Decrepit Retired Educator, here.
Well, I cannot honestly claim surprise, but I can definitely make a good faith claim on confusion.
Either on 16 or 23 February, I'll be having another surgery -- the fourth major operation since August 2008. This time, Dr. ShoulderMan will remove the cement spacer that's in now and either put another antibiotic-laced spacer in or -- if there is no sign of infection -- give me back a prosthesis!
I am going to grant myself a good inch of text space to pretend that I will get a metal prosthesis again. Yahoo! Hooray! Yet another Happy Dance!
Oh, who the hell am I kidding?
As his nurse said, when she came in to work on scheduling me, "Decrepit Retired Educator, I don't want you to get too hopeful because I don't think it is going to happen. This is *you*, after all..."
A salient point.
It's infected and he just wants me to have some measure of optimism, which I greatly appreciate. But the well-known pain and that unmistakable sensation of bone wanting to explode -- and toss in the fever, oh, and those elevated white counts and C-RPs -- and... well, let's just say that his nurse has *never* been wrong.
Dr. ShoulderMan's nurse really runs that office -- and works incredible hours. The last time I was there was on New Year's Eve and she was looking forward to an exciting night of paperwork. She does all the clinic scheduling and pre-op minutia, as well as assisting in surgeries, along with Bob, the PA. Bob rocks, too. It is a great group.
It's not their fault that we have to keep chasing this infection from bone to bone, joint to joint, while NOTHING grows in the lab cultures. He is keeping me going. He may well be keeping me alive -- but let's not be morose while the sun is shining. Which it is. It is a beautiful, windy, freezing day.
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