McH called. He just had an appointment with a neurosurgeon following yesterday’s MRI.
This was the first MRI he’s had since the surgery on his back last year. Have I told you about the lack of follow up with that neurosurgeon? I mean, granted, we did move very soon after the surgery, but McH tried to get an appointment with him anyway. It never happened.
Can we say, “Less than stellar office staff?”
When he scheduled the appointment with the new neuro, he called the former neuro’s office to have his records sent to the new guy. Makes sense, right? They sent the billing codes. Period.
Can we say, “Downright sucky office staff?”
Yes, I knew we could. We could probably add some four-letter expletive-type words as well, if we were swearing people.
So McH saw the new neurosurgeon last week with nothing other than his own personal dvd copy of his pre-surgery MRI and his tale of pain and woe from this past year. Okay, really? Not so much on the woe. He’s not the woeful type; but pain, yes. Lots of pain.
*Cue Music of Gloom and Doom*
Dr. New Guy looked at the MRI and told him his life was basically over. No bending, twisting, or lifting, he said. You can’t pick up your son, he said. You can’t throw the tennis ball for your dog, he said. You have degeneration in other discs, have probably re-herniated the disc you had surgery on, and have probably herniated another disk as well, he said.
Dr. New Guy ordered a new, post-surgery MRI and today McH went to see him with those results in hand, prepared to hear further Gloom and Doom and then make an appointment with The Big Clinic for a second opinion.
*Cue Angelic Music of Hope and Restoration*
Dr. New Guy told him he can do whatever the hell he wants (ooo, sometimes we are swearing people). All of your discs are fine, he said. Except for the one they operated on last year, he said. That one? You don’t need any new surgery on it like I thought, he said, because Dr. Former Guy took the WHOLE THING out.
Now see, we had been told that the piece that had herniated and ruptured, the piece that was kinda floating around where it shouldn’t be, putting all kinds of dangerous pressure on his sciatic nerve, was the part that was being removed. Nobody ever mentioned removing the whole disc. Nobody ever told us the whole disc had been removed.
Actually, directly after the surgery, Dr. Former Guy came out, told me it all went well, and said we’d just have to keep an eye on his back from now on because there would always be some weakness or deficit or something like that. Then he put on his coat and left. the. hospital., which set the nurses and hospital staff all in a tizzy because the guy had another patient all prepped and waiting for him in surgery.
Can we say “God complex?” Yes we can, and this guy had it big-time; but I guess that’s what happens when you’re the neurosurgeon on call whenever the President of the United States is in town.
So, is it a good thing that McH has no disc there? Well, obviously not ideal. But all of his other discs are healthy, there is no need for more surgery, and Dr. New Guy gave him some prescriptions to help with the pain. Since McH has noticed a direct correlation between stress and intensity of the pain, the Dr. gave him some kind of muscle relaxant or something and told him he could try bio-feedback and maybe an anti-depressant to take an edge off the stress.
I think if he’d just learn how to do yoga in a relaxed fashion that would help. Have you ever seen someone do yoga intensely? I have, and my guess is that it’s rather counter-productive.
McH thinks a nightly regimen of the muscle relaxant followed by sex should do the trick.
The trick! Ha ha! Just call me Spooky Bayside*
And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt says hello.
*To find your hooker name, combine the name of your first pet and the name of the street you grew up on.