Horrified (for Something Happened Somewhere Turning)

I made a mental promise to Something Happened Somewhere Turning after reading one of his posts about being horrified at a doctor's office.

I immediately thought of the time I went to see my back specialist for the second time and how that might make him feel a little better after his ordeal.

I've been putting it off though because it's really not something that should be repeated, but since I admitted yesterday that I have a snuggie - well, it's clear that I don't own any shame to speak of, so what the hell.

After a huge fight of convincing everyone necessary that there was something seriously wrong, I finally got heard.

I have no idea why no one ever believes when I say that something is deadly serious; when I say it is.

This may be a product of being too self-contained. I would probably fare much better if I went and had a complete and utter meltdown in the middle of some lobby instead of doing what comes natural and holding it all in and trying to appear like it's all under control.

I'll do my part and not throw any hysterics at you and you do your part, which is filling a prescription with enough high level doses of sedatives and pain killers to kill a horse - followed by you searching for a pair of pliers so you can just go in and yank out a disk in my spine while I stand here, quietly.

There is zero guess work involved with what I just proposed.

Don't worry about me either! I will just stand here, take the shot in the spine, down the drugs and won't appear any different to anyone. I promise not to hit you either when you plunge the pliers into my back and pluck out whatever offending disk that's causing irritation in my life.

Whatever.
I'll heal.

My primary doctor didn't believe me.

I went 10 days without any pain medication and almost went insane. Then one day, my spine electrocuted me, literally - it was like having someone take a cattle prod to your spine. I couldn't believe it.

It took every ounce of indignance I owned just to get up off the floor - and that took FOREVER. I was the only one home. I should never, never, never give up my rage. It's a survival skill, no matter what anyone says.

Phenomenal pain CAN place you square on the brink of insanity.
It's not pretty.

When I finally got my appointment, my primary doctor was still unconvinced. She wasn't convinced that something might be wrong until she stood behind me and pushed on my spine. I saw stars and I threatened to hit her if she ever did that again.

totally true story

I said it in a matter of fact tone, but she did take a step back, so she obviously believed me - as she should have.

I got sent for X-rays and a MRI.

The MRI tech was horrified that this was happening to me at my, then, age (36).

I tried to con him into giving me the results, which would have been against the law for him to do - and I knew that, so I didn't push.

The next day my primary called to tell me that I had a ruptured disk and that I was losing fluid in the last four disks of my spine and eventually I'd have bone rubbing up against bone.

Gee, thanks - and?
CAN I HAVE THE PAIN MEDICATION NOW?!
Christ.

Really, who would have ever thought that there was a problem? Just disregard the fact that I CAN'T WALK... or stand... or sit... or lay down... or the fact that I have second degree burns on my back from living on the heating pad because it's the only speck of relief that exists... my back looked like I laid across an open charcoal grill. It took four months to heal and I didn't care!

So, I got referred to a back specialist.

I went to the appointment. He told me to stop bungee jumping and vacuuming and we were instant friends.

as if I'd ever bungee jump - which he knew on sight

He opened up a safety pin and stabbed me in the legs.
I just stared at him waiting for an explanation.

Me: "Did you just stab me?"
Dr. B: "Yes, sorry. I'm checking for nerve damage."
Me: "You went to medical school for this?"

He laughed.
I knew I liked him.

Dr. B: "I saw your MRI and your X-rays. You have Degenerative Disk Disease. Want me to cut you open?"
Me: "Tell me everything."

He did.

I decided to try to save all of my disks for as long as possible after hearing that he would have to fuse my vertebrae together and I'd lose mobility.

Me: "I think I'll try to wait until they come out with something better."
Dr. B: "Okay, what drugs do you want?"
Me: "Ones that work would be nice."
Dr B: "Try these and I'll see you in 6 weeks."

I still have leftovers from that visit - 6 years later.
I don't particularly like pain killers or muscle relaxers or taking anything, really.

My 6 week visit rolled around. I thought it would be much like the last one. He has all the information he needs. I took my shower and got dressed in whatever was closest to me at the time.

This consisted of a thong, a bra, loose pants and a sweater.
Whatever, right?

I'm just going to sit there anyway and he's going to stab me again and I'm getting refills and he can charge my insurance company whatever he wants. We're all happy.

That's what I thought.

Then the nurse came in and told me I had to change into a gown.
Fine.
Except getting dressed and undressed what a feat in patience and pain, so it took me forever.

Dr. B comes in and I'm sitting on the table and then he says the fated words, "Okay, I need you to stand up"

Me: "Why?"
Dr. B: "Because I need to SEE your spine alignment."

Okay, mind you - like the snuggie, the gown opens in the back.

Me: "Let me get this straight. You want me to stand in front of you with the back of this gown open, so you can check out my spine."
Dr. B: "Actually, I'm going to put my hands on your hips while standing behind you and then I need you to bend over so I can see the bones in your spine and how they align."

blink
Right.

My mind is in overdrive and I'm trying to figure out a graceful way of telling him that I'm in a thong and I didn't think today's visit was going to go like this and... and... and...

...and when I think too long about something, instead of being graceful, I either say nothing or say EXACTLY what I'm thinking - without censor.

He helped me off the table and there I am standing in front of him in all my horrified glory. He put his hands on my hips and I just stood there doing nothing, but staring at the wall in front of me.

Dr. B: "I need you to bend."
yeah, I heard you the second time...
Me: "I know."
Dr. B: "Today..."

This was not motivating to me.

That's when I turned around, grabbed the front of his shirt in both fists for balance and said...

Me: "What's your first name?"
Dr. B: "What?"
Me: "Your first name! I need to know your first name!"
Dr. B: "Why?"
Me: "Because anyone that gets to see me in this position has to be on a first name basis with me!"

He lost it.
Completely.

And that's how I met Robert.

So, see, Something Happened Somewhere Turning - it could be worse... at least you never had to bend over in front of some guy wearing a thong...