Three Darned Things

One darned thing after another.  For me one darned thing follows another follows another follows another until my life becomes a series of unplanned and unexpected events.  To quote another cliche: “Life is what happens while you are making other plans.”

First, pain in my left leg.  When I got up in the morning, pain shot up my leg making it torture to put my foot down.  I grabbed the desk for support as I hobbled into the bathroom.  By the time I took my shower, the leg felt better.  I drug the cane out of the corner of the closet and used it to ease the pressure on my left foot as I made my way into the kitchen to take my morning pills.  I left the cane beside the door as I walked out to go down for breakfast.  The pain was gone.

Arthritis?  Probably.  Still, I made an appointment with an orthopedist.  The doctor took x-rays.  “There is nothing wrong with your leg.  Your hips are good for a woman your age.  The nerves in your back send those pains down your leg.  Your back is worn out.”

Old age. Aches and pains happen to everyone who is lucky to live as long as I have.

Each day when the radio goes on (this morning it was playing Chopin), I sit up in bed and put my feet down into my slippers, knowing my legs will hurt, but the pain will go away if I just keep moving.

Blood pressure is another thing.  Until I went on dialysis, I always had good blood pressure: averaging 124 over 60.  Since the first of the year, it has skyrocketed to over 200.  A nurse urged me to go to the emergency room immediately as I was in imminent danger of a stroke.  (That warning was enough to give me a heart attack!)

I saw a cardiologist.  It is difficult to get an accurate blood pressure reading on me.  I can’t have a blood pressure cuff on either arm.  Not on my left, as that is the arm where blood is pumped out for dialysis.  Not on my right, swollen with lymphademia (have no idea how to spell that) due to breast cancer 22 years ago.  The blood pressure cuff on my leg causes readings that are always higher than they would be on my arm.  Still, 210 is too high. 

The doctor prescribed pills.  One, for which “side effects are extremely rare,” caused me to have symptoms of heart failure: rapid weight gain, extreme fatigue, and swollen ankles.  The doctor let me stop taking those pills.  I’m losing weight, my ankles are slim, and I feel better. 

On Sunday, as I was eating dinner, I looked down and saw my napkin streaked with blood.  A pimple on the end of my nose had burst. Blood dripped onto the tablecloth and even onto my lemon cake.  I held my nose for 30 minutes before it stopped. 

Yesterday morning it bled again.  Today I saw my dermatologist.  He did a biopsy on the end of my nose.  Now my big, ugly nose is tipped by a band-aid.  I said to Bill Pitts, I was going to tell everyone that he hit me.  This big, Teddy Bear of a man said, “That’s all right.  I need to keep up my reputation as a touch guy.” 

One darned thing after another.