It's official. I am a certified little old lady in support hose.

I may have held it off awhile longer but since my doctor noticed that my blood wasn't making it from the bottom of my feet back to my heart as it should, I signed up to have my varicose veins worked on. Worked on means a vein surgeon, in three visits to the clinic, did what he called a VNUS Closure® procedure, described in the written material thus: "Using ultrasound, your physician will position the Closure catheter into the diseased vein through a small opening in the skin. The tiny catheter powered by radio-frequency(RF) energy delivers heat to the vein wall. As the thermal energy is delivered, the vein wall shrinks and the vein is sealed closed. Once the diseased vein is closed, the catheter is withdrawn, and blood is re-routed to other healthy veins."

Sounds simple. Local anesthetic was used so I wouldn't feel any punctures, so that part was okay. Then the printed sheet said,"Following the procedure, a simple bandage is placed over the insertion site, and additional compression may be provided to aid healing." by the time I left the office after the first procedure was done (on my left leg) with my leg wrapped and taped and bound with Ace bandages and had they done both at the same time I could have qualified as a mummy if they'd bandaged the rest of my body to match.

Anyway, after I removed the wraps and bandages I was instructed to walk, and sit with my legs elevated and,--here's the good part--wear prescribed compression hose for several weeks. I selected the panty-hose style because I already had a couple of pair of thigh high compression hose left over from a few years back when my legs were swelling from edema. Said support hose are not covered by most insurances.

My timing was bad. I should have had this procedure done in late autumn. Wearing panty-hose on hot summer days is crazy, unless you have a 9-5 job in an air conditioned office and have to dress up. But once I get them on it isn't so bad. It's the putting on that creeps me out. Fifteen minutes lying on my back in bed in the morning inching them on over talcum powdered legs gets my heart racing and my fingernails torn to shreds. the cardiac exercise is okay that early in the day, but if I ever run into the man (had to be a man and a sadistic s.o.b. at that) who invented these torturous garments I'll rip his heart out with my bare teeth.

Another chapter in an aging broad's life. And I thought menopause was bad!