Bum Thumb, Loose Screws, and GERD

Okay, so discussing one’s own medical maladies is admittedly a dangerous topic. Do you, like me, practice your ho-hum eye roll whenever someone says, “Let me tell you about my operation”? But wait! This blog piece will rivet you to your computer screen; it will bring smiles and chuckles. Uh-oh. I just typed the second most dangerous way to begin a blog post – self-announcing how entertaining the topic will be. Well, you be the jury. I have thick skin (and a bum thumb and GERD).

This story begins when my middle daughter was hospitalized week before last, for what turned out to be her gallbladder. From Wednesday morning until Friday afternoon I undertook a text frenzy from her bedside, keeping “family group” updated on her condition and treatment, as well as answering multiple individual texted responses. It wasn’t until the weekend that I paid attention to the fact that my formerly enlarged and ouch-y left carpal-metacarpal thumb joint (nearest the wrist) was now constantly crying and complaining, with moments of lightning pain and numbness, accompanied by increased swelling and redness. Something was wrong.

Dutiful patient that I am, I saw my family physician on Wednesday. She said probable tendonitis on top of already existing arthritis. Ice it three times a day, purchase and wear a left wrist splint for two weeks, and take Aleve for the inflammation. Oh, that’s right; you have GERD, so an anti-inflammatory will probably damage your stomach lining. Well, try acetaminophen, for the pain. And no more texting! (Yeah, like that’s going to happen…) Oh, yes, GERD is gastroesophageal reflux disease, also known as gastric reflux.

Fast forward to Thursday (oh, that would be the next day), when my left ankle started whining. Now granted, I have hardware in that joint, from when I fractured it about 15 years ago. Hardware – that’s what medical people call the metal that orthopedic surgeons install on a broken bone to stabilize it for healing. Sometimes they take it out later; sometimes they leave it there. (Mine’s still there.) Some people with hardware have increased pain during cold or rainy weather; some don’t (I don’t). So I’m wondering why my ankle is whimpering more than usual; it’s raining, but that’s never been a problem before. After getting home from Bible Basics at Vineyard, I inspect the ankle more carefully. I notice how it’s red, swollen, and tender to the touch. I wonder what’s going on.

Friday at work, I discuss my symptoms with the RNs at my company; they are case managers, pre-certification and utilization review nurses. They suggest varying causes for my symptoms, but all agree I should call my doctor. When she calls me back, she thinks I might have a loose screw. She orders an immediate X-ray, ice to the ankle, and Aleve even though I have GERD, with a follow-up appointment on Monday. When I report back to the nurses at work, one has the nerve to say, “Well, we could have told you that, without your doctor’s opinion!” The hardware, you see, is a metal plate attached by 7 or 8 screws. Perhaps the funniest part of this story concerns the order written by my MD and faxed to the X-ray facility. It said, “Left Ankle X-ray – Loose Screw.” I kid you not. You have to understand my doctor is A Real Person With a Wonderful Sense of Humor. I love her.

In the continuing sub-plot of the bum thumb, I found it necessary to actually purchase the splint. See previous paragraph where I mention the second appointment with Dr. T. She would not be happy about non-compliance. Besides, she is Always Right. I found a lovely thumb splint at Wal-Mart and obediently applied it on Saturday. Now, until you can’t use your left thumb, you cannot fully appreciate how many daily tasks require one. I clearly empathized this morning with my oldest daughter. First, you have to understand that when God was creating body parts for His children, He forgot a left hand for this beautiful, accomplished woman. (That would be ICD-9 Code 755.21 – congenital absence of forearm including hand.) So, my daughter, I’ve witnessed you deftly put on pantyhose (along with all the other daily routines you skillfully perform with only one hand), but help me now: how do you fasten your bra?

Update: I just spoke with Daughter #1. She says, "No, Mommy. God doesn't forget anything. That's the way He made me." And, "I fasten it in front. You taught me to do it like that." Interesting, how much I have forgotten in life.

Well, we have yet to confirm for sure whether I have a loose screw or not. Opinions do not count. We’re looking for medical evidence, here. Screws in orthopedic hardware do work themselves loose. In my own defense, no test has been ordered on my brain.

We’ll find out about my ankle tomorrow morning.