Waiting Game

Hal Higdon's Novice 1 Marathon Training Schedule: Week 9, Day 4

Days to Chevron Houston Marathon: 66
Planned activity: 4 mile run

I saw my doctor and two medical students yesterday.   The visit brought back a lot of memories.  First in the room was a young woman who was very happy to hear I'm a PA.  Her demeanor switched from serious and tentative to bubbly and relaxed as soon as I told her I was using a PPI (proton pump inhibitor) to protect my stomach while taking mass quantities of Ibuprofen.  She asked me if I was medical.  I told her what I do for a living and she said, "Oh, great!  We can talk OUR language!"  We did and I felt like she got a lot more out of my assessment than she would have otherwise.  Thing is, that's probably not so great for the 97% (my guess) of other patients she'll see in her career.  I hope she learns to adapt earlier rather than later in her career.  They're not all going to understand what pronation, dorsiflexion, and prostiglandins are.  At least not at first conversation.

When my doc showed up - with another med student in tow - he frowned at me and didn't seem all that bubbly.  He put me through a few minor demonstrations of my athletic abilities.  I walked on my toes, walked on my heels.  He asked me to hop on one foot, then the other.  I was really hesitant to hop on my right foot.  I did it.  It didn't hurt too bad.  But it hurt.

He pressed on my heels.  He squeezed my heels.

He didn't say what I expected him to say.  He told me he wanted to get an MRI.  He talked about stress fracture and calcium supplement and Vitamin D and ultrasound treatment.

My inner PA talked back.

I don't have osteopenia.  I've had a DEXA scan.  I detest taking calcium and Vitamin D.  The side effects are not tolerable to me.  My diet is outstanding.  I make sure of it.  I'd get the MRI.  I want to keep running.  He listened.  So did the students.

Oh, I won't run if I have a stress fracture.  I'm a very smart PA.

I got the test.  It took half an hour.  I did it over lunch and for the last 15 minutes silent tears slid down my face.  I didn't move to wipe them off.  I needed them to clean the morning's anger/fear/worry out of my brain.

Just for torture, I checked the cancellation policy for the Houston Marathon.  It wasn't so bad.  If I have to pull out, I can get an entry into the 2014 race.  I'll only lose my 2013 entry fee and will have to pay for 2014.  Seems fair.  I didn't cry while I read it.

I have the disc of the MRI waiting to be read by my doc.  I'll take it to my appointment next Wednesday.  He'll either give me an injection in my heel OR he'll (in his words) "Shut this down."

shit.



 





©Michelle Scofield, Nov 8, 2012 All Rights Reserved