Not Running With an Ankle or a Rash. No, I'm Not!!

The week has been anything but uneventful, and this post is long. Read at your own risk.

Tuesday: Doctor's appointment about my ankle. Dr. Dixit took X-rays and said they looked fine, but wanted to do an MRI, because my issue was perplexing him and he wanted to see it a little better. Later I got a call that they found something in the X-ray and wanted to redo them because they found something weird in them. I'll find out soon if that weird thing was in my body or not. They decided not to redo the X-rays when I told them I already had the MRI scheduled.

Wednesday: Wellness exam. Yes, the physical has been replaced with the euphemistic Wellness Exam, where my doctor actually sat down and asked me how I was feeling. No, I don't mean as part of the conversation, he really wanted to know. It was a situation so strange I almost responded inappropriately with information about blaming it all on my mother and hating my father. :-) The exam went well. I was deemed healthy, blood was drawn (Time to check the cholesterol), and for those keeping score, I coughed well, my testes are healthy and the prostate is doing fine. It seems the older I get the more places my doctor wants to stick his finger. Or was he just a gay doctor? I may never know.

Thursday: MRI completed. The MRI was uneventful. Lay down, put in these earplugs and we'll wake you when you are done. Yes, I fell asleep. An MRI is an incredibly loud procedure, though not as loud as a Velvet Revolver concert. However, the rhythm of all the noise is quite soothing and I was out like a light.  I have the films and they will be interpreted Monday.

Friday: Thursday afternoon actually I developed a rash. I thought at first it was athlete's foot in a strange place, because the ankle brace was creating a bit of a moist environment around my ankle especially if I walked a ways and perspired a little.  However, by the time I got up in the morning I had a rash on my hands, elbows, knees, and ankles, and my head itched. So, it was back to the doctor. I debated even going to the doctor, but the advice nurse thought it would be a good idea. So I missed a talk by a Belgian author in order to go to the doctor. This entailed a 45 minute nap in the visitation room while I waited for the doctor to show up. She arrived and was completely perplexed. Using words like eczema, scabies, and psoriasis I thought she was just going to tell me I had cooties. I could have handled that, but she didn't.  She called in a doctor--she was actually a nurse practitioner--and he didn't know what was going on either. The usual advice was then given: take this steroid creme (I've already got 3 tubes at home) and call us if it doesn't get better. Just once I would like someone to tell me what this shit is. All I can find is that it's an environmental or food allergy. If it's a food allergy it's not a food I often come in contact with, for this happens only about once per year. Was it that cheese danish I ate before the MRI?

All of this is to explain that I haven't run this week, trying to give my ankle some rest. I will try a short run tomorrow, while trying to avoid hills. Then I'll find out what is going on on Monday.

Peace out!