Mum had what is most likely the last Unna boot she'll need for Cellulitis '06 put on today. Her leg is, technically, healed. Luckily, we found out the hospital does so take her Aetna card, it was only the blood pressure clinic which didn't (I don't know, don't ask me, sounds rather suspect), so I did not have to turn to eBay for the last few bandages. Not that I would have minded, because I told Mum last year she needed one of those Unna boots when she only had two tiny things on her leg and no odd colors were involved, and that would have brought the total price of fixing her leg to maybe $25, rather than the house-threatening amount the hospital is taking their time figuring out now.
Reading this back, I'm coming off bitter, almost as if I feel no one listens to me. This is not because I have no voice, no, it's because sometime last month Mum asked the nurse wrapping her leg if she was going to need compression socks like the ones I made her get that closed the first two leg ulcers. "No," each wrapper every week since declared, "You won't need those. What did you ever wear those for? Silly!"
Today the medical person of the week told Mum they'd ordered her compression socks that she'll need to wear after the Unna boot comes off. Because it will take two weeks for them to get the socks, they slapped on another bandage and told her to leave it on until the socks arrive.
I will of course let you all know if they're the exact things we could have ordered fresh from the Footsmart catalog a month ago. Because I have the feeling they will be.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Doctors Do Not Appreciate Smart-Ass Commoners
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