So, I went to the orthopedist today for my eight-week checkup. The X-rays showed that there's still no visible callous on my broken bone. Which means there's been little to no healing.
The doctor told me to stay off of it for another four weeks, and even after that, there's only a 50% chance it'll heal. So, I may be looking at surgery at that point, and then a couple of months healing after that.
I'm trying very hard not to be depressed, but I'm really starting to get sick of this shit.
The good news is that I'm now in a giant black boot instead of a cast, so I can at least take a decent shower again.
Showing posts with label worrying. Show all posts
Showing posts with label worrying. Show all posts
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Worst-Case Scenario
I'm a worrier.
I worry about doing a good job for my customers. I worry about saving enough money for both a house and for retirement. I worry about my cat escaping from open windows, even though she hates the outdoors. I worry about my grandparents' health. I worry about my husband dying in a freak bicycling accident on his way home from work. And I worry about my broken foot.
As it turns out, worriers should not research their medical problems on the internet.
In about 10 minutes of googling, I managed to find dozens of horror stories about broken fifth metatarsals. Either the writers' bones never healed, or the bone took 6 months to heal, or they had to have painful surgery because the bone wouldn't come back together. I read stories about people who broke their foot years ago, but still suffer from crippling foot pain.
Basically, I managed to give myself a minor freakout, even though I've also heard lots of stories about people who broke their foot and recovered quickly and completely. Funny how easy it is to ignore those stories.
So, why do I spend so much time stressing out about something that's probably going to be no big deal? Here's my theory: Being the control freak that I am, worrying is my way to control situations that I can't do anything about. If I think about every possible worst case scenario, I can't possibly be taken by surprise, no matter how horrible the news is.
Unfortunately, this strategy also causes a whole lot of unnecessary stress and sleepless nights... there are very few times I can think of where the worst-case scenario actually happened. Am I the only neurotic person who does this?
It's a good thing that I'm going to the doctor on Thursday, which will be exactly eight weeks and three days since I first broke my foot. I'll get to see a fresh x-ray, and I'll get to talk with the orthopedist about how things are going. Hopefully, there will be progress, and some solid answers, so I can take a break from worrying for a while.
In the meantime, does anyone have a good broken-bone story to share?
I worry about doing a good job for my customers. I worry about saving enough money for both a house and for retirement. I worry about my cat escaping from open windows, even though she hates the outdoors. I worry about my grandparents' health. I worry about my husband dying in a freak bicycling accident on his way home from work. And I worry about my broken foot.
As it turns out, worriers should not research their medical problems on the internet.
In about 10 minutes of googling, I managed to find dozens of horror stories about broken fifth metatarsals. Either the writers' bones never healed, or the bone took 6 months to heal, or they had to have painful surgery because the bone wouldn't come back together. I read stories about people who broke their foot years ago, but still suffer from crippling foot pain.
Basically, I managed to give myself a minor freakout, even though I've also heard lots of stories about people who broke their foot and recovered quickly and completely. Funny how easy it is to ignore those stories.
So, why do I spend so much time stressing out about something that's probably going to be no big deal? Here's my theory: Being the control freak that I am, worrying is my way to control situations that I can't do anything about. If I think about every possible worst case scenario, I can't possibly be taken by surprise, no matter how horrible the news is.
Unfortunately, this strategy also causes a whole lot of unnecessary stress and sleepless nights... there are very few times I can think of where the worst-case scenario actually happened. Am I the only neurotic person who does this?
It's a good thing that I'm going to the doctor on Thursday, which will be exactly eight weeks and three days since I first broke my foot. I'll get to see a fresh x-ray, and I'll get to talk with the orthopedist about how things are going. Hopefully, there will be progress, and some solid answers, so I can take a break from worrying for a while.
In the meantime, does anyone have a good broken-bone story to share?
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