Hell on wheels

I had my first venture into the land of orthopaedics today, but I venture to say that it won't be my last. The doctor I was referred after my misadventure last week saw me today, ordered a completely new set of radiographs, and then proceeded to show me where the fracture is. If I was a racehorse, we would call it a slab fracture and I'd be on my way to the glue factory but...

As it is, he told me that if I was eighteen and didn't have arthritis and a host of other medical issues he'd put a couple of pins in it and I'd be good to go. Instead, he's referring me for a CT scan and to another doctor that specializes in traumatic fractures. In other words, I've been dumped. He went to great lengths to point out that I'm not a good candidate for surgery, even though he mentioned knee replacement a few times.

Whether or not I have surgery, I'm stuck in a wheelchair for a minimum of three months before I can even think about bearing weight again. I can hardly wait to see what the next doctor has to say. In the meantime, I'm as mean as a snake and I've been referred to as Hell on Wheels.

Stay tuned...