Countdown!

Fiorella is having to lay off water, one of her favorite drinks, and indulge herself in milk, her other favorite drink.  There may even be a few milkshakes along the line.  And it's all medically prescribed--Fio had some shots in her neck that affect the swallowing mechanism and thus she needs to drink thicker liquids for a while. The procedure is to make sure her voice is in the best of shape for the National Romance Writers of America conference this summer.

More than two thousand women will be there, and Fio wants to be heard.

Medical Day

It happened today.  Fiorella's scorpion-stung toe turned red and swelled up like a baby sausage.  And it HURT.  But before she could get to a doctor, she had to drive over to the local emergency room to be with Son, who was having painful stomach spasms.  Four hours and loads of tests later, and they still didn't know what the problem was, but he was given a prescription for pain medication and told to make an appointment with a gastroenterologist because it might be his gall bladder.  

Fio then took off for her coumadin nurse, who graciously saw her early because Fio had made a toe appointment with her PCP on the south side of Austin for 3:45.

 It's now five and Fio is home at last.  Amen.

No Go

When there's nothing else on TV, Fiorella watches Mystery Diagnosis to familiarize herself with rare medical conditions, just in case she might someday turn up with one. A recurring pattern is that the patient is initially misdiagnosed, which Fio can identify with. So far she's been misdiagnosed with multiple sclerosis,diabetes (three times), arthritis, histoplasmosis, sleep apnea, and macular degeneration. She's also been suspected of cancer--ovarian, breast, thyroid, and kidney, none of which panned out.

Not to say that she doesn't have some other health problems, but, so far at least, not these.

Miracles

The medical shows about conjoined twins, parasitic twins, people with giant tumors or facial deformities, men whose skin resembles tree bark--Fio watches them all. It's the "before" and "after" aspects that fascinate her. They tell her there's still hope in the world--miracles even.

Last night she caught up on Julianna, "Born without a Face." It's Treacher-Collins to the extreme: one displaced eye, stubs for ears, no nose, and a gaping mouth where her lower face should have been.

Five years and twenty-nine surgeries later, Juliana's face has made a lot of progress: two eyes now, a nose, some work on her skull. Last night the surgeon tried a skin graft to give her a cheek, but it didn't work.

Juliana doesn't like the surgeries so her parents are thinking of calling it quits. The kindergarten kids accept her as she is, her mother reports. And obviously her family loves her.

But I vote for continuing the surgeries, doing everything possible to give Julianna a better face while she is still young enough to heal well. As she gets older, her peers will be less accepting of her appearance. And her family will not always be with her. Besides, eventually she'll want to be independent, to react to the world on her own terms.

Mom and Dad, let her put her best face forward.

Let the miracles happen.

Dr. Fio Informs You

Fio awoke with a bang--literally.

Yes, at 2:00 a.m. this morning, she heard a loud bang in her left ear. No one had shot her so the sound must have been generated from within. Genteel panic ensued--an eardrum bursting, her coronary artery clotting, macular degeneration setting in, her brain frying?

She carefully sat up, then went downstairs to google "big bang in ear" and discovered (great sigh of relief) she was not alone. Fio had experienced EHS: Exploding Head Syndrome, and apparently a lot of other people have too. It is harmless.

But somewhat dramatic.

Aching Dogs

It's a wonder Fiorella didn't give birth to three-horned monsters. After all, she spent half her childhood staring into the ghostly green hues of the x-ray machine in local shoe stores, checking out the fit of her Mary Janes.

So it's no wonder that her feet hurt like heck this morning. All those rays must have done things to her bones.

And for those of you who don't know what Fio is referring to, x-rays were chic in the first half of the 1900's--until the technicians' fingers began falling off.

Second Day

It's a fact; yes, it's true--
Fiorella has the flu.
Or maybe it is just a cold
Or allergy to irksome mold.
Whatever it is, she wants it gone,
So little microbe, toddle on.

Cold Awakening

Scratchy throat,
Stuffed up head--
I think that I'll
Go back to bed.

Pills

Fiorella hates taking pills. More accurately, she hates having to take them, being dependent on them. She would rather swing from vine to vine on her own--high, wide, and handsome,

On the other hand, swallowing little pink, orange, and white tablets is a minor price to pay for better health and relief of pain.

Uhm, while you're up, hon, get me another hydrocodone, will you?