I don’t talk much about my issues with chronic pain on my blog because, well, it’s depressing. And if I did start bitching about how every living second of my day is spent like this…
…I’d have to start offering free samples of Prozac to you readers.
But today is your lucky day. (No, I don’t have samples of Prozac, but if you email me, I’ll send you my psychiatrist’s card.) I’m giving you a recap of my pain specialist appointment that happened 2 weeks ago.
On that day, I woke up more excited than a kid on Christmas day. After all, I had only waited 7 months to see him.
Yea, that wasn’t a typo. S-E-V-E-N months.
I’ve never been so excited to see a doctor before. In fact, I was so excited that I skipped up to his office which is quite a feat since:
A. I have more metal in my spine than Flava Flav has in his mouth
and B. I haven’t felt the right side of my leg since 2006.
I reached his office and when I opened the door, peaceful doves representing my salvation flew out.
They were flies.
I greeted the lovely secretary with the enchanting smoker’s lung with a smile, my health card, and my medical records from my most awesome USofA doctors.
Was she impressed?
Because I had stapled the pages and she had to un-clip them.
An entire year’s worth of reports.
Hey, I understand her frustration. Un-stapling papers is tough business. There is always a risk for paper cuts and getting the staples jammed under your nail. That’s nothing to laugh about.
But I should have at least got some credit for arranging the records in chronological order and by physician.
I always come prepared.
After she bitched and moaned and hacked up her left lung, she led me to the exam room and directed me to sit on one of those hard plastic chairs. You know the ones that grind your butt bones and makes your ass sweat?
That just happens to me?
Anyways, she hands me a 3 page form to fill out. It was an “All About Me” form and I squeeeeed in delight because what blogger doesn’t love writing about themselves?
Man, was the doctor ever in for a treat.
Then I waited.
And memorized the “Get Your Flu Shot Before It Gets You” poster.
And surprised myself when I remembered all the words to a Backstreet Boy song played on the overhead radio.
And I readjusted my sweaty ass on the plastic seat.
And I checked my hair in the mirror…What? I wanted to make a good impression.
And then there was a knock at the door…
It was him.
I pictured him to be like Jesus only he was actually going to listen to my prayers and answer them.
Ok, that was I bit much. I apologize.
And then he took a seat and stared long and hard at my very well written “About Me Form”.
Then he said:
Doctor C: Oh, I don’t recognize any of the doctors that you have listed
Me: Well, they’re my doctors from Michigan.
Doctor: Why Michigan?
Me: I was injured at work in Michigan. I’ve been seeing them.
Then…THEN…you know what he said?
Doctor C: WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY OFFICE THEN?
And he said it so sternly.
Then he closed my chart and threw in on his desk like a piece of trash.
Can I tell you how crushed I was?
I went on to explain to him about my employer situation and how they refuse to pay for me anymore and that it is going to court…blah blah…but it didn’t matter.
He was annoyed with me and my superior Michigan doctors.
Yea I said superior.
Then he went on to do his physical exam and I can tell you that since my injury in 2003, I have never been man handled by a doctor like that. He bent me and twisted me far beyond my limitations and when I said “Ow that hurts!” and “Did something just pop?” he never listened or stopped or apologized.
I. WAS. IN. TEARS.
Then to top it off he says to me:
Doctor C: It’s very clear that you have multiple issues going on here. I won’t be certain about my treatment plan until you get a bone scan. Once I get the results, we will go from there.
A bone scan?
In the 7 months that I waited to see him, did he not read my report and think “Perhaps it would be beneficial for her to get a bone scan while we wait. That way, when I see her, we will have everything in order”
No he didn’t.
So now today, 2 weeks later, I have a bone scan to go to. Then I don’t get to see Doctor C until the END OF OCTOBER.
I already hate his face.
I know, you’re all thinking that I should just find someone else. But I can’t.
I live in Canada.
Home of free health care and where everyone is DYING to actually access it.
What is the point of this post?
The point is people, I need a fucking break.
And that I wasted a good leg shaving on this appointment.