Regret

The orthopedist was brisk and bright and professional, and told me in no uncertain terms that he didn't think any of my pain was from an orthopedic injury (thank god?) but that it was more than likely all from my neck. I told him I was seeing a neurologist in two hours, and he asked if I was seeing someone in his practice. I told him no, and fished the ream of printed forms out of my bag to catch the name of the guy I was seeing. The orthopedist hmm'd, but would not say more, but left me with the names of three other neurologists, including one in his own practice.

But he was kind, and he said (probably noticing the wide eyes and the dampness at the edge of my mask) that I was going to be okay, and that I would get better. I cried a lot while he was printing out those alternate referrals. Was it the early hour? The prednisone? Was it just finally having someone who knew what the fuck was happening? I don't know. But it was a nice bulwark against what came next.

I expected it really. The ream of poorly photocopied forms was a clue.

When I walked in to the neurologists office, an 8x8 space stuffed with chairs, there were already four people present. And although I'd filled out literally every form in advance and hand carried my CD with the MRIs, the check in process was as painful as possible. Insanely unprofessional. I was then left in an exam room for 45 minutes - more than long enough to note the slovenly and utterly unhygenic surroundings.

The doctor, when he arrived, looked bored or drunk or possibly both. And although he'd had, presumably, 45 minutes to look at my file and MRIs, he asked me a bunch of vague and demanding questions, including if I was married, then with a noise of disgust told me to put on the paper gowns for the exam. I've never seen a more shambolic excuse of an exam. He was bored, he was just going through the motions, he literally tossed the exam implements on the table once he'd used them, then picked up my clothes to sit on the chair closer to the exam table and tell me that he was recommending an epidural but that at some point I was going to need surgery.

I could not nope out of there hard enough. By the afternoon I had one more appointment (Monday) and a new referral for someone in a more professional organization, to try to find out what my options are. So, that's a few days I've lost, but I also feel a lot more in control of what's going on.

The chiropractor yesterday was also helpful - she said that the MRI photos I showed were definitely bad, but not even the worst she'd seen. So there's pain still, but there's also hope. And now I mostly am filled with regret for not paying more attention to posture in all these years at the computer.