Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Wherein I Defy My Actual MD

Me in the waiting room, holding a Bakugan. Photo by Bob Rosenberg

This is part two of this story.

The morning after our return to California, my injured foot was blue-ish, yellow-ish, swollen and grouchy. I was much the same. I couldn't ignore the pain anymore. Bob and I made the drive to the office of my real, non-internet doctor.

Dr. H is a brilliant man and I have been a patient of his for the past 19 years. I adore going to his office not just to see him but because the waiting room will surely offer an array of stars rivaling an episode of the Love Boat. Was that the cast of American Gladiators in the hallway? Yes it was. Was that Mr. T holding the elevator door for you? Indeed. Jeff Conaway coming out of the bathroom? You bet. Who needs to read People magazine while you wait for the nurse? Not me. People comes to life on the couch next to me and makes loud calls on an iphone. I love Hollywood.

Dr. H sums up my situation, “So you did this six days ago on a salon chair and are just coming in now. In that time, you have been doing a lot of walking and standing in high heels and you also went dancing?”

My son adds, "And it looks so much wuhrse."

“All correct.”

“Was there alcohol involved at least?”

“No, I still don’t drink, I just have poor judgment. But look at the great hair. Am I right?”


As I headed into the x-ray room a tiny, elderly man headed me off at the door and edged me back into the hall. The technician said, “Mr. De Laurentiis, Ms. Rosenberg is first. It will only take a moment. Please have a seat.”

“Meh,” said Mr. De Laurentiis as his beautiful wife laughed and led him away.

The x-ray showed that the bone was not broken. Dr. H guessed a stress fracture but did not want to put me through the experience of an MRI to confirm it, bless him. I was told to stay off my feet, elevate, ice and Ibuprofin. And wear a more supportive (ugly) shoe. And no high heels. And no dancing. I agreed, of course.

The next day I took Bob to the beach. We ran around in the sand. We chased waves and played Frisbee. My foot hurt but my hair? Still perfect. Dr. H called to check on me and I let the call go to voicemail.

I will ice and elevate my foot tomorrow. Really. And I will keep the dancing to a minimum. Probably.


  1. Hey- doctors don't know everything. I had a terrible foot problem for months and I figured out what it was and it was a major tendon and I still didn't go to the doctor and I was dancing with my grandson and suddenly, I felt that tendon slip back to where it was supposed to be.
    A dancing healing.
    But I wasn't wearing heels.

  2. Well I'm the kind of gal that would take time out to let a paper cut heal so I'm not sure whether I should bow down to your magical pain defying mom powers or wag my finger at you! Either way hope the foot's all better.

  3. Mind over matter.

    Well, hair over matter.


  4. I love that De Laurentiis tried to beat you to the xray room. Even at the doctor's office, your life is way more exciting than mine. Enjoy your ugly shoes. Snap.

  5. And the best part is, you didn't even need De Laurentiis to make this sound like a Fellini film.

  6. Yay for great hair. Truly.

    Did you try a spray of Windex? Couldn't hurt to try right?

  7. I have to admit that I had to pretend that you did not mention your broken foot in NYC or I would not have been able to talk with you for getting all fainty and ill on your behalf.

    Please, for the sake of my consciousness, sit down and put some ice on that sucker.

    PS Your hair is fabulous.

  8. I can't stop looking at that are wearing a cardigan. In August! I'm sooo jealous. It was 103 here in Austin today.

    Congrats on the fab hair and non-broken foot.

  9. I'm sorry about your foot, but your hair did look BEAUTIFUL at BlogHer!
    : )

  10. I'm so sorry for your foot! But these post made me laugh out loud. At least you weren't dancing to Whitesnake, right?

    Having born witness to the fabulousness that is your hair at BlogHer, I'm having a really hard time reconciling that with the 80s look. It was, truly, gorgeous.