The bad news is my knee is dead. Not exactly: part of my femur was necrotic. But in early stages and caught by chance and holes have been drilled in the bone (it's called "microfractures", yummy) and it's maybe going to be ok.
The good news is all of that about catching it early. But I drive to school alone, thinking, and asking myself the what if they hadn't caught it? questions. Which suck.
The bad news is that I need a new primary care doctor and the new doctor I need to find somewhere in a haystack has to keep me on my thyroid medication and guess what, some doctors don't, and it causes me a great deal of anxiety thinking about getting this done somehow somewhere and lots of good doctors that are recommended to me aren't taking new patients.
The good news is a friend recommended one that is. I go next week to try.
The bad news is that I worried about my knee and kept looking at Niles and worrying about his ankle and started to get to a tipping point in that worry and jumping into panic.
The good news is that the same friend recommended a pediatric orthopedist and we went today and she listened to me and Niles and took x-rays and all is well! All is well!
The bad news is that I have yet again new cavities to be filled. Really? I'm 41. Come on.
The good news is I really like my new dentist.
The bad news, back to my knee, is that I'm now scheduled for a month of PT three days a week.
The good news is that it's just what I need and the rehab place is right by where I work.
The bad news is that I'm terribly anxious that it's not going to work. That my knee is really dead. And that no doctor will ever prescribe my thyroid medication again and my hair will fall out and I won't stay awake all day and I'll gain 30 pounds. That my teeth will fall out or rot away in my head.
That I won't be listened to.
That I won't be believed.
That I will be invisible.
But I'm going to keep trying. Because I have a lot to live for and a lot to get healthy for.