Usually, when a troll says, "You come to party," you go to the party. I mean, it's a troll. Do you want to get eaten? Of course not. But when Zeb suggested in the comments of the last post that Becky and I MUST go to the GitP meet-up...Well, the odds of that happening are slim, as much as I would like to comply and not be eaten.
We had a little incident last week that I failed to mention. After our visit to the mall, and teasing one another about getting engaged, we returned to the motel, where I was experiencing discomfort in my right knee. Does anyone remember my right knee? It's the one with the torn meniscus. Once I was in a pair of shorts, it was obvious to untrained eyes that the knee was swollen. Abnormally so. I was kind of hoping that a little light exercise, combined with enough rest, would help it to heal. But, no...That would be too simple. This knee needs to be fixed.
Including my hopes, the plan for surgery was "elbow, elbow, knee." Not it looks like it'll be "elbow, knee, elbow." Due to the degree of urgency involved, I'm pretty sure I'll still be recovering when the time comes for the GitP meet-up.
But wait! There's more!
Becky left this morning. There were plenty of tears to go around, as we each tried to think of one reason or another as to why she should stay or I should go with her. Later in the day, it was why she should come back. "You forgot to take your leftover Chinese food! You have to come back and get it." Or my personal favorite, "You used one side of a Q-tip, but not the other. I'd hate to see it go to waste, so come back and use the other side." (Okay, I was grasping at straws by then.) By the time Becky had reached a motel for the night to sleep during the 18-hour drive home, I was holding up a few chewable Pink-Bismuth and asking, "Weren't you supposed to take these with you? Get back here and put them in your purse!"
But the heartache of her leaving was being overshadowed by pain in my left foot. It's near to where the two ulcers were. And so mu "logical illogical" fear has kicked it. I'm telling you, folks...It takes one, and ONLY ONE case of osteomyelitis to learn to fear it. A bone disintegrating and snapping because it's mass is almost gone isn't much fun. It hurts to this day, despite being healed. And now, if it's in the ankle...? G-d, there's a scary thought. Along with this "fond" memory is the medications, Vancomycin. There's nothing quite like an IV antibiotic that burns going in, and can irritate veins to the point of requiring a new IV line anywhere between doses one and six. (It's why I eventually shaved my arms, as taking an IV out of hairy arms tends to hurt more than putting one in.)
Tonight...? Well, I'm tired. Emotionally stressful days do that to me. Reality is too upsetting, so I retreat into the wonderful world of dreams. (Not always that wonderful.) So I'm tired, but can't sleep. What's more, I feel feverish, but have no fever. (I checked.) I have nothing to really say at an ER, other than, "My foot hurts." That's fairly common for someone with Charcot's foot. So the only thing I can do is wait until Wednesday, when I will followup on my wound care. On the off chance they won't handle it, since it's not an obvious wound, I'll have to wait until Thursday, when I go for my pre-surgical doctor's appointment. And I'll only be making a complaint at either if it still hurts, which I hope it won't...but fear it will.
Alternatively, this could all be a result of Becky heading home. Stress is making my brain malfunction, making me feel ill, when all that's wrong is that my "future fiance" has left. Nothing a little Xanax can't fix, right?
It doesn't help that Cdy decided to play devil's advocate tonight. He knows Becky works with people that are wheelchair bound. He suggested that my being chronically ill was the main reason she fell so in love with me. "If that's the case, there's still plenty of time for the charm of me being sick to wear off," I replied. What both of us said is entirely possible.
HOWEVER, I don't think Becky fell for me because I'm probably going to need some kind of aid for the rest of my life. From what I saw over the last 10 days, Becky fell in love with me because I make her laugh, respect her, interact with her, and shed tender, romantic tears. (Those would be the tears you experience when you see you love interest, hug them tight, and whisper that you love them tremendously.) We can talk for hours, or sit in comfortable silence as we do separate things. I didn't see Becky enjoying any of the time when I wasn't feeling well.
My lady-love will be home tomorrow evening. I've been praying she gets there safely, as well as make some humorous threats. ("If you die in an accident, I'll kill you!") And once she's home, we will start focusing on our next meeting, which has been moved to late September. I would explain why, but meds are kicking in. It's after midnight, and I need rest.
Be well, all.
Oh, Zeb...? Maybe next year. I should be officially engaged by then. =)