantly appearing on Wish Lists Learning to use a PC was waaaay down my personal to-do list! Well, think about it: there was a huge Embarrassment Factor involved in trying to master the mysteries of computer operation while surrounded by three in-house experts! Yikes!