Surprising New Info on My Jacked Up Arm -- I'm a Lesbian and I'm Proud of It!

That's a frame from the Epic Fail CT Scan I had. You remember...the one with the I.V. that was just going to be "a stick" and the dye that made me think I'd lost control of my bowels and had pooped on myself.

Yeah, that Epic Fail CT Scan.

I thought some of you might be interested enough to take a look at the image. I blew this image up so you could see the six screws and the broken plate. Pretty gnarly, right? If you look just below the arrow I've drawn, you can see where the plate is broken. Nice, huh?!

I also happened to notice that they have me listed as "F" for female. Who knew?! When I saw that I pulled down my pants to check.

It puzzled me because it appeared that all of my male parts were still there. Then, I remembered something that I'd read about when I was studying to be a doctor. I studied to be a doctor for about 25 minutes one day. I found out you had to take classes like calculus, chemistry, organic chemistry, biology, anatomy and other really hard classes so I gave that up and pursued other interests.

Anyway, I remembered that sometimes, when a person's leg or arm is cut off they will be convinced that it's still there. It will "hurt" and they are convinced that they still have whatever was cut off. They call that "phantom pain".

So, I must have "phantom male parts". I Googled that and came up with a LOT of interesting porn sites. I couldn't find anything scientific on it, though. Again, I'm a modern medical mystery! I may be the first person on the planet to have broken his arm and have changed sex at the same time. Chaz Bono went through all of that surgery and hormone therapy and all kinds of really painful stuff. All she/he really needed to do was break her/his arm!

I broke the news to The Spouse this morning. Here's how the conversation went:

Me: Honey, I need to tell you something.

TS: What is it? I'm in a hurry. The kids are going to be late for school.

Me: It's kinda delicate and I don't want you to be upset.

TS: Did you put something on the credit card?!

Me: No! Well, maybe some $5.99 porn for "research purposes" for my latest blog post.

TS: If there's a charge for porn on the credit card, you're going to wish you weren't born. Remember the flying monkeys? I'll bring in the clowns if you bought porn!

Me: Back up Godzilla! I'll get a refund. Sheesh! Besides, that's not what I wanted to tell you.

TS: What is it and don't waste my time with stupid stuff.

Me: Ummm....honey, I just found out that I'm a lesbian.

TS: What? You're wasting my time. What is wrong with you? Did you double up on your medication again?! Do I need to count your pills?

Me: NO! Look, see, it's right here on my CT Scan!

TS: Your CT scan results say you are a lesbian....you're such a moron.

Me: Look at the scan! Right there! It has me listed as "F" under "Sex". I know this is hard for you but I want you to know that I'm cool with it. I love you and I'm glad I'm a lesbian and not a regular girl. I don't want to like other guys. I like girls, and since I apparently changed sexes as a result of my fall, I'm proud to be a lesbian and I'm proud to be married to you.

TS: The person who entered your information miskeyed it. You are NOT a lesbian! I have to get the kids to school and go to work.

Me: Ummm...honey, these people are medical PROFESSIONALS! They don't really make mistakes very often, and, when they do, insurance companies pay out megabucks! Either way, we win! I want you to think about it today. We can talk more tonight. I think we need to come out to our families pretty quickly, though. I'm assuming you'll want to be a lesbian, too. I mean think about the advantages. Lots of people will invite us to their parties because we'll be the only lesbian couple they know. They'll want to show everyone that they are down with us! We'll be the most sought after couple in town! Free food and booze!

TS: I'm leaving. Kids say goodbye to your father. Don't get near him, though. He's having one of his episodes this morning.

Me: I love you! I hope you'll still love me. We'll talk more when you get home. Let it sink in for a bit.

I've gotta go prepare my "talk" for my kids. I need to let them know that they are now living in a same-sex household. The Boy Child will have to have the next phase of The Talk pretty soon. The Girl Child will be cool with whatever.

I'm Healed! It's a Miracle! Not Really, But I'll Take It!

Alrighty! I have some news on the jacked-up arm. Here's how it all went down:

Pawpaw (The Spouse's Father) came to get me this morning. We started out by eating at The Chick-Fil-A. I call it "The Chick-Fil-A" because that's the super cool way of saying it and because it's the GREATEST CHAIN RESTAURANT IN THE WORLD! Just saying...

I moved on to the radiology place. I walked in with my arm in a cast, ketchup and mayo on my shirt and a smile on my face. They took my information and I was soon escorted back to the luxury suite that houses the gigantic round scanner machine. Everyone was so nice. It helped that I knew the woman who came out to get me.

