Embracing the Needle

The last 10 days have been a bit tumultuous in terms of dealing with my ankle. To say that I became obsessed with the whole topic is no exaggeration, and while I generally enjoy obsessions this one was no fun, leading to overindulgences of the fattening sort as well as the usual harbinger of obsession: the inability to think of anything else.

So, yes, I did everyone who reads here a major favor by not posting. I'd like to thank Brian and my mother for listening to me talk about my ankle ad nauseum. Also, thank you to the mom of my 6-year-old's little friend from school, who always greets me by saying, "How's your ankle?" Bless her heart.

My neighbor, who broke her knee Christmas week, was on track to heal before me, perhaps even before I got an accurate diagnosis. Now, though, I have hope of beating her to full-activity status. I will give you the shortest version I can muster. Which won't be all that short.

When I last posted, I had had an abnormal bone scan was scheduled for a CT scan. After an agonizing wait last Wednesday, the orthopedist finally called at 6:45pm to inform me that the scan was ... normal. No breaks, no fractures, just some "healing activity" on the bone which was too clinical for me to understand fully, he said. He suggested a cortisone shot (needle in joint! needle in joint!) or a trip to an ankle and foot specialist.

After a weepy evening, because I still lacked a diagnosis -- and who was to say that the cortisone would even work? -- I rallied in the morning and began Googling my brains out. Literally. At first I thought I had synovitis (chronic inflammation of the joint lining), but then I read my radiology reports again and figured I most likely had a bone bruise or occult fracture. I'm pretty sure I've read every Web site, message board and blog post about ankles that exists online. Yeah, it was a huge waste of my time.

By Thursday night, I'd put my brains back together and began looking for the most impressive foot and ankle orthopedist I could find. (This is where having a PPO for insurance comes in handy: no referrals required.) I began with the senior foot/ankle guy at Lahey Clinic, but he couldn't see me until March 11. Friday morning I called this guy, and he saw me Tuesday afternoon.

I drove to Newton-Wellesley Hospital with sweaty palms, anticipating having no choice but to get a cortisone shot. After giving birth to three babies with no drugs, I have no idea why I reacted the way I did to a cortisone shot. As my seven-year-old would say, I was a little wah-wah baby.

My new doctor has a state-of-the-art office and casually x-rayed my ankle and looked at the images on a monitor as we chatted. He never bothered to read the notes of my previous orthopedists. He looked at the MRI, read the report, stuck the film showing the fluid in my posterior subtalar joint (heel) up on the light board, then examined my foot. He loaded my CT scan onto his laptop, which provided a pretty cool 360 degree view of my ankle. Then he gave me the lowdown.

My bone scan was within normal limits, according to him. What I have is flexor hallicus longus tendonitis, also known as "dancer's tendonitis." This tendon passes through the heel, along the inside of the ankle, under the foot to the big toe. The clinical signs from his exam were a painful heel bone and a big toe that wouldn't bend up. He said he only sees this type of tendinitis once a year or so, and that's why the other orthopedists couldn't diagnose it.

At first I was skeptical, but then he began describing the kinds of activity I could do, such as riding a bike or an elliptical, and what I should avoid at all costs: walking or running uphill. Which made me remember my walking route from last fall, featuring two huge hills that I liked to sprint to the top of. Every day. Hmmm. Suddenly the diagnosis made total sense to me.

He said he'd "love to" aspirate the fluid, i.e., stick a big-ass needle in my ankle, to confirm the diagnosis and make sure he had the right spot to put the cortisone. I asked if the problem would resolve on its own with physical therapy and he said absolutely. So I said, "What the hell! Let's do the needle thing anyway!"

Yeah. Right.

During the flurry last week of not getting an answer from the CT and contemplating a cortisone shot, I scheduled an appointment with Mass. General Hospital's acupuncture/TCM guru. I see him a week from Saturday.

I've never had acupuncture before but I have high hopes. I'm going to ask him to address my ankle, my hip, and my obsession with using Google to diagnose/scare the crap out of myself. And perhaps my need to eat chocolate before bed, my inability to keep my house clean, my addiction to buying books ...

Relieved

Despite my recent Google-induced blog post to the contrary, my hip's in ship shape. No ominous shadows. No suspicious blurs. Just a hip. A normal hip.

