Today I received my walking papers from Dr. R, my surgeon. We’ve been together seven weeks and one day, which isn’t long for most relationships. In this case, it was long enough. I still have work to do to regain complete mobility of my right arm, and much of the area around the incision (BIG incision) is still numb. But from a surgical point of view, I’m on the road to recovery. We shook hands before he left the examining room, but there was no lengthy farewell.
However . . . I started coming down with a respiratory infection yesterday. I’ve had enough of them to recognize the symptoms, and I asked Dr. R. for a prescription. He demurred, saying I should contact my primary care physician. That’s reasonable, except that we have 15 inches of snow, and Dr. T. is a long way away to go for another doctor’s visit. It’s nothing I want to try in this weather.
I’m thinking maybe my body is so relieved to be discharged that it is releasing all the pent tension about this process. Or maybe this is my annual bout with infections, as I was laid low this time last winter for six weeks. Or could I have caught something from someone else?
I don’t know, but I’m not venturing out tonight. I called Dr. T’s office and left a message hoping he would prescribe something now with my promise of visiting him next week. We’ll see what tomorrow brings. In the meantime, Dr. Brandt is on the job, and Dr. R has left the building.
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