One lonely December 2009 post

Post #601.

Been a while, eh? You still come around here? You still on the edge of your seat waiting for an update? Or have you given up? I wouldn't blame you. Why keep coming back when I don't update anything for over a month. This being said, the muse to type something relevant or witty or newsworthy on these very pages has seemingly disappeared. The urge and wanting to do so is gone. Those who follow my oh-so-interesting (sarcasm) adventures already do so on the interwebs via The Facebook or The Twitter. Here on The Blogger?....I just don't "feel it" at the moment.

So maybe in 2010, there will be an update on a brewday or a movie or something interesting I've done. But for the most part, the urge to share these types of things on this medium has subsided greatly. I guess I'll be around, just not so often. Try not to wait up.

So to recap December 2009 in one fell swoop:

The Fantastic Mr. Fox / Chargers game / Great Lakes beer school / Steelers game / Dave Matthews Band concert film in 3-D / nasty snowstorm that canceled my yearly A Christmas Carol theater excursion / wicked bronchitis.

Here's to an improved 2010. Finally, a vigorous and hearty FUCK YOU to 2009 and the events that threaten to ruin me as the entity you previously knew.

Mystery elbow

I usually do not delve too much into personal issues on this blog, especially medical ones.  But there's something that's been bothering me for 4 weeks now with no real resolution in sight.

One Friday 4 weeks ago, I woke up with a strange stiffness in my elbow.  "Must've slept on it funny."  As the day progressed at work, it really started to tighten up and grow progressively painful.  Friday after work, it was swollen and warm. Great.

The subsequent Saturday morning 4 weeks ago, it was worse.  And of course it's a weekend.  So, being in the line of work that I am, some Cephalexin 500mg four times a day was started until a doctor's visit Monday.  I'm generally not one to cry wolf or even GO to the doctor unless I really need to, so the admission 2 days ahead of time that I need to go is significant.

After a weekend of Cephalexin and no real headway in swelling, pain, or heat reduction, the doc changed me over to Ciprofloxacin 500mg twice a day for 10 days along with a dreadfully painful Rocephin 1gm shot in the arse.  Ouch.

10 days later, just a subtle change in swelling and heat.  The only portion that completely disappeared was the radiating redness and warmth down my arm.  So, it was a jaunt over for an x-ray and a follow-up with the orthopedic office that worked on my knee (the 2nd time).  X-rays negative for bone issues (outside of some degeneration) and just show soft tissue swelling (duh!).  Antibiotic round 2 of EES 400mg (erythromycin) four times a day for 10 days.

Finished a 2nd round of 10-day therapy and granted the heat and the swelling have allllmost subsided, the level of pain has not diminished in the least.  I have full range of motion, but if I bang it or touch it in just the right way....a jolt of burning pain.

Follow-up appointment today results in the scheduling of an MRI early next week.  Thoughts of surgical procedures and INPATIENT hospitalization antibiotic therapy are bandied about.  Shit.  Not happy, and just a little bit scared and concerned.  4 weeks of elbow pain with no traumatic event to tie it to?  WTF????

Updates to come...

Ouchie.

We had neglected to mention that our stoic patient is indeed home (surgery Monday, home Wednesday) and doing quite well. Weight-bearing is occurring and twice daily walks for physical therapy seem to be agreeable. A follow-up appointment is scheduled for this Tuesday, so hopefully those stitches will come out.

"Bionic Maxie" as the vet techs call her is doing just fine.

On athletes and ACL's

We have a purple martin birdhouse on a tall 30-foot telescoping pole in the backyard. We also have a variety of vermin who live in and around our backyard: i.e. bunnies underneath our shed and squirrels in our trees. Sam and Maxie so enjoy chasing these creatures in hopes of catching them for our dinner...to no avail. The rodents know juuuuust when they need to run away under our fence and not get caught.

One brazen squirrel has taken it upon him/her/itself to completely destroy our neighbor's patio furniture cushions. We've seen the thing scurry across our yard with a mouthful of foam and stuffing. But where did he/she/it go with it?

Sections of our purple martin house innards (room sections and walls) have been seen thrown about the backyard lately. Perplexing. It seems that the squirrel has taken it upon him/her/itself to move in to the purple martin house. Pretty bold to scurry up a metal pole 30 feet into the air to make one's new home.

So one Friday, Maxie and Sam tear off from the back door to net them some squirrel meat for our evening dinner. Kimberly calls them in, and Maxie is limping. No weight on her rear right leg. Crap. NOW what did she do? By Saturday morning, she continues to refuse to put any weight on her leg, so Kimberly took her to the vet. Guess what? Torn ACL.

You've got to be kidding us.

In 2004, she tore her left rear ACL during the athletic process of falling ass first off the ottoman and twisting funny. So at least in 2008 she tore her other one in the act of hunting lower mammals on the food chain.

Monday morning Chris drops Maxie off at the vet for her procedure. They call Kimberly during the day to keep us updated: anesthesia is fine; surgery went fine; she woke up just fine. Kimberly was able to visit with her tonight and Maxie is doing AOK, albeit a bit drowsy. She'll stay the night and (hopefully) come home Tuesday night.

Maxie bounces back quite well after all her procedures and surgeries, so her recovery will go just fine. In fact, in 2004 Maxie was our vet's first patient during a "new" ligament repair procedure that he just learned at a conference: no immobilization of the leg with a different type of surgery. She performed splendidly then, so this time we're expecting the same.

