Hooray for Henry Ford!

What a big day!  Ha, I can barely hold in my excitement as I start to type this post… there is so much that happened today, that I seem to want to type it all at once, however that simply won’t work.  Organized thoughts, one at a time.  Slowly.  And breathe.  Okay then, let’s begin.

I felt like I took it easy on the writing yesterday, as I did, which is okay I suppose, like I mentioned a few posts ago, I don’t want to just make up words.  Yet today is the opposite, there is much I want to share. Knowing I would write a take off post this morning, I had started to think about it last night and again this morning: what is holding me down in Jackson right now, then I thought what is holding me down anywhere right now?

The only answer there is my biggest chain, the 14″ bar in my abdomen. Waking up this morning, collecting myself and brewing a cup of black tea, I sat at my computer and fiddled with the controls looking at this and that, musing over how I might start my post when I received a phone call from Henry Ford, and not just ‘another’ phone call from Henry Ford:  A phone call from the Regional Director of Orthopedics for Henry Ford.

Whether by the work of my primary doctor or perhaps my own writing and the thoughts and prayers of my readers, my case has risen to the attention of those at Henry Ford that have the power to make things happen. The tone and happenstance of the call could not have been better.  Begun with at quick apology that the surgery I had requested (nay, demanded at the cost of me slamming the door on the way out,) could not be preformed tomorrow the 13th.

The surgeon I had requested – the best pelvic surgeon in the State – was simply not going to be in the operating room at Henry Ford that day. Having heard stories before along these lines, my patience began to wear however I persisted and continued to listen. Next it was explained that she was aware of my timeline to leave the State, and if I was willing to extend that timeline the surgery could be performed at Henry Ford on Wednesday December 21st.

Ecstatic, I agreed and began to take note of the details of the calls to come, just two more. One from nurses and one from the anesthesiologist.  All with instructions of which prescriptions to stop taking when and when to stop eating and drinking the night before.  As for the time of the surgery I won’t know until the day before when to show up.  Nine days to go and I won’t have a chain holding me to any hospital anymore.

Next in the day was a well planned email to hopefully retain, a necessary chain.  I had planned, well by lack of planning, on relinquishing my telephone number over the last decade, when I turned in my County issued telephone.  However, over the last week or two as I’ve moved all my accounts and accesses to my new laptop, I’ve realized how many accounts need my phone number to verify who I am.

I had thought I could get them all moved over in time to go, rather I’ve seen that from how much I’ve missed so far, I would never even realize what accounts I could lose forever if I lost access to that number.  So reevaluating, I sent in an email for County tech to hopefully begin the process of separating that number from my phone before I turn it in.

Then a bunch of errands.  Bunch of fun huh?  Actually, it was.  Over to American One first, who now positions greeting desks by both doors into their beautifully redone main branch on East Michigan.  A short wait in line (which I am not minding nearly as much now that I can stand fully straight up and bend back my left leg,) and I was waved forward by the teller. Closing and cashing out some accounts was on my list to get done and another errand off the list.

Over to my previous chiropractor, another story not yet told, to return the tumble board he had lent me this year to straighten my ankle.  Lunch at one of my new favorite spots this summer, Pot Belly’s, for a large wreck and a vitamin water. Followed with a thirty minute massage at the Plaza (for any Jackson reader born after two thousand, I am referring to the Jackson Crossing.)

That acupressure message place has been a blessing over and over during my recovery: they have not been afraid to touch the spots that hurt.  And put their elbows in the spots that hurt. That might sound odd yet that is the secret, over and over, I had to keep stretching and pushing the places that hurt, I digress. Rather than a massage on my legs though, as has been my norm over the year, I opted for the back massage instead.

I may go back for my legs tomorrow when the younger of the two is available. The older woman is wonderful too, but those elbows are pointy and was not for my mood tonight. That’s been about it for the night, back to the house to continue sorting stuff and to keep working to finish up the digipeaters and mobile hotspot: going on a road trip and I need to stay connected. Tomorrow a final doctor appointment for my ankle then a trip to Lansing!

Time to rest.



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