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Ze left leg, it will be longer
Mar. 26th, 2012 09:39 amWell, less short anyway. And no Procrustes methods or surgery will be needed, only an orthopedic insole.
It's a good thing, really, that I don't look up to doctors as Gods in White. Not that I doubted that the guy I went to about three weeks ago was basically right re. degenerative calcification, beginnings thereof, but I had my suspicions that it was actually more the difference in leg-length causing my lower back problems.
I discussed it with Elena (Tennis), and she found me a totally brilliant doctor, who isn't only an orthopaedist but also a physiotherapist. Of course it's mostly the leg, and so I'm going to this lab today where they make insoles to measure, and then there'll be a somewhat unpleasant period of adjusting to the thing, and then everything's going to be more or less all right. A bit of physiotherapy -- ouch! -- and regular massages, and I'll be able to play more tennis and run to my heart's content. Too late for the half-marathon, but that can't be helped.
In other, health-related news, Snezana the Divine Masseuse started reflexology last week, and while most painful spots weren't much of a surprise, the one indicating that there might be a thyroid problem was quite unexpected. Or not, considering that I've been wondering why I'm putting on weight (not much, but still) in spite of exercising like a mad exercising thing. A slight hypofunction might be the root of the problem, and so I'm going to do a blood test some time this week, in order to find out if that's really the case. Fortunately this isn't a serious problem; there are pills, and even though getting the dosage right can be a bit iffy in the beginning, I'm pretty confident.
What else?
I went to Vienna between March 15 and 19, and it was actually nice. Not only did I meet beloved!ex-boss, I also had lunch with my equally beloved ex-boss from Milan and his wife, whom I hadn't seen in ten years. Breakfast with brother, a whole wonderful morning with Klaus, long coffee with older nephew... Communication-wise it was a bit much, but really quite enjoyable.
It goes without saying that I also saw my mother -- that was the not-so-nice bit, because she's really quite poorly. And it isn't something that can be treated properly, because it's neuropathy. She'll be seeing a specialist tomorrow, who uses a special technique to neutralize the pain, basically by inserting small electrodes in the spinal cord. Since eliminating the symptoms is the best on can do anyway, that's certainly good enough; I hope that there aren't any reasons why he can't do the surgery.
Unfortunately it also goes without saying that my father has made a more or less splendid recovery and has resumed his life as if nothing had happened, which means that they still live in the same place -- too much space, too many stairs etc. According to my mother, he won't even discuss the possibility of moving. Maybe my brother can persuade him, but I sincerely doubt that.
And last but not least another bit of news: Elena, my tennis coach, is pregnant. I told her that, when she looks for a temporary replacement, it ought to be a man, because apparently my female tennis coaches all get pregnant. She's going to get married on June 17, and still not quite sure whether she's happy or frightened out of her wits. I told her that 1) the hormones are surely playing a part in those mixed feelings, and 2) she'd have to be a total idiot not to be a least a bit frightened at the prospect of having her life turned upside down by a child that isn't unwanted but certainly unplanned.
Before catching up on the f-list, I'll give you Cornelius, picture taken this morning. All that's missing is a can of beer and a cigar, don't you think?
It's a good thing, really, that I don't look up to doctors as Gods in White. Not that I doubted that the guy I went to about three weeks ago was basically right re. degenerative calcification, beginnings thereof, but I had my suspicions that it was actually more the difference in leg-length causing my lower back problems.
I discussed it with Elena (Tennis), and she found me a totally brilliant doctor, who isn't only an orthopaedist but also a physiotherapist. Of course it's mostly the leg, and so I'm going to this lab today where they make insoles to measure, and then there'll be a somewhat unpleasant period of adjusting to the thing, and then everything's going to be more or less all right. A bit of physiotherapy -- ouch! -- and regular massages, and I'll be able to play more tennis and run to my heart's content. Too late for the half-marathon, but that can't be helped.
In other, health-related news, Snezana the Divine Masseuse started reflexology last week, and while most painful spots weren't much of a surprise, the one indicating that there might be a thyroid problem was quite unexpected. Or not, considering that I've been wondering why I'm putting on weight (not much, but still) in spite of exercising like a mad exercising thing. A slight hypofunction might be the root of the problem, and so I'm going to do a blood test some time this week, in order to find out if that's really the case. Fortunately this isn't a serious problem; there are pills, and even though getting the dosage right can be a bit iffy in the beginning, I'm pretty confident.
What else?
I went to Vienna between March 15 and 19, and it was actually nice. Not only did I meet beloved!ex-boss, I also had lunch with my equally beloved ex-boss from Milan and his wife, whom I hadn't seen in ten years. Breakfast with brother, a whole wonderful morning with Klaus, long coffee with older nephew... Communication-wise it was a bit much, but really quite enjoyable.
It goes without saying that I also saw my mother -- that was the not-so-nice bit, because she's really quite poorly. And it isn't something that can be treated properly, because it's neuropathy. She'll be seeing a specialist tomorrow, who uses a special technique to neutralize the pain, basically by inserting small electrodes in the spinal cord. Since eliminating the symptoms is the best on can do anyway, that's certainly good enough; I hope that there aren't any reasons why he can't do the surgery.
Unfortunately it also goes without saying that my father has made a more or less splendid recovery and has resumed his life as if nothing had happened, which means that they still live in the same place -- too much space, too many stairs etc. According to my mother, he won't even discuss the possibility of moving. Maybe my brother can persuade him, but I sincerely doubt that.
And last but not least another bit of news: Elena, my tennis coach, is pregnant. I told her that, when she looks for a temporary replacement, it ought to be a man, because apparently my female tennis coaches all get pregnant. She's going to get married on June 17, and still not quite sure whether she's happy or frightened out of her wits. I told her that 1) the hormones are surely playing a part in those mixed feelings, and 2) she'd have to be a total idiot not to be a least a bit frightened at the prospect of having her life turned upside down by a child that isn't unwanted but certainly unplanned.
Before catching up on the f-list, I'll give you Cornelius, picture taken this morning. All that's missing is a can of beer and a cigar, don't you think?
