MRI Part II OR Just Take Me Behind the Barn and Shoot Me!

Last week, whilst on my exciting vacation, I went to visit my orthopedist. He would finally review the MRI's of my left knee taken about one month prior.

As I had previously mentioned some prior hip pain, he had a technician x-ray the ol' hipparoonies while he examined the MRI's of my knee. I always found it interesting that while having any kind of x-rays performed, the technician runs stealthily from the room into the safety of their lead lined bomb shelter, while your body soaks up all the radioactive nutrients. Hmmmmm.

While horizontal on the table I noticed that the camera, (for lack of the correct technical name) had been placed just above a very delicate and vulnerable part of my anatomy. Think South. I realize this was necessary as it was my hip area that required the x rays. It was the great concern of what was located between my hips that caused the slight mental fatigue and anxiety.

As far as I can recall, all the prior x rays I've ever had done included some form of flexible lead protective thingy to well, protect me. This time I got nothin'! Zilch, zip, nada. I must admit all kinds of thoughts were flowing through my twisted little mind. My immediate thought was a "glow stick". You know those plastic tubes that you snap, causing two chemicals (of unknown origin) to mix. The end result being a bright phosphorescent glow. Those things are pretty cool right? Probably not so much if it were happening to a very important part of me that means quite a lot!

Then again.......................................................that could actually be VERY cool! Just think of all the benefits. I could join the circus, or at least the sideshow. I could be a Jedi Master in the latest Star Wars production. The force would definitely be with me as I'd have my own personal built in light saber! There's always the small possibility that it could improve my sex life and/or dating situation...............................................nah!

Meanwhile, back in the waiting room, I was reading the latest issue of Martha Stewart's magazine, (great article on nude scrap booking by the way) when the doctor entered the room. He's a good guy. Young guy. Used to be a doctor for a pro basketball team. Don't ask which one. He looked me in the eyes and gave me the classic; "do you want the good news or the bad news first"?

I began to feel a build up of sweat on my forehead and upper lip. My eyes darted around the room, searching for an emergency exit, ready to bolt, but I took a deep breath and swallowed hard. I asked the doctor if I was a brave boy would I get a lolli or toy? He told me no. Followed by, put your diapers on, shut up and listen.

The good news was they found a cyst in my knee. THAT'S the GOOD news?! Oh joy! He went on to state that it appeared benign, but if it gets any larger they're going to have to amputate. Then came the bad news. After examining the x rays of my hips, it was clear to see arthritis was setting in. Greaaaaaat. Eventually, (he couldn't say when) I would probably have to get one or both hips replaced. WTF?! I'm only fo.....................years old for craps sake!

He said it was most likely genetic and there wasn't much I could do. What a great start to my tropical vacation! My old man had a hip replacement back in the day. I don't recall him dancin' with the stars, doing the cha-cha, or smoothly gliding through the room. In fact, you'd think with his bionic hip he'd be the six million dollar man. Not a chance. He was lucky to be the six dollar man, with tax.

Many years ago my family had an amazing German Shepherd named Max. I was pretty young at the time. I recall him suddenly walking strangely. Slower, and with a slight limp. I remember this being very upsetting to me. He eventually began to drag his leg. His paw became covered with cuts and abrasions and had to be bandaged to protect it from further injury. As his hip and leg worsened, apparently causing much pain and discomfort, a decision was made to put poor Max "to sleep". I was completely devastated.

He was one of the greatest dogs we ever had. It was either my mother or father who explained that it was quite common for Germain Shepherds to suffer in later years from hip problems. Thinking about this made sense. I am part German after all. I'll be suspicious if someone wants to take me on a trip to the veterinarians office. Someday I hope to see ol' Max again. We can have a nice long chat about our lousy hips over cigars and brandy.

Well this sucks! I guess I'm gonna have to start dating nurses or physical therapists. Don't get old kids. Appreciate your youth while ya still got it. Now will someone bring me a damn walker or wheel chair!

I've fallen and I can't get up!