I have done some thinking and I feel we absolutely need a retrospective of my past year. (The important stuff.)
A little self centred?
C’mon, I’m a medical hero and it doesn’t hurt to remind you of my bravery and my courage, in the face of those various, difficult physical ordeals!
The year started with a TTA (Tibial Tuberosity Advancement) surgery, for my torn ligament performed by Dr B, “The Hippie Surgeon”. (The Surgery)
He’s a big shot surgeon, he’s done this like a million times and told Veronica “No worries she’ll be fine”.
I’ve got news for you: Surgeries are not fun, and no, I’m not fine! Not only are you asleep but god knows what they’re doing poking around your leg.
Once you’re awake everything hurts. I was freezing and feeling very groggy.
The follow up is eight weeks of slow leash walks and rehab with Dr F. He’s an Ostheopath/Physiotherapist/Veterinarian. He’s great!
He’s the one that found my little lump and sent me to Dr C. (Dr L had abandoned me to spend a year studying in California.)
Turned out to be what they call Cancer, a “Soft Tissue Sarcoma”, that needed to be removed ASAP.
Surgery No. Two! (The Tumor)
At least there’re no special restrictions. A part from the dreadful cone and a very embarrassing shaved bum!
Soon I was back on track…
…even allowed to run a little, when…
…I tore my meniscus. Dr de W N (Dr B’s colleague) restored my wounded leg.
Surgery No. Three: (The Meniscus Ordeal). Familiar misery, waking up groggy, cone, no running, walks on leash…the works!
On the bright side, my own Dr L was finally back! After a year of training to become a specialist in in Orthopaedic rehabilitation.
I was going to be his Patient Zero and enter his new program. Wonderful! Now I’ll be fine!!
Nope! Six months after the first one, Dr L finds two more “Soft Tissue Sarcomas”.
Back on the operating table. Surgery No. Four: (The Return of the Tumor).
FOUR SURGERIES IN NINE MONTHS ON MY RIGHT BACK LEG!! I’m a Fricking medical hero! I should get a bravery medal.
A part from my medical ordeals there were, of course, other minor stuff going on.
Like my Birthday (The Homebound Birthday)
The Easter fun. (The Bunny Watch) .
Etc…etc… nothing compared with all my medical torments, so we should just end this story here, and remember what a Brave Boxer girl I am.
But…living with Veronica means that’s not going to happen!
She’s a big believer in rules and honesty, and feels a “Year in review” cannot be complete and fair without mentioning one, or two, or a few (unfortunate) incidents.
(She was probably some kind of judge in a previous life.)
Since my opinion counts for nothing and the supreme ruler of this house has the final word:
Here we go!
The bed incident. I was bored and these beds are just too fragile. Anyway Veronica got it repaired: much ado about nothing!
The paper recycling. Now here I’m actually doing Veronica a favour, you have to agree, she hates paperwork!
She was not supposed to see me borrowing that Xmas decoration. Next time I’ll be more careful.
Baby L’s books are all over the place, my intention was to tidy up.
Those coasters are stupid, and why did she buy these fragile tables in the first place!!??
Ok so this might have been a mistake…I got carried away and one thing led to another. These things happen, not worth a big drama.
Baby L can surely read the book anyway.
The “Power flames” are the coolest! Apparently they’re “not to play with” and only to “light the fires”…says who? Like there’s a rule!
Guess I was on a roll, and I moved on to the table set. I have no real recollection of how or why…anyway, I only played with the one (before, sadly, getting caught in the act).
FYI she has a whole stack of them, so what’s the big deal?!
Ok, enough with the whole confession business, you don’t need to know every little detail in my life!
Before you judge me, take a moment here and think. Look at the whole picture: Sweet Boxer girl, a few minor “mishaps” versus four surgeries in nine Months on the same leg.
I had such a horrible year, I felt sad, depressed, I just had to find ways to enlighten my inner soul for peace.
Do the math!
Anyway, what do I care! Santa brought me all these gifts. AND I should totally have a medal!
I’m a fricking medical Hero!