This may very well end up being a tattoo one day. Love it.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Silver Linings.
Sooooo lately I've been feeling kind of down. Not for any reasons specifically, but my health certainly does not help. I'm not exactly in a constant state of sadness and irritability, but my downs have been a little more frequent lately than I'd like. I find what usually works best in these situations is a good night's sleep, some sort of retail therapy, and giving a big middle finger to the Debbie Downer in me by coming up with a list of silver linings in my life. These are my top five.
Why MS Is NOT The Most Terrible, Awful, No Good, Very Bad Thing Ever:
1.) Higher probability of developing a really convincing zombie lurch/pimp limp/pirate swagger
2.) Eligible for medical marijuana if my states legislation ever gets their shit together
3.) MRI appointments make for really good nap time
4.) Extra fire under my ass to not fuck around and let things hold me back from doing what I want to do
5.) Tons of people walk, bike, raise money, extract stem cells from aborted fetuses, conduct research, and collect data every year to help find ways to slow down and/or cure MS. At some point, something's gotta give, right?
Why MS Is NOT The Most Terrible, Awful, No Good, Very Bad Thing Ever:
1.) Higher probability of developing a really convincing zombie lurch/pimp limp/pirate swagger
2.) Eligible for medical marijuana if my states legislation ever gets their shit together
3.) MRI appointments make for really good nap time
4.) Extra fire under my ass to not fuck around and let things hold me back from doing what I want to do
5.) Tons of people walk, bike, raise money, extract stem cells from aborted fetuses, conduct research, and collect data every year to help find ways to slow down and/or cure MS. At some point, something's gotta give, right?
Paging Dr. Hottie
Along with my little visit to the MRI tube, my primary care physician also referred me to a neurologist. I was really really excited to find out that his office was right by where I work, and also excited to find out he was the most attractive doctor I've ever been to.
EXHIBIT A.
His examination consists of checking my reflexes, checking for weakness, and sticking me with the sharp/dull end of a pin to see if I can tell which end is which. He orders more MRIs, and an EMG test, which consists of poking me with acupuncture needles and administering small electric shocks to m my legs, which would have been a jolly good time, had it been performed by Dr. Hottie. Instead I got the scruffy and rather ancient EMG specialist in the office.
His initial diagnosis was transverse myelitis, which is basically a fancy name for an inflammation in the spinal cord. It can be caused by a number of things, including shots, viruses, and of course multiple sclerosis.
I went and got my MRI done of my thoracic and cervical spine, and since I needed to do it with and without the contrast dye shot, I couldn't do my brain as well. I sent the results to Dr. Hottie and waited and waited to hear anything. During this time I also received a phone call from my primary care doctor in which she mentioned that the report on my lumbar MRI included a cyst on my spinal cord (it was benign, but it was something which Dr. Hottie neglected to inform me about) By this time my numbness had dissipated as well as my faith in Dr. Hottie, and I called him asking if I really needed a brain MRI. He went on about "abnormalities in white matter in my cervical spine" and other things I didn't understand. So I complied with his request for a brain MRI.
I show up for my follow up, and he takes me back in the office, doesn't ask for my MRI discs, nor does he even have my file on him. He sits me down and tells me that there is evidence of the same abnormalities in my brain as there were in my spinal cord and that it is sufficient evidence of multiple sclerosis. He then hands me a hefty stack (roughly a bookbag full) of literature on the disease and treatments, tells me to read up on all of them and choose one, and sends me on my way.
I hop in my car and just scream, "WHAT THE FUCK."
Dearest Dr. Hottie,
1.) If there are abnormalities in my brain and spinal cord, you better damn well show them to me.
2.) If you're diagnosing someone with MS, explain more about MS besides "no one dies from it"
3.) The last thing I want to do after a heavy diagnosis is fucking homework
4.) The literature all talks shit about every other treatment, so how am I supposed to know what is what? You're the fucking doctor, and I'm pretty sure it's a big part of your job to dole out the scrips, not my job to choose what I'm prescribed.
It's a terrible, uneasy feeling to leave a doctor's office with a hundred thousand questions in your head regarding your condition. Needless to say I didn't schedule a follow up.
EXHIBIT A.
His examination consists of checking my reflexes, checking for weakness, and sticking me with the sharp/dull end of a pin to see if I can tell which end is which. He orders more MRIs, and an EMG test, which consists of poking me with acupuncture needles and administering small electric shocks to m my legs, which would have been a jolly good time, had it been performed by Dr. Hottie. Instead I got the scruffy and rather ancient EMG specialist in the office.
His initial diagnosis was transverse myelitis, which is basically a fancy name for an inflammation in the spinal cord. It can be caused by a number of things, including shots, viruses, and of course multiple sclerosis.
I went and got my MRI done of my thoracic and cervical spine, and since I needed to do it with and without the contrast dye shot, I couldn't do my brain as well. I sent the results to Dr. Hottie and waited and waited to hear anything. During this time I also received a phone call from my primary care doctor in which she mentioned that the report on my lumbar MRI included a cyst on my spinal cord (it was benign, but it was something which Dr. Hottie neglected to inform me about) By this time my numbness had dissipated as well as my faith in Dr. Hottie, and I called him asking if I really needed a brain MRI. He went on about "abnormalities in white matter in my cervical spine" and other things I didn't understand. So I complied with his request for a brain MRI.
I show up for my follow up, and he takes me back in the office, doesn't ask for my MRI discs, nor does he even have my file on him. He sits me down and tells me that there is evidence of the same abnormalities in my brain as there were in my spinal cord and that it is sufficient evidence of multiple sclerosis. He then hands me a hefty stack (roughly a bookbag full) of literature on the disease and treatments, tells me to read up on all of them and choose one, and sends me on my way.
I hop in my car and just scream, "WHAT THE FUCK."
Dearest Dr. Hottie,
1.) If there are abnormalities in my brain and spinal cord, you better damn well show them to me.
2.) If you're diagnosing someone with MS, explain more about MS besides "no one dies from it"
3.) The last thing I want to do after a heavy diagnosis is fucking homework
4.) The literature all talks shit about every other treatment, so how am I supposed to know what is what? You're the fucking doctor, and I'm pretty sure it's a big part of your job to dole out the scrips, not my job to choose what I'm prescribed.
It's a terrible, uneasy feeling to leave a doctor's office with a hundred thousand questions in your head regarding your condition. Needless to say I didn't schedule a follow up.
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