I must have slept through a couple months. It must be April first. It must be. That's the only explanation I have for the events of recent days.
Yesterday I got the diagnosis from the ortho doc. If you recall, Dr. Dudley Moore...I mean my useless internist...took two days to look over my x-rays and informed me, through his nurse, that I was old and that the pain in both my thumbs was just something I was going to have to live with.
No, it is NOT arthritis, and no it is NOT Carpel Tunnel. But be sure to take the anti inflammatory meds, you know the Naproxin prescribed even though naproxin makes you break out in a very itchy rash.
Go with God.
So yesterday the Ortho doc, a man so young I will call him Doogie Houser, spent about six minutes looking at my x-ray, another five minutes actually touching my hands and said, "Well, it's clear you have advanced arthritis and carpel tunnel symptoms.
Then, Dr. Doogie said, "It's strange to see such advanced arthritis in someone so young."
We then talked about treatment options. Surgery, of course, was the first suggestion. But surgery in someone so young (I think I've fallen in love with Dr. Doogie.) wasn't a great idea because no one was sure how long the effects of the surgery would last. "I don't like to operate on someone until they're far older." (If my hands didn't hurt so much, I would cradle Dr. Doogie's face in my hands and never stop kissing him.)
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