Monday, March 14, 2011.
Paperwork. Panchito's.
The day began with a trip across the lake to Ochsner's Baptist hospital facility. Familiar, happy place: both our kids were born there. The hospital was a major Katrina disaster, with patients and staff trapped without power in deep flood water. It's great that they've restored Baptist to what it was.
I am here for "pre-op" conferences with the doctor and the anesthesiologist. And for a lot of paperwork. The ladies who took care of that stuff inevitably discovered that I am the guy who talks about food on the radio. That triggered a lot of smiles, questions about food, and requests for autographs. I needed this uplift.
My big question was about the gout. It was so painful--much more than the broken ankle--that it kept me up for hours last night. I am not supposed to take the medicines that I would usually use to lessen this pain, because of how they might complicate the surgery tomorrow. The word is that I just have to put up with it for now.
The only thing left in the air was what time the surgery would be. I would not learn that until around four in the afternoon, when the call from the hospital came right in the middle of the radio show, when Mary Ann was out of the house. I turned my mike off and hoped the caller on the air would just keep going long enough for me to get the info. I think I heard eleven-thirty tomorrow morning.
Mary Ann wanted lunch, and pointed us in the direction of Riverbend. No matter where we went, I would have to eat in the car. I have no wheelchair or any other way to get around. We thought about calling Rick Barton to take his offer of lending me his knee walker, but couldn't reach him.
I suggested that we try Panchitta's, a new Mexican place people are telling me good things about. It's in the long-ago former Streetcar Sandwiches storefront, next to the Basil Leaf. Mary Ann pulled the car into an illegal parking space astride the sidewalk, hoping that we could point to my splint in lieu of a handicapped parking permit.
The menu looked great. Right off, I saw something that sounded good: chicken enchiladas with mole poblano. It came with rice (a little dry) and beans (a little soupy). The main part of the meal, however, was just delicious, the bitter chocolate of the sauce doing what it was supposed to do.
Mary Ann found a chorizo burrito that appealed more in concept than in execution. To her, anyway. She said the chorizo was ground up a bit too much, triggering a genetic "texture problem" that seems to afflict everyone in her family.
So near yet so far! Sidewalk tables were within a few feet of the car, but we couldn't figure a way for me to get to them. The split is so heavy that it throws my balance off. And with the gout in my good foot, hopping is out of the question anyway. The only thing that would have worked was a crane. We ate in the car.
However, this was my first restaurant meal since my accident. Hurray for that!
A worse situation presented itself when we got home. I scooted myself up the five steps to the house sitting down. But once I got to the top, I couldn't figure out how to get up. I wound up crawling halfway across the house on all fours until I found the right combination of sturdy surfaces and walls at the right heights to push myself up, with great effort. I literally had fallen and couldn't get up.
While I did the radio show, Mary Ann went on a hunt for appliances to help me. She came back with a walker. It has four wheels, two of which swivel. And handlebars--with hand brakes! (All I need is tiger tails to hang from the ends of them.) A cushion in the center functions both as a seat for when the crip gets to where he's going, and a place to put his knee while his good leg pushes him along. It looked good in theory. But the gout vetoed the idea, at least for now. I can't put any pressure on either of my feet today. I just kept scooting around in my desk chair, incurring the wrath of Mary Ann, who says it's tearing up the wood floors. I built those floors with my own hands, so I feel justified in ignoring that issue.
Panchita's. Riverbend: 1434 S Carrollton Ave. 504-281-4127.
