Or, why I am having a cockscomb derivative shot into my knee.
I have a bad knee. It may be the one thing wrong with me that something can be done about (grammar police go away). So I went to an orthopoedist. I had been told that I needed surgery for my knee, so the purpose of this visit was a second opinion. I went to the office, I had my knee x-rayed and the images were conveniently sent digitally to the monitor in the exam room. And there I sat expecting to be discussing surgical remedies for my knee that just won’t support me or work properly. In walks the doctor, the young doctor, and the exam begins. He talks to me and hears my history – open astonishment, quelle surprise – and he manipulates and prods my leg and knee in a variety of inconvenient ways. Then we talk.
I’ve injured that knee a couple of times over the years, and I have some arthritic changes (not helped by gout) and there are problems in there. But he says no surgery. I came to a place that is known for its surgical technique, I am waiting to talk about surgery – which I do not want but think I need – and here the doctor goes and says no surgery. He thinks I need injections. In my knee. Yeah, right. Some lubricant, he says, just a little WD40®.
In. My. Knee.
OK, what he said made sense. My kneecap was grinding away on bone. The probable scenario was that my already unstable knee just didn’t stand a chance once I got sick. Some of you may remember that I was using a cane already after my last gout attack. Two months of immobility plus considerable loss of muscle added up to a knee that just couldn’t recover. So the lack of muscle meant that my knee was unstable and the unstable knee meant that I couldn’t exercise the muscle. You see the dilemma there. The doctor also thought that, without muscle to support the knee, surgery would just make it worse and I stood no chance, no pun intended, of ever having a good knee after that. He also thought that the injections were the best treatment anyway.
Yeah. But a needle in my knee? Sure, it sounded logical. Everything he said made sense, but I don’t like jumping into these things and have I mentioned that I have a problem with medical procedures ever since my hospitalization? An important point here: the doctor asked me if I was as bad with this sort of thing before I got sick. I told him no, because I wasn’t. Very perceptive guy. I like that. Anyway, I agreed to it, freaked out some while waiting for him to get everything ready – even calling my wife on my cell while he was out of the room.
When he came back I was just all excited and eager to get on with things - in a pig’s eye. But I did it anyway. I asked about side effects, he said nope; no problems with blood pressure or any other drugs and it doesn’t get into your system much, right away at least (I mean it has to go somewhere since it wears out). It’s only a problem if you’re allergic to chicken – I am not. It was developed for race horses and is made from cockscombs; hence the title of this post. It is purified sodium hyaluronate, brand name Supartz®.
Voluntarily walking into a doctor’s office, shelling out a good chunk of my almost depleted resources, just so someone can stick a needle in my knee, is not something that I would have believed that I would do. But from the start it seemed to be helping, so I have gone back four times now (meaning five treatments) to have a needle stuck into my knee. And I have been looking forward to it. I suppose if the first shot hadn’t gone so well my attitude would have been different, but this is a treatment that is working. I liked going back. I may be crazy.
For anyone who may need this, it is not as bad as it sounds. They freeze the skin and you barely feel the needle. What I did feel was pressure from the injection, and last week he hit scar tissue which was very bad, but in general it is a very simple, very quick, very good procedure. I go home, ice my knee for a while and fall asleep. A day or two later I’m doing just fine. If you’re not as depleted as I am you’ll probably be good to go the next day. I think the fluid in the knee may cause a problem for anyone at least the rest of the day when you get the shot.
So here I am, with a bunch of lubricant shot into my knee. It feels a little stiff, but definitely more stable. Now I have to adjust to my new configuration. I’ve been walking crooked for so long that normal feels weird. Next up: physical therapy.
Now I am going to crash. For me, getting the shot pretty much takes it all out of me. Your mileage may vary.
ETA: I just thought I'd mention that it was one shot a week with today being the fifth and last shot. I realized that I wasn't clear about that.
And if my silly title wasn't clear, it's just my nonsense French take on coq au vin. Get it, rooster in knee instead of - oh, never mind.
2 comments:
Is this cockscomb the plant or the funny looking chicken thing? If its the plant why the allergy to chicken problem?
Definitely the chicken thing. I don't know how they figured it out, but that's where it comes from.
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