My Left Foot

Everything was going well. My doctor had the order for my foot X-rays ready when I arrived at his office. There was no one in front of me at the X-ray station at the hospital next door. Yesterday was proceeding rather smoothly indeed.

Then I had to get the actual X-rays.

I did not know that my foot could get into the positions the technician put it into. Neither did the rest of me. As I sat up on the table and he twisted my left foot outward, a complete chain reaction was caused along my entire body. I had to turn myself against my left hip, stretch my leg out, and hold my torso up with my hands behind my back (otherwise he would not have gotten the right angle). It was as if I were playing solo Twister while gamma rays were being fired into my body. 

"Hold perfectly still," the technician told me sternly.

I laugh. Ha, ha! Surely you jest.

That's when I got the Mr. Spock raised eyebrow. The X-ray tech did not, in fact, jest.

Fortunately that was the worst of the five X-rays taken, although the other four had their own special levels of discomfort. I appreciated getting that first one out of the way though. 

The damn thing is that through all the twisting and turning and hold still-ing, my ankle didn't hurt at all. Not one bit. I could hardly walk on Thursday (which prompted my call to the doctor who ordered the X-rays). Foot pain has been an issue for me off and on for at least a year, foot and ankle pain so bad I could barely hobble around at times. But as it's becoming more on than off, it was high time to do something about it, right? Yet I had no pain at all while enduring the procedures. I walked out of the hospital just fine after hobbling in. 

Of course, when I stepped out of my new old van on returning home, I nearly went down in a heap. So it goes.

My doctor will have the X-rays Tuesday, so hopefully I'll have reasonably good news then. I fully expect the diagnosis to be COVID though.

Sorry. I couldn't resist that.