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Wednesday 31 October 2007

Don't pee on my leg & tell me it's raining!

Well, I just completed a huge waste of my time and a 2 hr interval of my life I'll never get back.

Bear in mind that this all began last December when I first reported my wrist pain to the doctor I was seeing, and he did his own little 'test' and bent my thumb down to my wrist (which hurt like hell) and said there was "extensive damage"... immediately referring me to a specialist. And so it goes:

...first being referred to the wrong surgeon... finally to the right surgeon who then referred me to a neurologist for nerve tests before recommending surgery...to a wait to see the neurologist...to a real appointment with the neurologist...to a cancellation of this real appointment....finally today, I had my official 'nerve tests', after my regular doctor pulled the string along and they "squeezed me in". They shot me up with electricity through both of my arms, wrists and hands to test whatever they need to test ...and the doctor looked at me with the same sympathetic face as one would give a "special" person, claiming the tests were 'basically normal'. So I questioned him on the constant pain I feel in my right hand/wrist, and the numbness that is now the norm in my last 3 fingers on that hand, and he basically told me that I was in control and that I have to make the necessary life adjustments to work through it. Can someone set me up with an appointment for Dr. McDreamy, please?

After the nerve tests I then had to continue to wait to have blood drawn for some blood tests my doctor ordered regarding the constant heartburn thing I've been experiencing, and then I paid my $3 for 'visiting' the hospital and rushed to work. The whole thing upsets me...I hate going to the hospital in the first place...since everything about it reminds me of Dad...the sights, the sounds, the smell....even the Commissionaire's badge when I was paying my parking dues....especially after he greeted me with, "hello young lady", so kind, just like my Dad would have said if he was in the Commissionaire's booth.

So I sit here, in my lonely little place, not wanting to be where I am at all...preferring to be ANYWHERE else, sad, frustrated, still in pain with my wrist, feeling helpless because now there doesn't appear to be a 'fix' out there for me. My arms feel heavy and sore and it's an effort to pull them up to type (I assume from the electrodes) ...and it's Halloween, and my co-workers are bringing in their cute little costumed-kids inside to trick or treat, and I just want the floor to swallow me up.

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