Gathering Courage
We face the unknown today.
After spending the past three weeks or so fighting to gather all Hubby’s medical records, MRI films, etcetera and to get him an appointment with a new neurologist, we’re preparing to head off for the elusive consultation this morning. Both of us are skeptical, hopeful, and worried about what he’ll find all at once.
I suppose skepticism is somewhat normal. After being burned, it becomes hard to trust someone else, and his last neurologist burned us badly. You’d think a patient who has had more seizures in the past eighteen months than the sixteen years between the accident and the originating seizure just over a year ago would warrant some type of action. Apparently this is not the case. In the past year and a half the only tests run on Hubby’s behalf were ordered by physicians in the E.R. and summarily ignored by his former neurologist, who would do nothing in the follow up visit but treat poor Hubby like a moron, write a script for a larger dose of his medication, and shoo him out of the office.
However, I hear the gentleman we’re going to see this morning is both competent and extremely thorough. This leads to hopeful. We’re hopeful a cause will be found. We’re hopeful this cause will have a treatment, and we’ll be freed from living with a constant, nagging fear in the back of our minds. We’re hopeful Hubby will be able to return to doing many of the things he loves, which are currently just too dangerous for him to participate in under the risk of having another seizure in the midst of them.
But we’re talking about the complex workings of the central nervous system here. Aside from medication, there will be no simple fix. We know this. The severity of it isn’t lost on us, and we’re worried.
Yet ignorance is not bliss. Knowledge is needed before action, and without action there cannot be change. So we’ll gather our courage and trudge out to face the unknown today.
Comment
After spending the past three weeks or so fighting to gather all Hubby’s medical records, MRI films, etcetera and to get him an appointment with a new neurologist, we’re preparing to head off for the elusive consultation this morning. Both of us are skeptical, hopeful, and worried about what he’ll find all at once.
I suppose skepticism is somewhat normal. After being burned, it becomes hard to trust someone else, and his last neurologist burned us badly. You’d think a patient who has had more seizures in the past eighteen months than the sixteen years between the accident and the originating seizure just over a year ago would warrant some type of action. Apparently this is not the case. In the past year and a half the only tests run on Hubby’s behalf were ordered by physicians in the E.R. and summarily ignored by his former neurologist, who would do nothing in the follow up visit but treat poor Hubby like a moron, write a script for a larger dose of his medication, and shoo him out of the office.
However, I hear the gentleman we’re going to see this morning is both competent and extremely thorough. This leads to hopeful. We’re hopeful a cause will be found. We’re hopeful this cause will have a treatment, and we’ll be freed from living with a constant, nagging fear in the back of our minds. We’re hopeful Hubby will be able to return to doing many of the things he loves, which are currently just too dangerous for him to participate in under the risk of having another seizure in the midst of them.
But we’re talking about the complex workings of the central nervous system here. Aside from medication, there will be no simple fix. We know this. The severity of it isn’t lost on us, and we’re worried.
Yet ignorance is not bliss. Knowledge is needed before action, and without action there cannot be change. So we’ll gather our courage and trudge out to face the unknown today.
Comment