The Saga Continues...

Yesterday, I had an appointment with a specialist about my foot.

I went in to the appointment a little nervous about the possible outcomes, knowing full well from my orthopedist and others who have heard about my injury that surgery was a possibility.

I looked down at my still swollen, slightly misshapen right foot as I waited on the doctor to see me. When he came in, he was all smiles. He immediately grabbed my foot and started asking where my pain was coming from. Obviously, it's a very centralized pain and it is very tender to the touch. He was a bit taken aback by my flinching while he prodded various areas on my foot and excused himself to re-examine my week-old x-rays.

When he came back in, he looked concerned.

"The pain you're feeling is disproportionate to the injury," he said.

"I'm not following you," I said.

He went on to say the bone was still fractured but he wasn't sure why I was feeling pain. I gave him a quizzical look.

"If it's fractured, then wouldn't it be normal to still have pain?" I asked.

He started rapidly writing on my chart and told me he was referring me to a pain management doctor. He also gave me a prescription for a few different types of medicines, some of which would make me groggy, but I was instructed to take them three times a day.

I told him about an upcoming vacation to Disney and my fears at walking around all the parks with a still fractured foot. He didn't share my fears, but instead looked over to my boot and told me to wear it. The nurse who checked me out added to the saga by stating the new doctor I was referred to might even want to give me shots in my spine to help with the pain.

The ONLY time people are going to touch my spine is when an epidural is being administered and a baby is about to be born. Shots in my back for a foot fracture are nothing short of ridiculous.

I walked out of the doctor's office feeling defeated. He questioned whether or not the pain I have experienced day-in-and-day-out for 6 weeks was real. Because it's completely logical that a working mom of two desperately needs the attention and the setbacks of immobility, right?

I did what all women do when they feel pushed against a wall - I called my mom. Then my husband. Both offered the same advice - call the orthopedist and find a new solution.

The orthopedist asked me to come in as soon as possible so they could apply another cast and refer me to someone else. Obviously, the specialist behind door number one wasn't going to get the job done. Nurses, doctors and even the kind gentleman who put my cast on shared my feelings of frustration.

"It's a very complicated fracture, and not one to be taken lightly," one of them said.

So here I am, in my second cast in two weeks, with ANOTHER appointment to see ANOTHER specialist and at the end of the day, my foot is still broken. Let's hope this next guy can understand why a broken bone would cause pain.