Sam on the other hand, is a basketcase without her and will be a whining white puffball all night long for us. For as much as they "fight" and argue as "brother and sister", when they are separated they are miserable without their respective partner in crime.

So to recap, in the first 2+ months of 2008, we've had Sam's expensive bladder surgery and now Maxie's expensive ACL surgery. Ahhhh...to own older dogs where "pet insurance" was not an available option when they were still puppies.

Treatise on subcutaneous fluid and jagged stones.

In the 13 1/2 years we have had Sam in our family, we have obviously grown to know his quirks and idiosyncracies by heart. So it was with an odd sense of concern that 2 weeks or so ago we made a vet appointment with the symptoms of excessive whininess and "he's just not right". Sam's a "talker", lacking in the quiet "Lhasa Zen Buddhism" department that his vet Dr. Doub teases him about. So when his talking had become markedly more pronounced, we were quite concerned.

A bit of urinalysis and x-ray revealed the presence of a cluster of bladder stones in the poor guy's innards. Time to prep for a cystotomy.

Monday, January 21st, Chris drops him off at the vet for a front right leg catheter insertion and a day of fluids. (Then it's the task of occupying both himself and Maxie to prevent them from going nuts without Sam in the house. Not easy.) We bring him home and the vet says in her report that he managed to pull it out, so they'll just give him another on surgery day Tuesday the 22nd.

Monday night back home, and the little man is all tuckered out on the chair-and-a-half from his day of excitement. Time to go o-u-t-s-i-d-e before bedtime, and he doesn't want to get up. What? Bypassing a trip to his outer domain to peruse his kingdom infested with lowly squirrels, birds, and bunnies? Not like him. So he finally jumps off the chair and lands awkwardly. He doesn't want to put any weight on his right leg. And damn if it doesn't "look" funny too. Crap. It looks broken or dislocated. He won't put any weight on it and he's whimpering. It's close to 11pm and surgery is in the morning. What to do?

We make a late-night trip to Carolina Veterinary Specialists, the emergency clinic vets who literally saved his life in February 2002 when he experienced his spinal cord infarct. His rear legs are already quite weak from the "stroke", so an injured front leg would only compound his ambulatory hiccups. It appears that a bolus of fluid had in fact seeped outside of the vein and underneath the skin, inflamming his knee and radiating upwards to his axillary region. Between the swelling and him pulling his leg inward it looked deformed. Poor guy. Luckily nothing was broken, so it's just pain meds and a night of rest.

...except that the homegoing hydromorphone they gave him really FREAKED him out and scared him. He did not like losing control over his psyche. Panting was a side effect, but little did we know that each and every pant would be accompanied by a high-pitched squeal and crying. It was like staying up with youir druggie friend who dropped the blue acid instead of the red acid. Made for a night of literally zero sleep. Well, I shouldn't say that. Between 3am and 6am Chris got a good 10 minutes dozing each hour. 8 hours at Walgreens was an over-caffeinated smorgasbord of stimulants to say the least. And to think, the doggie emergency room gave us a syringe of Buprenex to squirt under his tongue overnight for pain relief if needed. Yikes, not after his experience with the Dilaudid!

Tuesday morning comes and Sam is still weak and disoriented and cannot stand on his own. Shit. Another x-ray at the vet's pre-op shows the stones have migrated dangerously close to his urethtral parts, and dislodging them from there would NOT be fun for ANYBODY involved. Will we have to tank the surgery because of his leg?

By lunchtime, the vet reports that he's up to standing and on his leash is pulling the techs outside "towards the taxi stand" telling them it's time to go home. Not so fast little buddy. Surgery is on.

After work today, Chris and Kimberly made their way to the vet's to visit with the post-op patient. Sam was sitting up and groggy, but he was more alert than we were frankly expecting. We stayed and petted Sam for about a half-hour before leaving to let him rest. Maxie, freaking out in her own right because Sam hasn't been basically been around for the better part of two days, gave us the third degree when we arrived home.

The surgery went well. The removed stones were remarkably jagged and rough. A residual fetal tubule that once connected to the umblilicus was removed. His teeth were cleaned while he was under. He'll come home Wednesday afternoon with some antibiotics and just Tramadol for pain. No Dilaudid. No Buprenex. And most importantly, no painful stones jiggling around in his lower abdomen.

Wednesday and a full complement of Gordons under one roof cannot get here soon enough!

Never a dull moment in the House of Gordon.

View Chris from the inside!

So, in a bit of delayed news, on January 1st, Chris in his haste on the way to work takes an absolutely wicked spill out of the kitchen into the garage, banging his knee on the garage floor and his shin on the door sill. Ouchie. He then proceeds to experience swelling, discomfort, knee "swimminess" and whatnot after a week of standing 8-hours a day at Walgreens. All the while Dad Torda is in town, so we can't go to the doctor, right? Ah yes, Gordonian stubbornness at its best.

So,
Tuesday after Dad T. leaves, it's a trip to the primary doc.
Afterward it's a referral to get x-rays.
And finally on Thursday, a trip to the orthopedic doc who fixed this very knee back in 2003.

The blogworthy piece of all this is that now instead of lugging huge films in a huge manilla envelope to the doc, I am just given a CD to take over. Hmmm, let's see if it works at home also.

Way cool. Enjoy:

So, essentially and thankfully, after a good deal of tugging and prodding and twisting at the ortho, all is structurally sound. Just a boatload of swelling from two bumpies to the leg plus the fun of standing at work all the time. I'll take Prepatellar Bursitis for $100, Alex.

More ice!