The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Its been an eventful week. For one, I went back to the neurosurgeon for more spinal injections. That visit went something like this:

"So do you hurt here?" Dr. presses sharply on my back. "As in, does it aggravate the pain?"

"Well that certainly doesn't feel good." I'm wincing.

"Yes, but does it aggravate it?"

"Um, yes? I mean it doesn't make the shooters come." I'm getting frustrated with this whole subjective pain scale anyway.

"Aggravation?" As if repeating it 3x will make it better.

"Yes."

Dr. decides to inject only 2 of the 3 sites that hurt. I don't get it.

"Could we do all three?" I ask as he's swabbing betadine all over my lower back and pelvis.

"No. I'm concerned about the level of steroids you've had already. That level messes up a lot of body functions."

"Yes, but it hurts and I just want to feel better. What happens if I come back for my follow up and I'm still hurting. Are we then doing surgery?"

"Are you pushing for surgery because if you are, then I'm not going to do it." (Did you catch the I'm-in-charge-and-you-can't-make-me line?)

"No, I can't see why anyone would push towards surgery. I just want to feel better. I don't care how it happens. Would we do more injections?"

"I see that you are emotional right now and frustrated. Medicine is an art and a science. Now my intuition, or the art part, is telling me only to do 2 of the 3 sites."

I could have pointed out that we were both arguing from emotional sides, but I decided to let it go. Later after the awful, awful sadistic injections, I was instructed to go sit in the waiting room of the cath lab. Since I cannot sit, I stood. In the waiting room there was a family who was waiting for their 87 year old mother who apparently had a heart attack and went down in front of a few family members. I stood there listening to their stories, trying not to be intrusive, when a nurse came by and said, "Honey, are you ok? You don't look so well." I couldn't respond because I passed out. Yup, I went down in front of the startled family thus re traumatizing them. The staff put me on a gurney, gave me juice and crackers, took my vital signs and asked where my responsible adult was who was taking me to and from the appointment. I responded that my husband could not get time off work so I just took a cab. Let me tell you the kind of lecture that followed. It was all very embarrassing. They made me lie there for awhile and then had me stand and then followed me out to the cab. Way too much drama and I still have a big question mark as to my plan of action with my back.

The second thing that happened was that I made it to school this weekend. Administration was highly accommodating and put a couch in the classroom for me. I had a great time. Exhausting, but great. The next class is about Self as Practitioner. There are a lot of assessments and understanding of styles and impact of it. It seems to be highly introspective so you could see my confusion when one of the assignments is for all 13 of us to work on a business plan for a consulting agency. Ummm, is it me or does that not meet the learning objectives? Somehow I became the mouthpiece for the class leading this revolution. The same thing happened 10 years ago when I was at Tulane and they took away choice of our professors when registering for classes. I was the voice for that one too. How is it that I end up in these stupid roles?

The third thing that happened was this morning and standing in line for 40 minutes in my pajamas to vote. The line wrapped around the school and I truly believe that history will be made today. It won't be the outcome that is historic for me, although it will be noteworthy that a minority (either racial or gender) will be in office, but it will be the record turn out. I've always had a passion for getting out the vote, or GOTV as they call it in poli sci circles. It makes me proud to see people actually caring. It also made me wish I kept my status in Indiana to vote there by absentee. However, even though it would have been legal, I wouldn't have felt very ethical about doing it.

And the fourth thing that will happen today is visiting the perinatal psychiatrists. Who would even dream that there is a speciality out there like this? Its a complete dream come true like believing in unicorns or something. I suppose living in the mecca of advancing medicine is like living in Oz and having little green men running around everywhere. If you dream it, it exists. Now, while it is a dream come true, I will not be visiting Glinda today but more like her sister. I have experienced zero compassion from them. Originally I had an appointment in early October, but J canceled it as I was in the hospital. They rescheduled it and then canceled only to reschedule to today. When I realized that J could not make it and getting down there for me would be a feat I tried to reschedule. They told me that if I couldn't make it they would never see me and deny rescheduling me ever. Even as I explained the circumstances of the rescheduling they were rigid beyond belief. I was within policy of the 24 hours and yet no leeway. Oh yeah, we're off to a raging great start with a therapeutic alliance that needs to happen between psychiatrists and patients. But, I will make it there and stand with my walker for my one hour intake assuming that they are on time, that is. I'll make sure my point is made. For their sakes, I hope I don't pass out.