I went to see the doctor this morning to discuss the MRI findings. Of course, I knew the findings because I took it upon myself to look up the results at work. It's my own medical record, so I can access it all I want.
At any rate, I have significant cartilage tears, and what the doctor calls "a funny looking ACL". I could go home and think about when I want surgery. I declined the thinking and asked for it to be scheduled immediately.
This living with pain and not being able to do anything fun is a bunch of bullshit. Let's get this fixed already!!
So, I am scheduled for knee surgery number five at the end of this month. It's only a scope, but I'm hinging my hopes on the simplest of procedures. I don't want that other surgery he was talking about.
On my way home, I called Indy to commiserate, and he didn't recognize me on the phone. Instead, calling me someone else's name, or rather, pet name. He blamed it on Ambien. I called bullshit on the lame Ambien excuse.
Me: Who's Princess??
Indy: It's not important.
I hung up on him after he told me I needed take a chill pill. A Monday, another scheduled knee surgery that is going to set me back three weeks, and a guy for who can't even come close to being honest with me because he's a chicken shit.
It's shaping up to be a stellar week. Thank God for pain meds.