Well, sports fans, I saw the orthopod yesterday. For eight minutes.
(When I made the appointment
online two weeks ago, I noticed that his time was meted out in 10-minute slots.
So I checked when he arrived—three minutes late—and when my audience with him
ended—one minute late.)
As is typical for orthopedic
surgeons, he was not particularly interested in me; he got my name wrong,
glanced at the new X-rays, looked at the knee and prescribed a cortisone shot
and physical therapy. Which, for the moment, is okay with me.
I got the shots—preemptively in
both knees—and will make a PT appointment with whatever local practice isn’t booked
into September. I hope the latter will help with the IT band issue, but already
the cortisone is ameliorating the pain, so that’s something.
As orthopods go, he’s not the
worst I’ve experienced. But I have to say—I’d really have loved to have got
through life without meeting any of them. Still, I happen to know this guy does
good work, and he takes a conservative approach.
So, I guess it’s a case of
watch this space. At least I can get my daily step count back up.
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