Knee updates

This morning I called my doctor again to see if he had any cancellations. I wanted someone to look at my leg. The receptionist said if I came in at 11.30, he'd try to squeeze me in.

The waiting room was full when I arrived. I filled out forms and waited. I read Time magazine and looked at James Natchwey's photographs. The special issue was on world health. Even as it told stories of world health heroes, the overall statistics were depressing. And then, too, I thought of the problem of health insurance in the States.

The doctor said that the problem was beyond him. He hazarded some guesses about the meniscus (a piece of cartilage betwen the bones of the leg), but said that I should see an orthopedic specialist. The receptionist gave me a list of names and I made an appointment for 12.30. It was 12. I took the elevator downstairs and jumped in a cab.

The orthopedic doctor took x-rays and then looked at my leg. He was surprised at the swelling. He said the x-rays looked fine, and then said he was going to drain the fluid. He brought out a turkey baster and a needle. He said it would hurt less the more relaxed I was. The needle pinched. The doctor told his receptionist to have another syringe ready in case he needed it. The liquid came out yellow. I asked if it was a good color. He said it was on the good side.

He prescribed an anti-inflammatory and told me to stay off the leg. He told me not to walk. He told me to come back Monday. They would run tests on the fluid and determine then whether to give me an MRI.

Earlier, I had asked him the provenance of his name. He told me to guess. He was certain that I wouldn't know. I guessed Hungarian. He looked thoughtful and said no. I was far; I should think south. He told me to think about it while I got my X-ray.

Back in my neighborhood, I bought a sandwich from a local cafe. As I waited, I listened in to a conversation next to me. A man was telling the owner he had to see his doctor about his knee. He had troubles with his meniscus. An old sports injury, he said. I picked up my sandwich and said goodbye. I limped into the street with meniscus in mind, wondering at the source of my swollen knee.
Posted by eku at November 10, 2005 3:03 PM