I am deformed. The way I stand and walk indicates it, but the X-rays confirm it. I have a deformity of the tibia, at the ankle, rare to North Americans, but more common in Asians. (Mom, is there something you haven't told me?)
I do like India a lot. And I love Indian food. And I love Chinese food. And Thai food. Hey. Hey!?
So, my ankle doc (among the best in Chicago and that would be confirmed by the fact that I had an 11:20 appointment today and saw him for 2.5 minutes at about 2) says I'm deformed, and, on top of that, I have arthritis. To fix my deformity, he would need to lift up my ankles on the outsides with a piece of bone from my hip. He's done it a lot; it's called valgus distal tibial osteotomy, but all I can find on the Web about it is written in doctor speak. And that is not my language.
Anybody ever heard of it? Had it? Want to share about it?
Really, this only confirms that my body parts are nothing more than a warped jigsaw puzzle. (See the post about Mr. Potato Head.) Now if I were older, my treatment would be a snap. Fuse the ankles; walk like a Penguin. But heck, I walk like a Penguin now. Ask Bob. My adoring husband who frequently makes fun of my walk (OK, and I his, but what's his excuse?). Now he will need to find a politically correct name for duck-like walk.
Because it's official. I'm deformed. And you can't call anything by it's real name.
(And the good news: my CEA levels are still normal. Not so sure about my DNA, though.)
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)