Because J’s twin brother K moved to New York City a few months ago, we took advantage of his offer to come play and spent a long weekend with him in Brooklyn. We had a good time, and other than the ice-pack-booby effect, the cold wasn’t even challenging (although we walked SO much that my legs are throbbing…but it felt good!). This was the first time where I made a decision not to let pain stop me, and stuck to it. That felt like an accomplishment.
We got there in the afternoon, but it felt like night time because we had been traveling all morning(DC2NY all the way –this bus was cheaper than the train and very comfortable despite the lack of leg room) and it gets dark so damn early! We ventured out to Sunset Park, where we were treated to a magical view of the skyline at sunset:
J and I had a few squabbles, so it wasn’t the perfect trip it could have been, but it’s mostly my fault, so I’ve got things to work on. Because we had no real plans, he and K basically took me on a gluten-free tour of NY. My favorite place was Risottoria — almost everything was gluten-free, and they had TIRAMISU and TRES LECHES CAKE!
We also went to the “Top of the Rock” at Rockefeller Center and got an amazing view of the city.
My Mom went with me to my MRI so that J could play softball (his only outlet, and dude time – I’d never ask him to miss it, even though he offered). My Mom is amazing, in case I haven’t mentioned it…she (and J, of course) is the reason I haven’t given up on myself or my journey to health. After driving from Baltimore and sitting through my long MRIs, she then took J and I to the Chipotle and wouldn’t even let us pay. She’s the best, seriously.
The MRI itself was miserable-over an hour in a dark metal tube-but they didn’t want contrast, and the tech was remarkably sweet for 4pm on a Sunday, so it wasn’t an entirely negative experience. I was praying that they’d see something – that they’d find the answer in these MRIs I had requested so long ago. Sigh.
I was patient, and waited until Tuesday morning to call (and then again a few more times for good measure) and some random nurse (not even the PA with whom I’ve been working!) calls me to tell me that they didn’t find anything. No one ever finds anything. I asked if there were any other ideas, or if I could consult with anyone else, and the nurse basically said that there wasn’t anything else She could do for me…
I got dumped by my pain doctor.
I have about 4 drafts that I haven’t posted, so bear with me as I probably will back-date a few of them in the coming days, but I had to post about this because it’s like the idiocy has come full circle:
Directly after my surgery (almost EIGHT months ago, I might add), I began seeing Dr. C for pain management. In our first visit, I asked if he could refer me for an MRI, to which he responded “nah, you don’t need an MRI”. After months of costly medications, physical therapy, trigger point injections, chiropractor visits, and even dietary restrictions… I go to him in what I would consider excruciating pain (comparable to month 3) and he acts confused as to what’s going on. I tell him my symptoms came back out of nowhere and we discuss options and now what am I getting on Sunday? An MRI.
It’s frustrating for two reasons: 1) This might have saved seven and a half months of agony, had he just humored me in the first place (even if it doesn’t end up showing anything) and 2) He has my pain symptoms – the SAME pain symptoms I’ve had since the drains were pulled – listed as “new symptoms”. I just want to scream when I look at these orders, because nothing has changed, nothing has helped, and damn it, I am TIRED. I am SORE. My brain is in a FOG (which isn’t helping at work right now!)… throwing more medication at me is no longer the answer. I just want to curl up and die every day when I get home – that is NOT acceptable any longer.
What do I want for my 30th birthday which is just a little over 2 months away? I want this either solved, or I want these puppies OUT. Whatever it takes – I want my life back.
Next update (that’s not back-dated) scheduled for after I hear about my MRI results (unless something juicy happens in the meantime). Dr C’s got some ‘splainin’ to do.