The thigh bone connected to the hip bone...

Twelve years ago my left hip managed to fracture itself after a prolonged period of time on Prednisone.  Seems that stuff causes osteoporosis, which it did in my case causing the hip to shatter one Sunday night and my having to crawl to my couch from my kitchen, a journey of fifteen feet which took over two hours.  The good doctor decided that at 50 I didn't require a hip replacement so he put four very looooooong screws in place.  I was off of work for six weeks and rehabbing for another few weeks after that.  Fast forward those twelve years and I now have a lovely cyst surrounding those screws and both will have to come out.  Putz is what he was and who.  The pain from the break was the worse pain I have ever experienced and the morphine drip did little to cut the pain levels.

Now with the cyst it hurts to walk; not like it did before but enough to make me gimpy.  A CT scan has been ordered and the next step is up to the new orthopod, the good doctor with the impossible to pronounce last name.  He did show me the x-rays and I thought I had a white spot on my hip but it proved to be the mouse pointer.  I did however see the cyst surrounding the screws, those mighty screws, and right now he feels like it might be better to take the screws out and fill the holes with super bone gel and get rid of the cyst altogether.  I am on board with that idea but wonder how long I will be sidelined.  So as Roseanne Roseannadanna used to opine "it's always something".

Other than that I am having a lovely week.  Bored at work without my traditional authority work to do, waiting for some records to be loaded, I fill my days with computer courses and unmulvering records that should have never been mulvered in the first place (sorry for the specific library jargon).  It is mind numbing work and I live for the afternoons when I can take those online courses.  And walks.  But with the ache in my hip I have to push myself to walk.  I did get a steroid injection in the offending hip yesterday but the groin ache is still present.  But walk I will.  I barely got in five miles yesterday but I did.   Not the ten miles I was able to do Sunday but at least the five.  And that on a gimpy leg.  Call me Sore-us Gimp.  No, call me Ishmael.  I see a wail in my future.