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I wrote that geocaching was a good way to get out without overdoing it, but I gotta face up to the fact that I overdid it. I'm still learning what all the signals are. It's very easy for me to not know I'm crossing the line if I've had lots of breaks throughout the day.
My square dance friends were very understanding tonight, and they let me sit and watch them (instead of dancing) while I periodically rested my right forefoot on an ice pack. I sure hope I don't have to give up square dancing. I could take a month off and still be an okay dancer, but if I take six months off I will not be good at it when I return. And it would be very rough on me if I had to quit for years or permanently.
[LJ-CUT TEXT="My mental state"]
I vacillate hugely between periods of hope (I'll find the answer! I'll rest it or ice it or stretch it or massage it or medicate it or get surgery or something, and I'll be able-bodied again!) and periods of despair (why bother doing anything? it'll never get any better). I never did like roller coasters, and emotional ones are no exception.
I've got a slowly growing ball of anger at the entire medical profession. It doesn't help that in doing my 2004 taxes I saw how much money I've spent on this so far. I have no diagnosis, no prognosis, no way to make improvements, no estimate of when I'll have any of these things, and no information about how (eg tests) to get any of these things. No doctor seems even *interested* in a diagnosis or a prognosis. Each doctor I see calls the previous one an idiot, some more politely than others. Each doctor tries his or her own pet theory, charges me a chunk of money, and gets no results. Not a one will admit they don't know and send me along to someone who might. It's as if there's a vast conspiracy trying to PREVENT me from getting any useful medical care of any kind at all. (I know that's not really what's going on, but from the outside it sure does look like it.) To say it's frustrating would be quite the understatement.
(I know, "find another doctor". Anyone want to loan me the money for it, or even suggest a budget limit?)
(Comments about how wonderful YOUR doctor is are not real helpful here, 'k? Unless your doctor is a podiatrist, is in my area, and is taking new patients, in which case please do let me know.)
In fairness, my latest podiatrist has only seen me once. I'll let her know her first attempt isn't working, ask whether she thinks she knows what's wrong, and ask when and how she thinks she WILL know. Also in fairness, my previous podiatrist doesn't know he failed, 'cause his last attempt was so silly that I gave up on him and haven't spoken to him in months. Feedback is a necessary part of all this, so it's my job to tell him I'm still searching. *sigh*
And then, of course, I look around and see that things could be so much worse. I *can* walk a little. I can drive to work and do my work. Perspective, perspective. (But if one more sixty-five-year-old tells me smarmily that I'm "too young to be in this much pain" I just might smack him.)
[/LJ-CUT]
One day at a time, one step at a time. It's all any of us can do I suppose.
My square dance friends were very understanding tonight, and they let me sit and watch them (instead of dancing) while I periodically rested my right forefoot on an ice pack. I sure hope I don't have to give up square dancing. I could take a month off and still be an okay dancer, but if I take six months off I will not be good at it when I return. And it would be very rough on me if I had to quit for years or permanently.
[LJ-CUT TEXT="My mental state"]
I vacillate hugely between periods of hope (I'll find the answer! I'll rest it or ice it or stretch it or massage it or medicate it or get surgery or something, and I'll be able-bodied again!) and periods of despair (why bother doing anything? it'll never get any better). I never did like roller coasters, and emotional ones are no exception.
I've got a slowly growing ball of anger at the entire medical profession. It doesn't help that in doing my 2004 taxes I saw how much money I've spent on this so far. I have no diagnosis, no prognosis, no way to make improvements, no estimate of when I'll have any of these things, and no information about how (eg tests) to get any of these things. No doctor seems even *interested* in a diagnosis or a prognosis. Each doctor I see calls the previous one an idiot, some more politely than others. Each doctor tries his or her own pet theory, charges me a chunk of money, and gets no results. Not a one will admit they don't know and send me along to someone who might. It's as if there's a vast conspiracy trying to PREVENT me from getting any useful medical care of any kind at all. (I know that's not really what's going on, but from the outside it sure does look like it.) To say it's frustrating would be quite the understatement.
(I know, "find another doctor". Anyone want to loan me the money for it, or even suggest a budget limit?)
(Comments about how wonderful YOUR doctor is are not real helpful here, 'k? Unless your doctor is a podiatrist, is in my area, and is taking new patients, in which case please do let me know.)
In fairness, my latest podiatrist has only seen me once. I'll let her know her first attempt isn't working, ask whether she thinks she knows what's wrong, and ask when and how she thinks she WILL know. Also in fairness, my previous podiatrist doesn't know he failed, 'cause his last attempt was so silly that I gave up on him and haven't spoken to him in months. Feedback is a necessary part of all this, so it's my job to tell him I'm still searching. *sigh*
And then, of course, I look around and see that things could be so much worse. I *can* walk a little. I can drive to work and do my work. Perspective, perspective. (But if one more sixty-five-year-old tells me smarmily that I'm "too young to be in this much pain" I just might smack him.)
[/LJ-CUT]
One day at a time, one step at a time. It's all any of us can do I suppose.
