Every Event Needs An Outfit -Scooter Girl, Fashionista or Practical Stylist ???

The Gluteal Fold - The crease separating the buttocks from the thigh - according to the medical dictionary and my doctor.

Here are some images to help understand where I am going with this posting.

Realizing that within days I would be receiving a slice in my gluteal fold of 8-9 cm, and three screws embedded into my Ischial Tuberosity (sit bone) which will hold my proximal hamstrings in place through the tendon to which they are attached, I had a realization that regular under and outer clothing would not be the recovery fashion of choice.  After pondering this for a short while, I instantly came up with my plan, after all I am a fashionista right?  Boy boxer shorts, tank tops and tee shirts and thong underwear where what I set my shopping sights upon.

This ended up being a simple task as I pondered the selections in my local "big box store", you know the one, as I happened upon packages of very colorful old fashioned cotton boxers in the men's section.  Colors of oranges, pinks, blues, lime and lemon.  I actually tried them on and found the bigger size, in my case medium, was the better choice because they fell loosely over my gluteal fold.  I proceeded to the ladies tee shirt section and to my delight I found tee shirts and tank tops in every color found in the boxers.  Onto the ladies underwear department and voila, thong underwear and simple cotton sports bras in mix match packages, in the same colors!  All on the cheap, yet as I checked out with my lot, I felt quite happy with myself and my bags full of color coordinated post operative attire.

Here is a sampling:

One must not lose sight of fashion just because 

they are going to be laid up for several months with a cut along the panty line and screws placed just beneath said cut.

As an additional bit of fashion advice concerning the day of outpatient surgery and dressing for the ride home, invest in a comfy granny gown, found at the same big box store.  My husband had the idea, which I at first questioned, being that the styles went against my fashion style and judgement.  He went out the day before surgery and just bought one going on the hunch that I would be comfy for the ride home wearing a long, gently flowing gown.  He was right, I admitted as he placed it over my head before leaving the hospital for the groggy ride home.  No undies needed and the ride home was cozy as could be wearing this:

The moral of the post op fashion story, dress for comfort, but do not compromise on style when you will be wearing the same kind of clothing for weeks on end during a long recovery period.  In my case, I am still enjoying the selections 7 weeks post op while in my cocoon, unable to drive. You will appreciate the colors and coordination and have some sense of control when you cannot wear your favorite pre-surgery attire.  

Trust me however, during such a long recovery, you will open your closet, pull out your favorite items and glance at them with longing.  At this point, they will not provide bodily comfort however they will motivate you to look ahead into the future, beyond recovery.  In the end, I think Scooter Girl is both fashionista and practical stylist!

I hope this has helped someone out there toying with this same issue.  Stay tuned for more stories from Scooter Girl, tales of a Cartwheel injury, Complete Proximal hamstring Tear/Avulsion/Rupture....all three will come up on a search.

Thank you for reading my stories, please feel free to comment and share yours.

Ma, Do You Want To Be Lame For The Rest of Your Life? Get an MRI ! Notes from Scooter Girl

There comes a time when your kids speak to you with firm, emphatic, COMMAND!  "Mom! go get an MRI, call right now."  "Ma, do you want to be lame for the rest of your life?  Get an MRI!"  Your leg will never heal right and you will physically be half the person you were!  Those words cut right through the fog that had been lingering over me for a week after the cartwheel.  I had been going it alone, not thinking it was so bad.  I wanted to believe that it was just a bad tear.  Yet, it only felt worse, and to top it off, I was concerned about spending money on myself for medical treatment.

I made an appointment to see my primary doctor right away.  They were able to get me in within two days due to a cancellation.  At the appointment my pain level was really high and after climbing up to the exam table, getting the once over of the leg by my doc, climbing down and standing, due to my inability to sit properly I nearly passed out as the pain level was through the roof in several places behind my upper leg.  She said she could not tell how severe it was and referred me to the organizations non-surgical ortho doc. several days away.  I was spasming so badly in her office she offered me a shot of Ketorolac Tromethamine (Toradol) in my right buttock.  She also gave me a prescription for Tizanidine for muscle spasm.

I went home that day, knowing that something was really wrong, called my son, who lives in Asheville, and his response was of major concern spoken with authority.  While my husband didn't think it was as major, my son had a bad feeling about it.  He was incredibly angry that the doctor didn't order an MRI that day and implored me to call her office and have her write an order for one immediately and to go ahead and call an MRI agency and make my own appointment.  Honestly, it all seemed so difficult for me.  I have been healthy my whole life and navigating medical calls and appointments was looking like an arduous task ahead.  He spelled it out for me, about being lame the rest of my life, walking with a limp, never having my healthy leg again.  His words cut right through me!  My kid, the one I spent his life caring for, guiding, consoling, disciplining was now in the role for the first time of instructing me with firm voice and tough LOVE!  My sister, who lives in Kansas City was mirroring his same concern and at the same time she was trying to guide me on now to arrange my own MRI.

I was able to get my MRI referral and make an appointment with an independent imaging company the next day.  My husband drove me and by this time he was beginning to suspect that my injury was more complicated then a hamstring pull or belly tear.  (the belly is what the middle ground of our hamstring is referred to, typically the location of a regular sports injury tear, when some of the fibers have torn cross-ways).

I spent my half hour in the MRI tube, joked around with the technician about how I had injured myself with a cartwheel, and upon finishing, I looked at her in the eye and said, "okay, I know you cannot tell me anything, but should I be worried?"  She looked back at me and said, "It is good you listened to your pain." Then upon leaving the facility, with my disk in hand, the other tech yelled across to my husband, "she deserves a really expensive dinner out tonight, but no dancing!"  Chuckles abounded, I was worried.

I put that disk into my computer as soon as I got home.  After figuring out how to open the files, I was able to see the 200+ images.  Of course I could not tell what I was seeing with the exception of one thing.  The bad leg was completely white on the images.  Swollen tissue compared to the other leg and white stringy webbing.  I sunk, I knew it was not a good thing I was seeing.  The next morning, Friday first thing, my doctor's office called to confirm that I was keeping my appointment on Monday with the Orthopedic Doc.  Her nurse was very concerned and just blurted it out ---- "you have a complete hamstring tear and will possibly need surgery, please keep that appointment!".

                                                 One of the images

Hamstring research commenced - now I knew my life was about to change, I called my son and my sister and thanked them for making me act.

You just never know what will happen when you do a cartwheel AND listen to your kids when they speak with wisdom!  

Thank you for reading.  I have much to tell going forward, stay tuned and I welcome your comments and good humor.  Rachel - Scooter Girl.