Yes, the saga of the man finger continues. When we left off, my little digit was the size of sausage proportions. It looked like it belonged on a platter at an Italian restaurant. I was waiting for my blood work to come back - all was normal - so it was off to the Orthopedist for me.
After going through my history and how I had juvenile rheumatoid arthritis (or as I now found out "allegedly" had), I inform him that I will not take any medicine that will make me gain weight. I have my priorities in order. I'm told it's most likely tendinitis but with my history it's best to see another doctor and it's off to the rheumatologist I go.
At Doc #3 we get right down to business, I waste no time. I tell him I don't care what the problem is I won't take anything that is a weight gainer. He gives me a little laugh; I seem to have that effect on people. I elaborate so he doesn't think I'm too crazy. I've already gone through the steroid fat stage once and I don't need to relive that. I know pain and I know fat. I'll take pain hands down any day.
Weeks of worry are now over - final diagnosis - tendinitis for sure. That's it. Nothing more. Sure, they don't know what caused it, why it started or where it came from. Who cares, it's nothing that can't be fixed with a little shot of cortisone. Which is what I got. Pain, not fat. First choice every time.