Roadkill on the hard shoulder of the highway of liferl
Had review with my surgeon today. I am officailly not where I should be in terms of recovery and the outcome is 'disappointing'. He holds out hope that within a year it'll level out and improve but in the mean time, more tests. Some scans to check the hardware and its placement and then some nerve induction tests to check what sort of impulse is created at various points throughout the length of the nerve. Ive always wanted to be a physics experiment. Look ma, no electrodes.
It was yet another round of yelling and disappointment and near friggin tears just to see my surgeon. Back in January I was farmed out to an SpR despite having only agreed to the surgery on the basis of my new surgeon promising me that he would oversee everything and that this time around my experiecen would be nothing lke the first time and that he and his main SpR would always be available to me. Like fuck. After the Jan appt I rrequested to see main man. Was given an august appt with no promise of seeing him. Had melt down. Was assured, after PALS had to intervene, that todays appt was with my surgeon not an SpR. HA. but after ten minutes of deightful ugliness managed to get what Id been promised and managed to ensure I'd only be seen by my surgeon from here on in. I know that surgeons really couldnt give a shit after theyve sliced and diced-all they care about is the new patients- but he hasnt fixed me so he's damn well stuck with me until he has.
Why does it always have to be a fight? Just the thought of having to go back to that hospital makes me want to cry and become so nauseated i can barely stomach the car ride, all because I hate the place. I hate it. And the thought of having to go back, even for tests and scans, just fills me with dread. If, IF, there is something wrong with the hardware I may lose my mind. Theres only a 1-2% chance, but Im that special person that screws upfor the rest of the world-if theres a super rare side effect or condition you can bet your ass Im the bastard that gets it. even if it should be impossible due to age/sex/race. the joys of being a medical marvel. So tired.
Shall drown sorrow in carrot cake, and AA research for ridiculous SG-1 story and Due South 'research' (rewatching/drooling for those terribly important character quirkes. Perving, the lesser known writing necessity) with some dabbling in the Pratchett/Due South crossover. Not even going to try looking at the Top Gear/Firefly cross, I can just tell going to get nowhere with that at the moment. Not exactly like Ive being going great guns at it in the last couple of years.
It was yet another round of yelling and disappointment and near friggin tears just to see my surgeon. Back in January I was farmed out to an SpR despite having only agreed to the surgery on the basis of my new surgeon promising me that he would oversee everything and that this time around my experiecen would be nothing lke the first time and that he and his main SpR would always be available to me. Like fuck. After the Jan appt I rrequested to see main man. Was given an august appt with no promise of seeing him. Had melt down. Was assured, after PALS had to intervene, that todays appt was with my surgeon not an SpR. HA. but after ten minutes of deightful ugliness managed to get what Id been promised and managed to ensure I'd only be seen by my surgeon from here on in. I know that surgeons really couldnt give a shit after theyve sliced and diced-all they care about is the new patients- but he hasnt fixed me so he's damn well stuck with me until he has.
Why does it always have to be a fight? Just the thought of having to go back to that hospital makes me want to cry and become so nauseated i can barely stomach the car ride, all because I hate the place. I hate it. And the thought of having to go back, even for tests and scans, just fills me with dread. If, IF, there is something wrong with the hardware I may lose my mind. Theres only a 1-2% chance, but Im that special person that screws upfor the rest of the world-if theres a super rare side effect or condition you can bet your ass Im the bastard that gets it. even if it should be impossible due to age/sex/race. the joys of being a medical marvel. So tired.
Shall drown sorrow in carrot cake, and AA research for ridiculous SG-1 story and Due South 'research' (rewatching/drooling for those terribly important character quirkes. Perving, the lesser known writing necessity) with some dabbling in the Pratchett/Due South crossover. Not even going to try looking at the Top Gear/Firefly cross, I can just tell going to get nowhere with that at the moment. Not exactly like Ive being going great guns at it in the last couple of years.