Systems a go, turn the ignition, engine on. Throttle into gear and away we go!
Foot surgery is a go; it finally (by finally I mean it took two weeks) got approved by federal L & I (unlike 10 months ago where it took nearly a year to get approved). This has been a very long process considering I got hurt over two years ago and I am just now scheduled for my second foot surgery.
I have two weeks exactly as of right now to get my shit together before I have a bunch of metal stuffed into my ankle and will be laid up for who knows how long. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t had foot surgery before, but this one is slightly different. Plus, there now will be all sorts of artificial junk holding my foot in place.
Not only that, I know exactly what to expect, which makes it almost worse than not knowing. I know the agonizing pain that is to come and the lack of narcotics your given isn’t nearly as helpful as I’d like it to be. I have grown a tolerance to them since this will be my 7th surgery in 11 years, the last one being almost exactly 10 months ago.
I was thrilled when I was on the phone with the lady. Her name is Susan. She knows my number by heart, which I find amusing. I called her on my break and she says, “Hi, Danielle. I was actually just logging in to your account…. no way! It’s approved!”
I start doing my happy dance because they sent me a letter in the mail last week saying it got denied and they would only reimburse me for surgery, even though it’s the shipyard’s fault I got hurt to begin with. They submitted it again with a correction in diagnostic codes and then she said I could be seen as soon as two weeks. Two days from now I have a pre-operative appointment to find out more and sign disclosures and then a COVID-19 test in a week and a half, which is normal operative protocol now a days.
Two weeks. What the hell can I get done in two weeks? Gotta notify work. Gotta make more doctor’s appointments before I get booted up. Gotta find a therapist. Make sure there is food in the house. Do a deep cleaning before I go under. Make sure my mom doesn’t have a major anxiety attack when she has to come over and take care of me. That’s the biggest kicker.
My mother was nearly in tears on the phone this afternoon about the hour drive to and from my house to take care of me and then what she would do while she was here. I told her I have Netflix and Hulu and books and things to cook and probably dishes to do. She doesn’t like the drive at all because she doesn’t have a cell phone and I told her she could spend a few nights here and that freaked her out, even though we live in a safe neighborhood. She was also concerned about contracting COVID from Diego since he has a summertime cold. I’m like mom. It’s not the virus. It’s just a little bug.
So that all will be a bit challenging to reassure her with. If I didn’t need the help so damn bad, I would say forget it. But I digress.
Everything else is hunky dory. That’s all I got for tonight, folks.