2016 seems to be my year.
It’s my year- – – for specialists.
A few months ago, I started having pain in my right side. Right where my kidney is. The kidney that I had to have surgery on in 2001, and thought I’d never have trouble with again.
And here I am, having troubles.
So, I packed my happy ass off to my regular doctor, & told her all about it. She ordered the usual suspects – blood tests, urinalysis, and an ultrasound.
Some results pointed at a possible issue, but it’s not kidney stones, so she didn’t know what it could be.
Whoopee. Time to swing out the big guns.
Monday, I went to see Herr Doktor – and wound up seeing Herr Doktor’s Nurse Practitioner instead. We’ll call him “Precious”.
Why? Because I had to wait a freaking month just to get in to see a Nurse Practitioner, for one.
Two? Because Precious didn’t even do an exam! He talked to me, asked me where it hurts, what makes it better, what makes it worse, blah, blah ,blippity blah.
He didn’t even have me get on the exam table so he could do the usual prod & test of the offending area.
He sat on his little rolling stool, legs crossed, and talked to me as though I am some kind of hysterical, hypochondriac female.
And when I told him my history – how I’d been through testing before my surgery – 5 FUCKING YEARS OF TESTING, with the exact same pain I’m experiencing now, same place, same batchannel, same bat time – you know what he told me?!?
No, you don’t, because it was so far out from left field, I couldn’t believe it when he said it!
“I think it’s musculoskeletal “.
AND, he can’t schedule any additional testing, he has to make a recommendation to the urologist.
Precious little got accomplished at this visit, but you can bet it’s going to cost me a precious penny or 12.
When did it become impossible to actually SEE a doctor?
When did it become a mine field of obstacles, nurses, automated phone systems & “nurse practitioners ” surrounding the Precious Doctors like a Wall of Doom?!?
All I want is someone to fucking listen to me, to believe me when I tell them that, after going through 5 years of pain, and every test known to man and his dog, then surgery… that MAYBE, JUST MAYBE I KNOW MY BODY PRETTY FUCKING WELL?!?
Oh yeah, and I had to go to an Endodontist today to have a root canal redone. The guy was pretty cool, actually, & is Donny & Marie Osmond’s nephew.
And all it took was $1000.00 out of my pocket after my insurance paid their part.
But he’s got a nice tenor voice, and a good sense of humor, so there’s that.