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A Room With a View

This was our view from the hotel room that we stayed at when we were at the Mayo Clinic last week.  Nice, no?  What we did not take into account was that no one would be frolicking on the beach because all of our waking hours were spent at the hospital where I became a human pin cushion.

And we also didn’t notice the mold & mildew in the hotel room, likely due to its advanced age.  That wasn’t apparent on the website.  And then we also didn’t think about the chiropractic bill for the therapy our daughters would need from sleeping on the fold out couch.  I don’t think it had been unfolded since 1972, and resembled a rack of torture more than a bed.  And I don’t even want to talk about the stains on the sheets.  I may never recover from that.

But imagine the excited squeals of glee when we saw the tray of goodies left on the counter of our room.  After snapping a picture of the prices for posterity, we whisked the tray to a place UP HIGH, out of the reach of the offspring.  And me.

If you look closely, The Reeses was $1.50

We’re heading back for more tests and an appointment with the rheumatologist at the Mayo this week.  RA has not been eliminated as a culprit for my predicament, so it’s something that my NEW AND IMPROVED orthopedic team want to have taken on or off the table as soon as possible.

Thankfully, Fiddledaddy had the insight to check out another hotel a little closer to the hospital, since we’ll be spending so much time there this month.  He found one that suits our needs perfectly.  In other words, no mildew, no unsightly mold, and we looked at a room and unfolded the couch to ensure that our children would not end up curled up around our heads should their sleeping arrangements be sub-par.

And get this, it has a giant whirlpool bathtub.

Here’s my conundrum.  Because I’m losing the use of my arms and right hand, I haven’t been able to take a bath in my beloved garden tub for a good 2 weeks.  And yes, Fiddledaddy installed a bar to give me something to hang on to, but I lack the strength to use it.  (Although it is a very handy place to dry my delicates…)  That along with my bum knee, and well, I’m certain that should I attempt a good soaking, I would be a shriveled prune before I got over my pride and called for help.  So I told Fiddledaddy that he needed to figure out a way for me to get in and out of the amazing whirlpool tub.  Something that doesn’t involve a crane.  Or a visit from the local fire department.

And as long as I’m sharing too much information, let me just tell you that Fiddledaddy had to take me shopping for a bra that closes in the front.  I’m no longer able to wrangle my sports bra, and in fact it became a straight jacket while I was getting dressed at the hotel last week.

After breaking out in a sweat, and suffering from claustrophobia, I finally got up the nerve to call for help from Fiddledaddy.  Only to learn that he and the children had left to go in search of ice.

Of course my mind immediately went to the dark place, and I envisioned myself losing my balance because of my bum leg, hitting my head on the edge of the counter, and accidentally strangling myself with my own brassiere.

I pictured the headline.


I worked a little harder to free myself, and after a good 20 minutes wrestling with my bra, I managed to get everything where it belonged.

When Fiddledaddy and entourage got back to the room, they wondered why I didn’t look as fresh as one would hope I would appear after a nice long shower.

I found a wonderful selection of front-close bras at Target over the weekend.  One was a whopping $32.00.  I didn’t realize this until checking out.  I mused that if I were going to pay $32.00 for a bra, it should at least give me a back rub.  Or something.

I told the elderly cashier that I had changed my mind about the $32.00 bra.  She miffed, “I’d go braless before I’d pay THAT for a bra.”

Well.  That just gave me a visual that I really wished I didn’t have, and frankly, I started laughing.  Inappropriately.  As I’m wont to do these days.

Round two of testing should not be as horrifying as those administered last week.  I will likely post my adventures on Twitter again.  Honestly, it helped me stay somewhat sane last week.  And I felt like I was in touch with so many of you all, and again THANK YOU FOR THE PRAYERS.

If you followed me on Twitter, you know that I didn’t handle the knee fluid extraction with the grace and dignity that one would expect of a middle-aged, Christian woman.

I’ve had my knee drained before, and I did very well.  But this time, there was little fluid, and they needed A LOT OF FLUID FOR TESTING, and that involved really digging around under my knee cap.  Oh, and the TWO local anesthetic shots didn’t work at all and they had to go in TWICE with the elephant needle.  Fiddledaddy tried to remind me that I had survived child birth.  Three times.  And all without the benefit of birthing hips.  I reminded him that on all birthing occasions, I HAD AN EPIDURAL.  AND THEY WORKED!

Fiddledaddy still hasn’t recovered the feeling in his right hand.  And as I mentioned on Twitter, I owed the cuss jar $1,256.75.  And that was just for the words I said OUT LOUD.

If you follow me on Twitter, and you don’t think I’m following you, please leave me your Twitter name in the comments.  Honestly, you guys talked me down from the ledge more than a few times last week.

I’ll be updating.  But I likely won’t know anything for a while.  I have lots of fancy shmancy tests scheduled for this week and next week at the Mayo Clinic, and then I meet with my orthopedic specialist there the following week.

The finish line is in sight.  I’m sure of it.

