How I spent my St. Patrick's Day

I've detailed my struggles with de Quervain's disease before, even going so far as to recommend everyone in the world get cortisone shots. So it won't surprise you to learn that it flared up again right after Baby V's birth. It's basically tendonitis-o-the-mom, or really painful thumb joints.

Today, I used up almost a whole day of babysitter/naptime to go stand in line with all of the other achy slobs at the orthopedic clinic, because DUDE, I needed the cortisone shot.

I wouldn't say I'd come close to dropping the baby, because you might take her away from me. So I'll just say I started losing my coordination, and I started to avoid carrying my children because the pain was becoming more intense by the day.

When Chebbles was little, I tried to "power through" the pain until I was truly debilitated.

Not so this time. As with so many other things in second-time motherhood, I wasn't dicking around. Just as I didn't write a "birth plan" and I continue to rely on formula supplementation, I am taking the true path of least resistance with the de Quervain's disease, and I am insisting on medical intervention... right away.

I don't care what the possible drawbacks are, I don't know, extra hair or whatever. Or turning my innocent girl-child into a hermaphrodite (not really, Baby V fans). I just want the pain to stop.

Dr. B, the orthopedic surgeon, looks just like my old algebra teacher. He dresses formally, and today he wore a green carnation on his lapel. I tried not to leap up from the examining room table and grab said lapel in my achy arms and demand he give me the cortisone shot immediately, but I wanted to. Instead, I pretended to be casual about it, saying, "Yes, well, what do YOU think we should do about this pain?"

And, as usual, he said, "Have you tried using the thumb stabilizer?"

And I didn't say, "What the HELL, man? Thumb stabilizers are for IDIOTS who don't know that the only thing that helps this condition is a big fat SHOT TO THE BONE."

Instead I kind of fibbed, and pretended that I'd been using a thumb stabilizer to no avail. In reality, I didn't even mess with it this time. Have you ever tried to wear a big brace on your wrist and change two dozen diapers a day? It's a disgusting combination, not to mention useless against the tendonitis.

This time, he said, "I think we should do X-rays," and I cheerfully agreed, all the while thinking, "Oh my GOD, I have to wait at least twenty more minutes before you shoot up my wrist?"

So I submitted to the X-rays, and the resultant discussion about how it looks like there is some calcification around the relevant bones in my wrist. And I pretended to be interested, just kind of skimming through the conversation in case I had wrist cancer or something, but finally he said, "So let's try to alleviate your pain with some cortisone and hope that helps."

HELL YEAH! I was lying back on the bed with my wrist in the cortisone-shooting position within seconds. I was practically swabbing myself with the betadyne. And I whistled all the way out to the car afterwards, swinging my Band-Aided wrist around, feeling the chilly after-effects of the numbing solution, so happy... so happy.