Prognosis... wait...

Art by my talented sister, Erin Haines    ...

Friday came and went and after 2 and 1/2 hours at Lake View, we have answers (and now we just have to play the waiting game). The nurses, ultra sound tech, and surgeon were amazing.  I went into the consult with much trepidation and walked out feeling relieved and hopeful. 
Not knowing what to expect from the entire process was the worst part.  I didn't know that a lengthy ultrasound was involved on both legs--or that I would have to undress for it--so much for wearing shorts to bypass this necessity.  I had flashbacks of delivery as I had to take deep breaths, hold them in and "bear down" (I never fully understood what I was supposed to do for this process), and then let the breath out.  I did this so many times I got dizzy.  They were checking for my vein's ability to "reflux"--stop and start blood flow again.  I understand that the tech had to push down forcefully to take clear photos frequently, but I walked out of that room so sore--in the cutest pair of navy paper shorts you've ever seen (ha, ha!).  Be jealous.  Be very jealous! 
Our nurse, Larry, was amazing.  He took photos of my veins with my name and a series of numbers underneath--mugshots, if you will.  He asked several questions and wrote everything down, making sure my insurance understood this was affecting my daily activity, work, and sleep (or lack there of).  He talked about getting everything sent to insurance and setting up a surgery date for sometime in November.  We talked about how much it would cost and recovery time.  He answered all of our questions, we shook hands and waited for the surgeon to come in.  We felt like everything had been taken care of.   
We sat there thinking 'this will all be over in a month'.  It was hitting us at a bad time financially as we are having our yard regraded and a retaining wall built around our egress windows this coming week (due to all the flooding problems we had).  And Christmas would be just around the corner as well.  Small inconveniences. 
The surgeon walked in.  Very friendly, Dr. Fry had a little different take on the situation.  It was a bit of an emotional roller coaster ride for Marty and I.  Dr. Fry informed us that most insurance companies will not pay their 80% if some form of 'treatment' is not attempted first.  He also told us that these 'treatments' always fail.  Although I appreciated his honestly, I was disappointed.  He wrote a script for some very sexy (heh, heh) thigh high compression stockings that I would have to be fitted for and wear for three months.  He said I would feel some relief while wearing them, but that would all go away as soon as I took them off.  Happiness.  Some relief is far better than none, however.  The good news was that my situation was bad enough that I only had to to the compression therapy for 3 months while most people have to do it for 6 entire months.  I'm lucky (wink).  Sad that insurance companies MAKE people go through months of pain, fully knowing it won't work, in order for the patient to have their insurance help pay for the procedure (which is why we pay for insurance in the first place, right?).  When I had the stupidity to ask why insurance companies force people do this, Dr. Fry simply said the insurance companies are hoping people will just give up.  This is one woman who is not. 
We go back in to see Dr. Fry on January 7th and will do another ultrasound (standing up this time) to record the reflux (again) in my veins.  We will document that I have worn the compression stockings for three months.  We will take more photos.  We will send all the combined information off to the insurance company and set up a date (that day) for my surgery~no more than 30 days from the 7th.  An end is in sight (smile)!
Some other good new, the vein in my left leg that is most bothersome is actually completely dead and will have to be stripped out.  The little 'bone' fragment I was feeling above my knee (that gets all red and swollen) is a clot, but since the vein is dead, it is not life threatening.  I can continue to run.  It will hurt me, but I won't be hurting anything physically.  Knowing this, I can mind over matter the pain.  Before I kept thinking I was actually hurting something in my leg.  Apparently I have to wear the compression stockings to run or invest in a pair of compression tights (equally alluring, I'm sure).

Cooler weather is approaching, and all of you who know me know I don't wear shorts all that often, so my fancy new 'socks' won't be a bother at all.  Can't wait to see what the 'fitting' entails (as they were closed at 5 and our apt. didn't get over till 5:30 p.m.) and how much they are going to cost.  If only money wasn't a consideration--I could just get it all over with now.
But it will come, and this time of year goes by so very quickly.  Considering I felt like I was going to pass out when he was making the imaginary incisions in my leg and showing me where they would cut and making the stripping motion--it'll give me time to mentally prepare (smile).  He only does surgeries on Fridays too, so I'll have the weekend to recover and won't have the dauntingly impossible task of getting time off from work to have it done.  There will be lots of swelling, and I won't be able to run for 3 to 4 weeks (hey, it'll be mid winter and the treadmill and I get very tired of each other by then), but recovery time is pretty quick.  I may just need a little more help with the boys than usual.
To any of you who took the time to read this painfully boring and meandering blog, God bless you.  Have a wonderful day, and here's to growing older every day (smile) and to keeping up with our kids.  Who knew my mid 30's would be so adventurous?