Sunday, January 26, 2014

The Day I Woke Up with a Cankle

And the horror of realizing it was attached to me

I'll be perfectly honest here: this post might be complete comprised of me bitching. At least half of it will be. There, now you've been warned, so read at your own risk.

Last week I was exercising, which doesn't happen as much as it should during the winter. I was doing squats, and my knee felt funny. I didn't think much of it, and in my mind the smart thing to do was stretch it out. Of course it continued feeling not fantastic, and the next day my calf was a little sore. I didn't think much of it since I haven't been exercising much. 

Well, this Tuesday evening my knee started to feel uncomfortable. On Wednesday, it was a bit swollen and more uncomfortable. Thursday, I woke up with a cankle. Like a big, nasty, uncomfortable, gross cankle. The entire lower half of my leg was swollen and I conceded that I probably needed to get it checked out. 
I called to schedule an appointment and they asked a couple of questions: if I was on birth control (yes) and if I'd done any traveling lately (no). Thankfully, they were able to squeeze me in that day. 

At first my doctor told me she'd thought I sprained my knee. This is what I was expecting so I just grumbled a little at the annoyance. She still didn't like what was going on though, and asked again if I'd gone anywhere far away over Christmas or something. Well when they asked about travel, I'd only thought of the last few days, so I think I was surprised and said "well yeah, Paris for New Years." 

Then it got crazy. I really trust my doctor and I think she's great. She doesn't catastrophize, but she also doesn't fuck around. I could tell that she was really concerned, so I became very concerned. She told me she thought I had a blood clot, probably in my calf. I didn't really get it at first...mostly because I'm not 90. Well once I understood I was pretty freaked out. I had to start blood thinners right there, was given a prescription for a support stocking (STOP LAUGHING!), and was scheduled to get a doppler (kind of like an ultrasound) done in the early afternoon. 
I was still freaked out (I think understandably), and kind of felt like my leg was this evil parasite that was trying to kill me. Like I kind of wished I could cut it off except, you know, I'd die. 
So I went to get the doppler done and the tech asked what was going on. I gave her the quick rundown, and she goes "you're a little young for a clot." GEE, THANKS. Somehow I'd missed that part! And, I obviously didn't come here on my doctor's orders. Because why would I do that? I get random hospital tests for fun in my spare time! 
Okay, so the doppler was actually really interesting. It showed the veins on the screen and she could also listen to it and show heat type sensors that showed where blood was flowing and which way it was flowing. And I really liked that she explained it and showed it all to me. But there was still a lot of human interpretation, and at the end she decided that she didn't see a clot; just a lot of fluid. She ended with "that's okay, you don't want to have a clot anyway." Well, yes, but now I don't know what fresh hell is going on in my leg. So, it's good and bad.

After my doctor talked to the tech, she wanted to talk to me (which she'd already told me would happen). She reiterated what the tech had said, but sounded very skeptical. She wanted me to go ahead with the blood thinners and support stocking (okay, it's not that bad, it really just looks like a thick thigh high), and that we'll decide when I go back to see her this week whether it's a clot or not.
So, needless to say, it was a lot of stress packed into a little bit of time, and it left me kind of worn out. My doctor said I probably could go to work on Friday, but I was concerned and wanted to stay home. Which means I've basically spent the last...three and a half days laying around. It's hard to do anything really...it'll get sore laying around, and it'll start to hurt standing up and doing stuff, and it starts to swell and throb sitting down. I keep trying to tell myself that it could be so much worse. It's very uncomfortable and makes me crabby.
The worst part is that I just don't have the patience for an injury. I hate laying around doing nothing. And, I know that they're only doing it because they love me, but I cannot stand my parents hovering and babying and asking every 5 minutes how my leg is. That's so bitchy, right? I'm annoyed that they're taking care of me! But it also made me kind of lonely; another reason for me to stay here I guess.

In other news, there's not much other news. Lindbergh is on his way over...I haven't seen him in about a week. Dylan's started texting me again. I'm not sure how I feel about that. He's a very nice guy, I just know nothing's going to happen with that. There are certain personality traits that I know don't mesh with mine. Foxx has been a mixture of supportive and slightly uncomfortable with this leg thing. Actually, my coworkers have been great...I'm looking forward to going back to work tomorrow.
For the near future, though, I'm going to try and keep the cankle at bay!

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