Gone to America

I’ve been seeing doctors a fair bit recently. My feet have always been strange. Shoes never fit me right and if I walk for more than about fifteen minutes I lose feeling in my middle toes. This was pretty much undiagnosed for most of my life. It, rather than asthma, could well be the reason that I always hated sporting activity of any kind. When you grow up with something like that it doesn’t occur to you that it isn’t normal. I never thought “I don’t like running – my feet hurt”. I always just thought “I don’t like running”.

I’ve worn orthotics for a few years, but they wear out. I needed new ones so I went to a podiatrist. He looked at my feet and told me that I have pes cavus. I’ve known for a while that my feet aren’t optimal but this was the first time I’d actually had it diagnosed. I remember one doctor in Dublin actually did mention pes cavus but she wasn’t sure. I have new orthotics. Orthotics definitely help, but they don’t fix it. Apparently I can get surgery, but it would be incredibly painful with a long recovery and probably involve multiple procedures. Basically it involves breaking the feet and putting them back together again. Something about a wedge and a hammer. I think I’ll just stick with numb toes.

But apparently pes cavus can be a symptom of peripheral neuropathy, so I had to go and see a neurologist. It’s never a good day when somebody tells you you have to go see a neurologist because you might have an incurable wasting disease. So I went and I’m fine.

The point of all this is not that I think you have any particular interest in the state of my health or the weirdness of my feet. I’m just really enjoying the US healthcare system. Of course, I’m appalled by the terrible inequities and the potential for sheer Dickensian nastiness that exists if you don’t have insurance, as I didn’t for most of my first year here (my health plan was “get on a plane”). But if you do have health insurance it’s pretty sweet, to the point where I nearly feel guilty about it. The neurologist I saw had a really nice office in Cornell University, and if I had shown any symptoms they had an EMG test booked for me that afternoon. Thankfully I didn’t need it, but it was great service. Cost to me? $15! My simplistic condemnation of the system has been tempered by my first hand knowledge of how great it can be if you’re fortunate enough to be on the right side of it. I’d rather be sick here (with insurance) than anywhere else.

I had reason to be thankful for my job again last Friday. I went out for a pint or two on Thursday night, and ate some food in the bar. It was nice, but the gravy was scaldingly hot. I didn’t think much about it at the time, but at 4am I woke up gagging on my Uvula. It had swollen up and was dangling down banging against the back of my tongue – all very unpleasant. I didn’t know what was happening – I thought I might be choking. I got out of bed and had a look down my throat in the mirror. I saw that it was my uvula and relaxed a bit – it’s swollen up before, just never this badly. I decided to go back to bed and wait until the morning.

At 9am I called the doctor and – oh joy of insurance! – I got a 10:30 appointment at the ENT department of St. Luke’s hospital. I had a camera shoved up my nose and was informed that my uvula wasn’t in danger of interfering with my vocal chords, which was good. Apparently when that happens your vocal chords can clamp shut and you choke. He gave me a bunch of steroids to reduce the swelling before it got any worse and sent me on my way.

It was an uncomfortable day. I could talk but it was unpleasant and my voice sounded strange to me. I gagged a little everytime my uvula bounced off the back of my tongue, and when I coughed it would shoot forwards into my mouth. Worst of all, I had to spend the day eating baby food. That stuff is nasty! Or at least the variety I bought was. And it comes in such small containers – I had to buy myself an armload just for breakfast! By evening I had improved enough that I could order some meatloaf, mashed potatoes and macaroni and cheese from Spoonbread. I let it cool down for a little while before chowing down. The course of steroids left me feeling jumpy and anxious all week, but that’s dying down now.

As to the apartment, all seems to be moving smoothly forward. I was out there yesterday morning making sure it was in decent condition: all the outlets working, light fittings, hot water, toilet flushing etc. The only problem was with the intercom, which will have to be fixed before I take possession. Hopefully I’ll be signing on Tuesday or Wednesday, closing at the end of January and then moving right in. A new life awaits! Or at least a new apartment. Same thing, right?

I can’t remember if I mentioned this, but I’ll be in Dublin from the 23rd to the 2nd, or thereabouts. Drink!