Warning: Whiney Post Below…

I had another procedure done on my legs today, so I’m back in the d*mn support hose.

I spent most of the morning worrying about the procedure, because the doctor was going to check and see if any of my veins qualified for Phlebectomy (i.e. a fancy word meaning “going in and ripping veins out of your legs using nothing more than glorified tweezers”). I didn’t have any veins that qualified for the procedure this time last year, so I was hopeful the same would be true of today. And it was (well, sort of), so I’ve been spared from this kind of legalized torture for at least another year. Whew.

But I was worried. I hardly have any veins near the surface (all mine are deep within the leg, which is part of the problem). Although, after my last vein surgery in January, I have a couple of new “bulging” veins near my ankle that I feared might qualify for the Phlebectomy. And I was right. They do qualify. But – thanks to said surgery – I am still unable to feel a four inch long section on the inside of my left ankle. If they were to perform a Phlebectomy on the bulging veins in that area, I would be risking permanent nerve damage. So, everyone is hoping that the bulgers can be fixed with Sclerotherapy instead.

Even though Sclero is much less invasive than Phlebectomy, the doctor still won’t consider injecting the veins in my lower, left leg for another two weeks. This is primarily because of the nerve issue – even Sclero could present a risk. And to make the whole situation just that much more annoying, Sclero isn’t covered by my insurance company because so many women use it to treat cosmetic varicose and spider veins. Oh, how I wish I was doing all this for some sort of cosmetic benefit! And, for the record, the fact that I “am not even 30 years old, yet” should not be the reason why my insurance company refuses to pay for my support hose, but it is. Like it isn’t bad enough that I am cursed with the legs of a 70 year old at 28 – just rub it in some more, why don’t you?! I hate you, United Healthcare.

Since they couldn’t get to my left ankle, the evil Sclero woman (who really isn’t evil – only does evil things) decided to inject several of the veins on the top of my right foot. Which, I’m here to tell you, isn’t a pleasant experience. At all.

Grumble, grumble.

I want my mommy...