Das Boot

I am now the proud owner of a boot.  One of those awful things for your ankle that is the alternative to a cast - for a tendon gone bad.  Here is my complaint:
- "They" don't know if the tendon is torn or just inflamed.  I've been messing with it for months now and it kept getting worse, as these things are wont to do.
- And why don't they know tear v 'itis' - because I can't have the MRI that would show that.
- And why can't I have the MRI?  Well, because Skippy the implanted defibrillator (ICD) says so.  I'm bitching now, but geez - you live through the whole heart-stopping-without-warning thing, you make adjustments, you adjust, adjust, adjust.  And now the no-magnet rule comes home to roost.
- Yes, that first M in MRI is 'magnetic' and Skippy apparently doesn't do well with magnets.  Can't hold a magnet, can't carry around a stereo speaker - I didn't even know those things had magnets - and bam.  Cannot have an MRI.

So I have das boot.  Three weeks and we see if it resolves.  I don't even want to think about that.  But I really do believe that orthopedists and plastic surgeons need to team up.  If I have to go under anesthesia for an ankle, I damn well want some 'facial rejuvenation' at the same time.  Seems only fair to me.

Whoopsie. I do believe I am getting old.