Not much to this. Back in June, I think it was, might have been late May. My wife asked me to go walking with her. I grumbled "sure" cause I need to do that sorta thing. She has a route that covers a mile, up and down our hills. Part of it can be tough on an old guy who is out of shape. So, I walked up our driveway to the road and took maybe 3 or 4 steps.
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All of a sudden there was a pain in my left foot. I can't remember if I have told this story or not. So, I walked the mile in minor pain. Later I figured out it was under my left ankle. After 2 weeks, I went to my primary care doc (we use to just call them doctors). He essentially thought it would get well soon. 3 weeks later I went to my foot doctor. He felt around, having me move my foot in all directions.
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I really don't like people messing with my feet. He gave me this brace to wear around the ankle. It was a problem with a tendon, not the Achilles, another one. I wore the brace for a month and went back. He told me to continue. I went for another month and called for an appointment.
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This time he wanted me to get a MRI. Aside thought. That should be an MRI. There is a place near his office. However, the nurse suggested that I drive 20 miles to Ennis for the work to be done. She implied it was less of a hassle with book work. Okay. Fine. Sure.
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Went this morning. Checked in and paid my $14.19 co-pay. Hmmmmm The tall guy took me to a round lady in the back. She prepared the machine with a device to hold my foot. Stuck that rascal in their container and laid down. She turned the lights off in the room and moved my lower half into the round machine.
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I think I was on that table for an hour listening to hums and noise and seeing a bright red light in between noises. She had given me ear plugs to cut the noise. I crossed my arms on the chest and tried to sleep. I didn't get great sleep. I was so worried that I'd move my foot and have to start over. That would not be a joy.
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MRIs don't bother me. It is just something you do. My doc will get the results from another doc who will interpret. Then a decision will be made about our next step. Meanwhile, I continue to wear my ankle brace. What is that old line. Getting old is not for sissies.
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A "STONE" is a family word for a personal story or thought, not quite an essay or short story. We moved to central Texas to be near a daughter. We are down to only one wirehair dachshund - Sadie. (Goodbye in 2021 to Oscar the ball boy and Bruno the larger twin) & my wife -- penned by a retired Texas H.S. band director - just nonsense thoughts unrelated to each other or anything other than what's happening and comments.
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