Socks and how they run my life…

I love socks. I have Halloween socks, Christmas Socks, St. Patrick’s day socks, snowmen socks, socks with cacti, socks , with frogs,  butterflies with maple leaves, socks with bears, moose and sheep. Socks with polka dots, stripes and solids. Rainbow socks. I have two big bins of socks in my closest. Every morning I wake up and I go pick out my socks and my selection and the smiles I get from my patients and their families and ladies in the grocery store make my day. Its a simple pleasure.

In medical school, in one of our orthopedics lecture I was outted. We were discussing the hip exam and the ortho comments a good question to ask your patients with hip pain is how are they doing putting on their socks…  I know I turned beet red for a moment.  My secret seemed exposed.

Ironically even though I love socks.  Putting on my socks is the worse three minutes of my day. And yes it takes three minutes….sometimes longer.  The good leg which has recently switched s/p shiny new hip is easy, 20 second flat.  The bad leg on a bad day is a struggle. I pull my foot back as far it will go and stretch down my leg…wait for it…wait for it…there it is a throbbing, sharp pain that stops me in my tracks mid toe.  Sometimes it will take multiple attempts. I admit I have to get pedicures now because I can’t cut my toe nails on the right side.

You would think that the second time around I would somehow be less hysterical and less neurotic. However, I am most certainly NOT.  I tried though to be better this time. I e-mailed my doctor way earlier than last time.  And then I got a response and I freaked.  FREAKED and completely needlessly.  He was just trying to help, to offer me a myriad of pain relief options before we jumped to the steroid shots that worked last time.  He was being a good doctor but I am not a good patient.  I have trust issues. And I don’t want options, I just want to get through this with minimal interruption of my life…

because in the end thats what it all comes down to…I am yet again terrified as I was three years ago when the left one started going and I was convinced I would never graduate and be a doctor. Well now I don’t want to give it up.  I like it too much. I want to be a resident so badly and the thought of admitting that I might have to take time off or that I am struggling kills me, it kills me.

It kills me even more than putting my socks on the day after a NICU call and a hip effusion.