As I was sitting on the little table she began by asking me a bunch of questions. Here's a sample of the questions:

1. Do you have any allergies?
Me: Yes. I'm allergic to morphine and chocolate. It's a deadly combination.

2. Are you allergic to shell fish, eggs, strawberries, or polk salad?
Me: No, no, no, possibly.

3. Do you have any of the following conditions: high blood pressure, heart disease, diabetes, kidney issues, hang nails, toe jam, chronic halitosis?
Me: No, no, no, no, no, yes, possibly.

4. Are you now or have you ever been a member of The Democratic Party?
Me: No comment.

5. When was the last time you had something to eat?
Me: Hmmm...well the ketchup and mayo stain on my shirt are still sticky. I'd say about 30 minutes ago.
Her: You weren't supposed to eat for four hours before this.
Me: Nobody told me that and I ain't giving up this chicken sandwich. We're going to have to work around that little rule.
Her: She just looked at me like my wife does when I do something she considers "Stupid."
Me: Next question, please.

There were no more questions. Let this be a lesson to you all. Take your medical care into your own hands! I had a chicken sandwich, waffle fries and a large iced tea before that scan and I've yet to suffer any side-effects. There're too many rules in this world. I may have just eliminated one for the rest of you.

Once that was out of the way, she said, "Okay, I'm going to have to start an I.V. because the doctor wants some dye injected for a contrast."

Me: "Ummm...hold up. What's this about an I.V.? Dye? I'm not following you right now."

Her: Didn't they tell you they would want to do the dye? You can refuse if you want.

Me: NO ONE told me about an I.V. or dye! We need to think this through for a minute. I'm not sure what to do. Do I need an attorney or something?

Her: It's up to you. Do you want it or not? (She really wasn't mean. She was quite nice about it but that's pretty much what she said. I think, because she knows me, she consulted with my wife before I got there. She was NOT having my foolishness.)

Me: I guess we will go ahead with the dye.

Her: Okay, I'll start the I.V. You're going to feel a little stick. (If you can go to Hell for lying, I know someone whose name got written down in the book today! That sucker hurt!)

Then, this dude comes strolling out of Central Command and says he's going to be the one getting my images for me. He starts looking at my cast and arm and says, "I'm not sure how we're going to get all of you in there." I let that "...all of you..." part slide. This guy is, after all, the dude who's going to be controlling the amount of radiation pouring into my body.

After much discussion and mulling it over, I figured it out! I turned myself so that we could get the view he needed and said, "Turn this puppy on and let me ride!"

I'm pleased to report that "all of me" was able to fit in the tube.

After a bit of watching lights flash and hearing whirling sounds, the machine stopped and the woman came in and said they were getting the results and putting everything together for the first part of the scan.

She came back a bit later and said they were going to begin the scan with the dye. Here's what she told me:

1. I'm going to hook you up to the I.V. now.

2. I'm going to push this dye through and you may feel the following:
a. Warmth spreading through your body.
b. The need to urinate.
c. A metallic taste in your mouth.

3. Here we go. (Like I'm about to get on a ride at the carnival or something.)

So, I'm laying there. I start to feel the warmth going up and down my arm. I'm thinking Okay, this is alright. I kinda like this warm feeling. It's cold in here and this is kinda nice. HEY! What the ....?! I think I just lost control of my bowels! Did I just poop on myself? No, wait a minute. I don't smell anything. I think it's just the warmth of the dye has spread down there. It's kinda nice feeling now that I know I haven't pooped on myself. She said I might need to pee. I don't feel that at all. Maybe I should tell her about the "loss of bowels" feeling. They could write that up and put it in a book or something. That could totally be my claim to fame!

"Okay, we're all done. We'll be getting you out of the machine in a few minutes. Just lay there and keep resting."

Once I got up, I double-checked myself, found that I was, indeed, clean. Score one for me!

I got the little CD, grabbed Pawpaw from the waiting room, and headed to the Ortho Doctor.

We arrived a few minutes early. I brought a few baked goodies for the nurse and the doctor. They had both been so good to me. The nurse, especially, since she totally rocked out getting my scan appointment and doctor appointment just a few hours apart.

I was called after a short wait (bribery DOES work) and placed in a room. I gave them my little CD and started texting The Spouse, my mother, and random people who I think have blocked me. After a short wait, a male nurse type dude comes in and says he's going to remove the cast!

As he's finishing that, the doctor, his nurse and a physical therapist all walk in. (Sounds like the beginning of a nasty joke, doesn't it?) The doctor has this brown bag in his hand and hands it to me. I'm thinking Sweet Lord! He's brought me a prosthetic arm in a brown bag! I KNEW I should have chosen a better insurance company! He's going to cut my freaking arm off and give me this cheap prosthetic in a brown bag...

