Today was visit #2 to doctor #3. We went over the results (rather, lack thereof) of the NSAIDs I was taking for my wrist.

Before discussing the nitty gritty of surgery, the doctor asked me if any of my prior doctors had sent me for a CAT scan. I said no, and he said that he wanted to send me for one before determining what kind of surgery he’d recommend. According to him, the pathology can present one thing, but what is actually wrong can be quite different, so it’s best to do every possible pre-test and pre-diagnostic and examination before slicing anyone open.

I strongly agree with this mode of thinking.

So… he wrote me a “prescription” for a thin-slice CAT scan (+ 3D of my left wrist - I’ll be asking for those films!), and called the insurance company to get the pre-certification/authorization. Tomorrow morning, I am calling one of the two radiology/imaging centers in the area and seeing who can get me in for the CAT scan sooner. One of them is on my way to work and starts scheduling people at 7 am. The other has Saturday hours. Hopefully, they can get me in way early on Thursday or Friday at the one place, or fit me in on Saturday at the other. I’ll find out in the morning.

Since my method of dealing with something strange/new/unfamiliar/potentially scary is to research the F**K out of it, I’ve done a lot of reading in the past 30 minutes on thin slice CAT scans and computed tomography in general. I shan’t bore you with details, but here’s a rather informative site for the layperson.

Once I get the CAT scan results, I already have an appointment to see the orthopedist next Thursday to review the results and discuss our next steps. It’s good to have these discussions; they keep me from feeling totally frightened since he tells me exactly what is going on, why he is sending me for tests or what-have-you, and uses the actual medical terminology unless I look confused or otherwise indicate that I have no idea what he’s talking about. Even though I hadn’t heard the term “avascular necrosis of the lunate” until a few months ago, I was able to figure it out… though I still regret not having been able to take Latin in high school. But I manage.

“Avascular”: prefix “a-” denotes absence of, as in “amoral” = lacking morals. “Vascular” = having to do with the veins and circulatory system, as in “cardiovascular” (heart and circulatory) as opposed to “cardiopulmonary” (heart and lungs). Thus, “absence of circulation/blood/vascularization.”

“Necrosis”: prefix “necr-” implies “having to do with death”, as in “necrophilia” (love of the dead) or “necromancy” (summoning of the dead). So necrosis = death.

“Lunate”: well, this one wouldn’t have been clear without knowledge of my wrist’s anatomy, but it makes sense in general. The lunate bone is supposed to be shaped like a crescent moon when viewed from the side - “luna” = moon. Done.

All told, death of the moon-bone due to lack of blood. Yay, roots! Yay, language!

Ok. It’s now 10:30 and I excused myself from watching “Spiderman” with my mom and my cousin since I want to get to bed at a decent hour and get up early to go to the bank (in addition to shaving my legs and the other morningtime fun I have planned.) Last night, I finished off a really good read - and an entirely OK memoir - called “The Glass Castle” by Jeannette Walls. It’s not going to win a Nobel Prize for Literature, but if you want a book to make you think, “Hey, my childhood was pretty OK, though not nearly as memoir-worthy”, this is a good fit. Unlike some of the memoirs I’ve read (”The Liars Club” by Mary Karr comes to mind) this one doesn’t play (as heavily, anyway) upon the manipulation of the reader’s emotions in trying to elicit a response. Instead of belaboring the, “Oh, wasn’t it tough!” point or “…and I didn’t realize until I was an adult that [insert odd childhood detail] wasn’t normal…”, this particular memoir just told the story - and you don’t feel sorry for anyone, really. You identify with the author’s sense of shame, and her desire to make things better… but you don’t ever feel your eyes welling up with tears or find yourself wanting to donate money to a charity.

Then again, someone might read it and think it’s the saddest thing they’ve ever read since, admittedly, it’s not easy to make me cry, especially through contrived methods like movies, fiction, etc. I’m quite skeptical on that front, but not entirely cold and without feeling. I just recognize when bullshit is being thrown at me and when someone is trying to manipulate me through emotions instead of speaking to logic or morals or my innate sense of justice. THAT is more effective than the emotional nonsense.

I had a big spinach salad for dinner at an authentic New Jersey diner - where we took my cousin for the experience. I didn’t finish the salad because it was HUGE, so it’s my lunch tomorrow. My cousin had a Caesar chicken wrap and enjoyed it very much… so that was cool. My sister’s boyfriend drew us a storyboard/panels for a cartoon on the backside of his placemat and we all had to take turns writing dialogue for the characters he drew. I made the strange popcorn-looking fellow state that he was appalled at the beaver-looking critter’s sense of patriarchal dictatorship and proclaimed that he/she was a feminist vegetarian supporter of Jesus. My mother wrote in an apology on behalf of the beaver, and my sister wrote in the popcorn’s response, “You type of people make me want to put up my fists!” and then the popcorn was eaten by a shark that appeared from nowhere and I wrote in the dialogue for the beaver who was laughing at the shark-devoured popcorn. The beaver said, “You’re going DOWN, beyotch! Aw, yeah - JAWS STYLE. (Watch Shark Week on the Discovery Channel!)” And that was it.

And now it grows even later. It’s 10:56. I am going to get to bed and continue reading for a little while, but not until 2 in the morning like I did yesterday since I was so intent on finishing “The Glass Castle.” Silly me.