Monday, August 18, 2008

Yes! The MRI results are in and I have a torn medial meniscus. Unfortunately the MRI cost me $1,120. This is still less than the $3,500 transmission job on my mini-van. The next step is to see if the surgeon can fix it.


Marf said...

Ah, so I see God came through for you this time (let's not give the doctor's keen eye and credit, now).

I suppose to be fair, it's taken them this long to find it... That's not too keen on the doctor's part.

Looney said...

Actually, God gave the doctor a keen eye!

My longer term problem was an exercised induced asthma which shut me down in a number of sports events back when I was young. Frequently it would leave me coughing for the next month or two. Many doctors looked at the chronic cough, but all were baffled.

Delirious said...

I am reminded of a story I once heard, and thought I would share it with you.

"Many of us have had experiences with the sweet power of prayer. One of mine was shared with a stake patriarch from southern Utah. I first met him in my medical office more than 40 years ago, during the early pioneering days of surgery of the heart. This saintly soul suffered much because of a failing heart. He pleaded for help, thinking that his condition resulted from a damaged but repairable valve in his heart.

Extensive evaluation revealed that he had two faulty valves. While one could be helped surgically, the other could not. Thus, an operation was not advised. He received this news with deep disappointment.

Subsequent visits ended with the same advice. Finally, in desperation, he spoke to me with considerable emotion: “Dr. Nelson, I have prayed for help and have been directed to you. The Lord will not reveal to me how to repair that second valve, but He can reveal it to you. Your mind is so prepared. If you will operate upon me, the Lord will make it known to you what to do. Please perform the operation that I need, and pray for the help that you need.” 21

His great faith had a profound effect upon me. How could I turn him away again? Following a fervent prayer together, I agreed to try. In preparing for that fateful day, I prayed over and over again, but still did not know what to do for his leaking tricuspid valve. Even as the operation commenced, 22 my assistant asked, “What are you going to do for that?”

I said, “I do not know.”

We began the operation. After relieving the obstruction of the first valve, 23 we exposed the second valve. We found it to be intact but so badly dilated that it could no longer function as it should. While examining this valve, a message was distinctly impressed upon my mind: Reduce the circumference of the ring. I announced that message to my assistant. “The valve tissue will be sufficient if we can effectively reduce the ring toward its normal size.”

But how? We could not apply a belt as one would use to tighten the waist of oversized trousers. We could not squeeze with a strap as one would cinch a saddle on a horse. Then a picture came vividly to my mind, showing how stitches could be placed—to make a pleat here and a tuck there—to accomplish the desired objective. I still remember that mental image—complete with dotted lines where sutures should be placed. The repair was completed as diagrammed in my mind. We tested the valve and found the leak to be reduced remarkably. My assistant said, “It’s a miracle.”

I responded, “It’s an answer to prayer.”

Russell M. Nelson, “Sweet Power of Prayer,” Liahona, May 2003, 7–9

Delirious said...

oops...forgot to take out the footnote markers, sorry.

Bunc said...

I sympathise with your knee trouble Looney. I tore a cartiledge in my knee some years ago doing karate and a little peace of it floats about inside my knee and once a year or so unexpectedly it decides to see what the outside world is like and tries to slip out resulting in a very painful locked knee.

For someone who enjoys running as much as you do I am sure that such a pain in the knee must be a real pain in the ... knee.

As you believe in "the intelligent designer" you should scold him the next time you are talking to him because he didnt actually design us very well, what with bad backs, bad knees, appendixes that have no function and so on. All in all a very poor design job.
I hope you can get it sorted.

Looney said...

Bunc, that is a good point regarding the "intelligent designer". In this case, however, it was the less than intelligent designs of myself that inspired me to take up snow boarding in my mid 40's. The accident from several years ago is what tore the knee.

Bunc said...

So what you are saying is that the "Intelligent Designer" messed up and the design of your Brain is substandard? I cant argue with that ;-)

Looney said...

Bunc, I believe that the design of my brain was itself according to the highest design standards. God, however, gave me a Free Will and I made choices to use my brain in a less than optimal manner! Of course the Scottish Presbyterians are hard core Calvinists and they would insist that there is no such thing as Free Will, only Predestination!

Marf said...

@ Bunc: It's a losing battle against a believer to argue about the flaws in human "design". They'll inevitably default to the argument that we were designed that way so we could learn from the experience, and be a better person for it.

Frankly I think there are better, and less torturous ways an all-knowing-all-powerful-benevolent-being could teach us.

Looney said...

Marf, the actual Biblical reference for why we have defects is something you will probably enjoy:

"When men began to increase in number on the earth and daughters were born to them, the sons of God saw that the daughters of men were beautiful, and they married any of them they chose. Then the Lord said, 'My Spirit will not contend with man forever, for he is mortal; his days will be a hundred and twenty years.'" - Genesis 6

Talk about dirty old men ... This was just before God destroys the Earth with the flood, and after the flood, the life span decreased asymptotically from ~900 years to 120 years - per the ages listed in the Bible.

The Epic of Gilgamesh has a similar flood story with a complaint against man, but the god complained that people were 'too noisy'. I wonder what he thinks about ghetto blasters and heavy metal.