Lumpy Palms and Frozen Shoulders

I've got 'em. :o) I was at BAMC this afternoon for my appointment at the orthopedic clinic. I always dread having to go, but once I get there they take wonderful care of me. Well, the docs and lab techs do--the civilian staff at the desks, not so much. Two young women staffing the desk in the ortho clinic got into an ugly argument, overheard by everyone in the waiting room--totally unprofessional. Good thing I'm not their supervisor, I'd have fired them on the spot.

Anyway, after x-rays and an exam by the doctor, I found out that the lumps in the palms of my hands are caused by Dupuytren's Syndrome and the pain in my shoulder and arm is from adhesive capsulitis (frozen shoulder). They suspect that both of these are caused or aggravated by my stupid diabetes. Don't ever get diabetes. It's the pits.

The Dupuytrens sometimes resolves on its own. Or it could get worse, causing my hands to contract and making it difficult to grasp. If that happens, there are various treatments to consider. It's not painful, just weird.

The doctor is referring me to physical therapy for the frozen shoulder. Therapy could improve my condition, or it could make it worse. Further treatment will be evaluated after we see what the phyical therapy does.

Having better control of my diabetes could cause improvement in both conditions. I stopped at the pharmacy to pick up my Metformin refill today, and have resolved to take it correctly and to get my diet back on track. I'm not overweight, so sticking to a diet didn't seem as important to me as it should have been. I did great when I was first diagnosed, but lately I haven't been taking my Met, and I haven't been eating properly, plus I've been battling the hyperthyroidism. Thus, lumpy palms and frozen shoulder. I told you I'm falling apart. :o)

I hate it when old ladies sit around complaining about their aches and pains, don't you? :o) So I'll stop and talk about my grandson.

Reece and I went for a walk when he was here on Tuesday. We walked a long way, taking a new route for him. He loved it! We were looking for signs of spring, and he really enjoyed seeing the flowers, birds, and other sights along the way.

The next day when I took him home, he was playing with his cars on the couch at his house and something happened and he said, "Crap." And everyone turned and looked at me! His mama said that he had said it before, and when she asked him who taught him that word, he said, "Gramma." I am embarrassed to say that he did hear that bad word from me, but I promise that I did not teach him, "What the hell?" He must have learned that from his daddy. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.