He says, "I thought you could use this." I open the bag carefully and glance down inside. I'm NOT going to scream if there's a some manequin arm in there! I see green. I see green glass. I see a green glass bottle of Tanqueray Rangpur!!!! This ain't no cheap liquor! Why is he giving me liquor? Is this the anesthesia? Good God! He's going to have me drink this while he "operates" on me! Damn that insurance company!

He then starts offering me suggestions on making lime ice cubes and tells me how the cheaper tonic water is as good as the expensive stuff. We both agree that Diet Tonic Water is one of the worst ideas ever. (I weigh 225lbs. Diet tonic water is NOT a weight loss solution I'm going to consider right now.) Finally, I asked him how he knew Gin and Tonics are my favorite drink and that Tanqueray is my favorite gin. (I swear I'm NOT an alcoholic. Yet.)

His nurse starts laughing and said, "We read your blog!"

I know my mouth hit the floor! I'm seldom at a loss for words, but I was completely and totally stumped and confused. It turns out that my Physical Therapist friend passed my blog along to the nurse and she shared it with the doctor. So, now, I love my doctor. In a Bro-to-Bro kinda way. He's my Bro. He's got my back and I've got his gin.

After much discussion, we decided that the CT scan was absolutely worthless. I endured all of that so I could write this. I'm especially glad I didn't lose bowel control just to find out that the scan was an epic fail because the metal in my arm caused too much something-or-other that made the scan not very good. (I'm getting really good at my medical terminology.)

We also decided that, yes, there is a broken plate in there and that the bone appears to have a break as well. HOWEVER, I'm not in pain and it might just heal up on its own if we keep it imobilized for a few weeks. If I wasn't so manly, I would have leapt up and kissed him! If I'd had three or more gin and tonics in me I would have done it anyway.

So, I have a new REMOVABLE splint! I can shower! I can rinse my arm off! I can be clean!

The Bible says to claim your miracles. Don't ask me where because I don't know. I'm not a Bible scholar. I just write this little blog and sell stuff for a living. I'm claiming mine and rebuking all that talk about possibly having surgery later!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to make lime icecubes and make myself a gin and tonic. I'll raise the first sip in a toast to my doctor and his staff.

Broken Arms Broken Dreams

It's been a week since I broke my arm and three days since I discovered it was broken. I thought I might fill you in on some missing information and let you know...the rest of the story.

This is not the first time this arm has been in a cast. In 1999, I had surgery on this arm that involved shortening my radius by 5mm and putting in a six inch long titanium plate. The surgery went well but the recovery was HELL!

I spent six months in a cast or splint, had occupational therapy three days per week and physical therapy 2 days per week. It seems that my bones are not fond of regrowing quickly. I had to wear a "bone growth stimulator" every night. I had an at-home ultra-sound thingy that I had to use and I developed adhesive capsulitis because my arm was immobilized for so long.

Adhesive capsulitis is basically when your ligaments and tendons begin to stick to each other and form a bond.

There was one way to get rid of it. Go to a physical therapist who lifts weights regularly and worships Satan daily. That Satanic individual lays you on a table and cranks your shoulder back over our head. The adhesions have to break apart.

Have you ever torn a ligament, tendon or muscle? The pain is excruciating. I believe I cussed and then passed out. I vaguely remember someone yelling, "He's passing out!" and then I remeber them sitting me up slowly and feeding me ice chips.

Ice chips! Really?! How about some Vicodin or Demerol?! Hello, is anyone listening?

I had the pleasure of having multiple sessions of this treatment. I wanted to put a hit on the PT, but The Spouse wouldn't let me.

I learned to do a lot left-handed. I could cut my food and use a fork and spoon proficiently. I learned to write left-handed and continued teaching through all of this. I could write notes on the board and I learned to type fairly fast with just my left hand. I also learned, very quickly, how to take care of personal hygiene issues left-handed. (Try it some time with the opposite of your dominate hand. There's a learning curve!)

After almost a year of therapy, I was released to live a "normal" life. I was able to do all the things I used to.

Now, I find myself facing a similar time. I'm not looking forward to the possibility of having surgery, a new plate and therapy. It seems that I've broken the titanium plate in my arm. I'm not sure how and I'm not sure why I'm not in pain. I'm grateful for that part. I'm smarter than I was then and the good doctor and I are going to have a LONG talk about all of this before I undergo the knife.

My current job involves a lot of travel. I can't travel with a broken/casted arm. It seems that Missouri has a funny law that designates that anyone in a cast is considered an impaired driver. My company takes a dim view of folks like me driving, too. I've worked it out with my boss that I'll just have to work via phone and email for a bit. She's been incredible about this incident and has offered to drive me to our sales conference in the next few weeks.

So, I would ask you to keep me in your thoughts and prayers for a while. I just need to make it through the surgery and NOT have the recovery complications.

Thanks for reading and I promise to post more funny and educational items in the near future!