CHAPTER 211 IMPRESSIONS OF MY LIFE: AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A RECHERCHE POET. BACK WHER I STARTED -- BAD GAIT. 2016

 

CHAPTER 211 BACK WHERE I STARTED - BAD GAIT 2016

 

I had a total of four C. Diff attacks. Only the first two put we in the hospital The last two were not as bad. Maybe I was emptying out. At the last visit I had to the hospital, Christiana. They prescribed some pills at the hospital pharmacy. I felt may they kept things in check.

 

I had to make several visits to the Department of Infectious
Diseases until they were certain it was safe to let me back into society.  They warned me that having had C. Diff. I was prone to future relapse.  Oh joy!  But since then I have been free from that indignity. 

They gave me a prescription supposed to keep it away, like some sort of witches spell. I took this to my pharmacy.  When they notified me it was ready I went to pick it up. They handed me a vile of 21 pills.  The price was $500.

“What about my insurance?” I asked.

“That is with the insurance, “ she says.

“ I can’t afford this. I don’t want it.”

Are they kidding? $500 for less than a month’s supply. I’ll stick with  what I got at the hospital and hope.

Despite all I had been through it had done nothing to clear up the mystery of my sad gait. The Spring had ended and the August Summer was upon us. I seemed capable of hobbling around and so

made every effort to resume  my morning walks, I was doing the distance, but a lot slower than before. I was also mainly sticking to Rockwood, driving up to the Carriage House parking lot to avoid climbing any hills. The land was flatter up behind the mansion and  easier for me to maneuver.  

Lois visited the SPCA where Laurel worked and she adopted a can named Gizelle. We haven’t much history on  this cat, but when we got her she was very stand-offish and shy around people. She is less so now, but it took a while.

I, despite my weird legs, was still managing to do some yard work about our home. I had to be careful because of a tendency to fall over and  I was somewhat nervous about falling while using the hedge clippers. One day I did but fortunately suffer no damage from the blades.

I was still able to mow my grounds, but it was becoming more difficult and slow to do it.

But none of rhis brought me any closer to what was happening in my body. I Was anxious to speak to the neurologist, but I was going to have to wait until October. But I was do impatient I decided to take matters in my own hands. I made an appointment with a neurosurgeon. Seemed reasonably close. When I made the appointment I was told I would have to get another MRI, this time of my head. He sent me an order. I went to an imaging okay fir this,  I had one before, so how awful could it it. I did wear  underpants this time.

They paid little attention to my clothes.  I didn’t even have to change into a gown. What they did was lay me on the big body tray and snap a plastic thing over my head. I felt like the man in the iron mask.  Once so adorned, I was slid into the tube.

This was not like the other MRI I had. With that contraption about my noggin, I felt klike I was right up against the top of the you. I felt trapped ad I panicked. I pressed the panic button and said I want out. They did finally slide me out, but I was sweating. The technician wanted me to stay the distance and worried the pictures would be too blurred, But this take is what me went with.

In had an appointment at a neurosurgeon’s office new Delaware Park in a medical mall. I found it and went in to discover I was late. My appointment had been for  an earlier hour, but the doctor agreed to see me anyway. He had the MRI film and it was readable. There were no clots to could he see anything that would effect my walk. All he found was some  slight stenosis  of my neck, apparently not unexpected in a man my age. I was dismissed and he was not concerned with my condition, but as I said, saw nothing that could have affected my gait. I was right back where I started.

Finally I got to see a neurologist.  He had offices in St.
Francis hospital in Wilmington.  Problem was he didn’t know what was going on either. He had me walk back and forth across his office, then asked me to place the heel of my one foot against the toes of the other and walk that way. I could not do it. I would take a step or two and fall over and he would have to grab me. I though,  I hop a cop doesn’t pull me over for a sobriety test. Toe to heel is what they do and I can’t do it.” 

He then wrote we orders for blood tests and after leaving the Doctor I went directly to LabCorp. There were several tests, but one did not have a diagnosis code.

“You’ll be charged without a code,” the technician said. 

‘How much?”

“It is over a hundred dollars.”

“I’ll skip that one,” I told him.

They took several tubes of my blood and then I left and waited on the Doctor. These tests had included deficiency of Vitamin B as well s a test for LymDisease. Now I did a lot of hiking in woods, but I only ever found one tick on me afterward. It was in a bad place. I had come home one time, took a
shower and felt this bump. It was on my scrotum, right where the two testicles met. It was a tick. I  managed to get it off and put it down the toilet. Ever since then I would get an itch in that spot, but this went on for years. The test showed I had no lyme disease.

The neurologist shook his head. “I don’t know what you have,” he said. “At first I thought it might be Parkinsonism, but you don’t have any  telltale quiver.  I think we’ll have you can to take an EMG.” So a date was set for an EKG.  I had no idea what that was. Sometimes ignorance is bliss. If I had known I may not have went back.  EMG stood for Electromyography and Nerve Conductive Study.

It is sort of like getting an EKG, but instead go pasting electrodes all over you and hooking wires to them this is conducted by sticking needles  into you and I hate needles. The guy started at my feet and run needles up my leg to my shoulder then down my arm to my risk, back up and into my neck. This was done twice with two different type of pointy things, so this puncturing was down twice. It didn’t hurt as ,much as I feared, but I will be called back with the results another day

They did call back the same week and asked me to come in. The Neurologist met with me in his office.

“We have the results of the test.” He said, “but we can’t give
you a  diagnosis, except there is something wrong with your nerves.I wanted you to go see this specialist, but she is on hiatuses. She is on a Cruise and can’t be reached.”

“Oh, I said.”

“Therefore,” he went on, “We are sending you to Thomas Jefferson Hosptals neurology department in Philadelphia. Your appointment there  will be on December 1. So, Have a happy Thanksgiving.”

Thus I was sent upon my way.  It was still 2016.