Damn, did I scare the ever-loving shit out of myself or what? I also scared my mother and Brian, since I normally don't flip out like I did on Tuesday.

Brian's aunt, the nurse practitioner, talked me down off the ledge that night. She said the lower pelvic bone pain might be from cartilage separation, the three births, or referred nerve pain. She said I will probably need an MRI or something to figure out what's going on, but that I shouldn't worry that it's anything life-threatening. Then I cried and told her she's my favorite aunt ever. Oh, I'm kidding. I was too relieved to cry. But I did cry on the phone to Brian's dad, which was even more embarrassing.

To the commenter who said I scared her: 1) Sorry about that! and 2) According to my aunt, if you've had hip pain that's been the same for a long time, it's probably not caused by a scary disease.

To everyone who commented: Mmmmmwah. Seriously. Thanks for not just pointing and laughing at my little live-on-the-Internet meltdown. Thanks for making me laugh and letting me know you cared and understood.

Since talking about my musculoskeletal health seems to be my new hobby, shall I update you on my ankle now?

I had a bone scan on Monday. First they took me to a room decorated with yellow triangular "Radiactive!" stickers, which stood out nicely since everything else was white, to inject me with some "Radioactive!" dye. I felt it was my duty as a thinking patient to at least ask the tech, "Uh, is that stuff radioactive?" before he stuck the needle in my arm. He gave me a lengthy shpeel about how it's only a little radioactive. His Ukrainian accent made me dubious (too many movies I guess), but I just said, "Uh, ok."

They sent me home for three hours so my bones could absorb the nuclear tracer, then I returned so the tech could have me lie down on a skinny board and tape my sneakers together. Then he left. So I was lying there, wondering if he would ever come back and start the test, when I noticed the image on the tv beside me kind of looked like feet, more specifically, skeleton feet made of Christmas lights. And I was all, Hey, feet! Could those be... my feet?

After 10 minutes of this the tech ambled back in and had me lie on my side, and, sure enough, the feet on the screen were now on their side, too. Can't get much by me, I tell ya. In fact, I also noticed, on the tv image, a big white splotch right where my pain is, which, if you're into details, is on the inside of my left ankle.

So it came as no surprise to me that my scan came back abnormal. What did suprise me was that the scan just showed a problem, not what the problem is. I keep thinking with every test that I'll FINALLY know what's wrong, but alas, no one knows. I hurt it three fricken months ago and still no diagnosis. I now have a CT scan scheduled for Monday. What will it reveal? Cartilage damage? A fracture? More tests? Perhaps there's a surgery in my future, sometime in... July, at this pace. Who knows? Not me.

I'm just glad I'm not officially dying. I'm glad my hip x-ray came back normal and the orthopedic doctor said it's not a tumor in my ankle. After this week's scare, I have a renewed patience with my kids, love for my husband, enjoyment of life's mundane tasks. In short, I had a soul-jarring, priority-illuminating attitude adjustment. And in that sense, my Google-induced nervous breakdown was worth it. Although I will never, ever Google "bone pain" again in my lifetime. That much, I know.

Scared

I'm writing this tonight because I'm hoping you guys will say a prayer for me. I am really scared.

Today I went to the doctor for this pain I've been having. Frankly, I thought it was a hemmorhoid or something. Or a cyst. Not the kind of pain or problem I'd normally blog about.

It started hurting very slightly back in September, and over the last few weeks I realized it is getting much worse. Now it hurts almost constantly.

So I called the gynecologist and had it checked. She told me it's not a cyst or anything. It's the bone that hurts.

For the past few YEARS I've been having pain in my hip on the same side. I went to doctors, went to physical therapy, but never got an x-ray. Now I'm thinking that might have been really stupid. My hip pain never went away and has been bothering me too.

Of course I googled, and when you google hip and pelvic bone pain, horrific things come up. ONLY horrific things. I have never been more scared. Never ever. I can't eat. I keep crying. I had the x-ray tonight and then I went to Stop & Shop to get some apple juice and bread. I forgot the bread. I felt dizzy, nauseous. I keep seeing this whole thing unfold in a very bad way.

I'm hoping you guys will say a prayer for me. That it's not cancer. That's it's nothing too horrific. That it heals, whatever it is. That I can laugh at myself for being such a hypochondriac when this is all over.

Thank you. I'm going to drink beer now.