Life’s trekking trails are not always smooth and wide. I cannot pretend it isn’t a drawback – sooner or later my arthritic hip will be replaced by a “bionic” one. In the meantime, unfortunately, I am a gimp. Fortunately, I have patient, long-suffering friends who slow their pace to match mine and shorten outings to an hour or less. Once out there for 40 minutes or so, I beg, “Even slower now, please!” They must sometimes wonder if we’ll ever get back, but we always do. Doggie friends are just as accommodating, but I need a 14-year-old dog so we can keep up with each other!
“Are you on a list?” “Do you have a date?” Yes to the first question and Sort Of to the second. This path has been a rocky one.
Having been assigned a doctor, I phoned the office. “Don’t call a second time,” the machine insisted. “I’ll phone you in a week or so,” continued the professional sounding voice. That was the first week in January but it hasn’t happened yet. I maybe shot myself in the hip by phoning back about a week later to leave my cell phone number. By then the same voice on the machine was promising a call back in a couple of days. However, I did manage to scribble down another number where I could check my “status”.
After another week had gone by, I decided to try that route. A real person answered immediately. However, that was the end of the good news. “The doctor’s office will call you,” she said. “You must have a consultation first which won’t be until the end of March or early April.”
“That’s just for consultation?” I gulped.
“You must be assessed before you can be given a date for surgery,” she insisted, mentioning the doctor who had referred me, so I knew she was looking at my file on her computer.
“How long could that be?” I asked fearfully.
“Seven months. Everyone is in the same boat.”
“Oh no! I’m getting more and more out of shape.” She laughed when I said this. I did not.
Telling John all of this immediately, I realized I did not know when the seven months started – now or after the consultation. “It could be Christmas,” he said, disbelievingly.
I decided to phone back right away to get my facts straight. After only a couple of rings, a man answered. I almost asked him to see if he connect me to the gal I’d spoken to earlier, but some vestige of common sense restrained me. Magically, when I hung up after this call, I had a date for my consultation – it’s in mid-March. But the date for surgery is still unknown for it won’t be decided until after the assessment. It could still be Christmas…
What can one do after that? Well, the snow had been falling steadily for over 24 hours, my snowshoes were at hand, and a nine month old puppy was visiting. Oh no! My poles, now so necessary, were in the car, which was taking John to an appointment. Off we went anyway into the back lane where a kindly snowmobile had packed a route. After Jake planted a foot firmly on the back of one snowshoe sending me sprawling, we played: “You go first!” This, he thought, was great fun – and I liked staying upright for the rest of our loop. At least I am still mobile – sort of!