20 Responses to A Room With a View

  • Look, don’t worry about the cuss jar, we can all pitch in and help you pay if off. 🙂

  • Oh, Honey…I began to cry when I read, “Because I’m losing the use of my arms and right hand…” I’m on my knees for you.

    Oh…and, break the darn tip jar.

    • My sweet Jules, I feel your prayers. And praise God I can still type. But even if that’s affected, I’ll keep writing, even if I have to type with my nose! Okay, I just had a visual of myself typing with my nose and I laughed most inappropriately. Clearly I need help. 🙂

  • Having recently tried on a two piece shirt that I almost got stuck in at Penney’s I was laughing quite hard at your bra predicament. I can so relate! I imagine the dressing room monitors got a good laugh watching me too! It is good you can laugh at yourself, it will help keep you sane through all of this.
    Still praying for you and for your family. I hope you get answers soon!

  • I am so sorry for all you are going through. At least they were able to rule out RA. Praying for you.

    • LynnMarie,
      I didn’t mean to give that impression. I’m actually meeting with their Theumatologist on Tuesday. Everything is still up for grabs. 🙂

  • At least you can still laugh. And do you know that their is scientific proof that swearing can reduce pain and stress?


    Who decides what’s a swear and what’s not? Let ’em fly, Dee Dee. We’ve got your back.

  • Due to shoulder issues that I’m in total denial with and refusing to see the the doctor about, I so totally get the sports bra situation. I have had to get Hubby to help me out of mine on more than 1 occasion. I switched to those sport tank tops with the sports bra built in. I can get out of those a little bit easier, more fabric to hold onto.

    Good luck with the follow-up! Knowing you are being taken serious is a relief in and of itself.

  • I chuckled as I read your post, though I do empathize with what you are going through. I think you have earned the right to go braless 🙂 If you are looking for snap front bras, they have them at Kohl’s for about $12-15. If you are at the park on Friday for the play time with the kids I’ll pass along a coupon that I have.

    Best Wishes!

  • I’ve been following this saga closely, since it is similar to what I went through some 15 years ago. Is it RA, is it not RA, is it gout (I would have to start dressing in Henry VIII outfits, and it wouldn’t be a good look for me)…it took several months before the inflamation settled down. It is RA. The first year…well, you don’t want to know. Yeah, fastening my bra, removing a wet swim suit…humbling. Now it’s under control, a minimum of pain, I can do nearly everything a 5’1″ woman can do for herself (kitchen cabinets being built by men, of course), and I feel well. Hang in there; if it turns out to be RA, it is treatable and controllable.

  • So I was self-medicating with a little dark chocolate peanut butter while I read your post. I got all sad for you and your sad appendages and then I snorted and nearly choked to death on my peanut butter when I read your imaginary headline.

    But if I’ve gotta go, death by chocolate peanut butter and laughter is the way to do it…

    Praying you get some answers and healing soon.

  • I have a pinched nerve in my back right now..or a strained muscle or something. I can hardly use my left arm and shoulder. I can so understand and commiserate with you on the whole bra debacle. Though I laughed out loud so hard about the headline of being strangled by a sports bra.
    Men, just don’t get it. Do they?

  • BTW, My twitter address is gibsongirl247@Twitter.

  • I’ve been following your saga also and hope for answers for you soon…your attitude is inspiring as well as the many friends who hold you up in prayer….don’t worry about the jar….throwing it out the window actually might be therapeutic….

  • I’ve been following along via twitter and here. So sorry you’re having to go through this but hopeful that answers are soon to come. : ) I can’t even imagine how hard it must be for you to get around right now.

    I too have struggled with the sports bra. I’m not a fan. I got stuck in one in a dressing room at Walmart and thought there gonna have to send in the jaws of live to cut me out of it. (you better believe THAT little escapade got it’s own post!) At one point, the thought did cross my mind to just leave it on and as casually as possible tell them I wanted to wear it out.

    Hope you feel better soon! : )

  • Oh man! It’s times like this I wish I didn’t have such a vivid imagination. LOL

    Praying for you!

  • Oh brother. I do know how to spell my name. That is my post up there too. (I’m not sure it really matters…but oh well….)

  • You sure have been through the mill and back, praying they find out what is wrong soon.

  • I’m definetly praying for you!

    And by the way…. as you were talking about the whirl pool it reminded me of my Nana’s friend. She had her bunions removed on both of her feet and thus couldn’t walk. She, being stubborn, crawled up her stairs and into the bath tub.

    After awhile, she realized that she was stuck. And her husband wasn’t home. So. Finally, literally THREE HOURS LATER, her husband came home.

    As soon as she heard him walk in she screamed, “COME UP HERE AND HELP ME!”

    “What? What’s wrong?”

    “I can’t get out of the bath tub! You need to lift me up”

    “I can’t lift you! I’ll just call the fire department..”


    After she threatened divorce, her husband finally had the good sense to try to lift her out. 😀