Knee Update #2
The office where I went yesterday to see a doctor, for the sole purpose of getting him to order the MRI the surgeon will need to look at before determining treatment of my undone left knee, was kind of seedy. Seeing the doctor was a flat rate of $80 cash, with or without insurance. (Unfortunately, I was considered to be without insurance with no proof yet of the policy I applied for.) I didn't know this before finding, not without first getting lost, this seedy establishment. When they said I had to pay cash, I thought that meant that I had to simply pay at the visit instead of getting billed. No, they meant cold hard green. I pulled out my credit card, which they said they did not have the machine for. Realizing what they meant by having to pay cash, I helplessly asked, "will you take a check?" I don't usually carry much cash. The lady at the front desk said she'd have to ask and went into the back for about five minutes. "Yeah, we'll take your check." What a relief! I had been about to cry because I thought I was going to have to leave, find an ATM and then maybe miss the deadline time the doctor was seeing patients--and it's such a pain to try to get around to begin with!!
Dr. Kassicieh's office was a revolving door with a parade of low-income and ailing patients marching through. He would call one in in a deep booming vioce and they would emerge 2-5 minutes later with a paper - an order for imaging (x-ray, CT, or MRI--like I would), a prescription slip, an informational sheet on nutrition, a couple extra band-aids for the road... I heard nasty coughs and sniffs, a reality TV show showing in the far corner of the lobby/waiting area and a whining toddler.
When my turn came to go into his office, before I said anything he says, "Snowboarding, right?" in an accent I could not place.
"Skiing," I corrected him. The woman from my church that suggested I go to see this guy because he could order an MRI, had spoken with him on my behalf the night before. He already knew that I just wanted an MRI order out of him and got the nurse on scheduling one right away. He briefly asked me what the deal with my knee was and then told me to go into the first open room down the hall.
I waited in the little room critiquing the bad paint job, rolling up my pant leg and bearing my puffy knee. I noticed that there were freebie things that advertise presciptions everywhere I turned. I waited for almost a half hour. I also noticed the doctor was speaking boisterously in the next room in a language I did not recognize. I understand a lot of Spanish and could probably tell if somebody was speaking French, or Italian--but this was something I was not familiar with. Perhaps something Eastern European or Middle Eastern. He did have kind of dark skin. Actually looking at his last name makes me wonder if it was Russian...
When he finally came in, he knelt down and started manipulating my knee. "Ouch, there's pain there." He didn't let up, he just grimaced as he pressed the outside of my knee and watched it bend in sideways. "Torn meniscus. The MRI will confirm it. It's a real simple surgery. You'll be up in a few hours after it. Now don't put weight on it until you see the surgeon. Who are you seeing?" "Tabet." "Oh, he's real good. You can trust his judgement. Now don't wrap that Ace so tight and keep your weight off that leg." (Ha. Yeah right. And stop living my life...) "Anything else?" "No." And he was gone.
The nurse came in and wrapped my leg back up for me. Then she gave me a map to the MRI place.
The MRI place was a totally different story. It was 8pm and Deb (who went with me) and I were the only people in the imaging center. After filling out some papers in the waiting room, a guy who was not dressed like a doctor or a nurse but in fairly trendy clothes called me in to the back.
I felt like I was stepping into a Sci-Fi movie. There were some more people dressed in the same way studying screens and pointing things out to each other. As I followed the technician into the MRI room I beheld a huge machine, white and clear blue plastic. It reminded me of the forst generation colored iMacs if you know them. It was making a noise that sounded like an ambient/techno beat. I actually thought it was music the technician was listening to until I realized it never let up and never varied.
"Do you need me to go in the other room while you take your pants off?" Trendy Tech asked me. "No, I have shorts underneath them." The room seemed sterile and shiny. I was impressed by the ceiling tiles that were replaced with a lit up screen depicting partly cloudy skies and tree branches as if they were hanging over the building and I was seeing up and out into a very pleasant day.
Once I was all fastened into the MRI machine, with headphones on with "What kind of music would you like during your MRI?" playing I was slid into the blue human sized tube up to my shoulders. A little placard, now in clear view: WARNING! Do not gaze directly into the laser! I was sure I was going to come out an Avatar.
A half hour later of trying to lay as still as possible, as ordered to do--trying not to laugh as my mind wandered tot hings that were comical-- a live voice came into the headphones. "You're all done, Laura! Your scan DVD to take with you is burning. Take your time getting your shoes and then we will show you out.
It was so interesting. If you have insurance an MRI costs $1600. If you are a self-pay patient, it costs $800. And I had just finished paying off that darn credit card, too.
Things are moving right along. Unfortunately, the job does not let up when my body has. That was the major frustration of today. My knee is sore. I was on it way more that I was supposed to have been...
More later.
Dr. Kassicieh's office was a revolving door with a parade of low-income and ailing patients marching through. He would call one in in a deep booming vioce and they would emerge 2-5 minutes later with a paper - an order for imaging (x-ray, CT, or MRI--like I would), a prescription slip, an informational sheet on nutrition, a couple extra band-aids for the road... I heard nasty coughs and sniffs, a reality TV show showing in the far corner of the lobby/waiting area and a whining toddler.
When my turn came to go into his office, before I said anything he says, "Snowboarding, right?" in an accent I could not place.
"Skiing," I corrected him. The woman from my church that suggested I go to see this guy because he could order an MRI, had spoken with him on my behalf the night before. He already knew that I just wanted an MRI order out of him and got the nurse on scheduling one right away. He briefly asked me what the deal with my knee was and then told me to go into the first open room down the hall.
I waited in the little room critiquing the bad paint job, rolling up my pant leg and bearing my puffy knee. I noticed that there were freebie things that advertise presciptions everywhere I turned. I waited for almost a half hour. I also noticed the doctor was speaking boisterously in the next room in a language I did not recognize. I understand a lot of Spanish and could probably tell if somebody was speaking French, or Italian--but this was something I was not familiar with. Perhaps something Eastern European or Middle Eastern. He did have kind of dark skin. Actually looking at his last name makes me wonder if it was Russian...
When he finally came in, he knelt down and started manipulating my knee. "Ouch, there's pain there." He didn't let up, he just grimaced as he pressed the outside of my knee and watched it bend in sideways. "Torn meniscus. The MRI will confirm it. It's a real simple surgery. You'll be up in a few hours after it. Now don't put weight on it until you see the surgeon. Who are you seeing?" "Tabet." "Oh, he's real good. You can trust his judgement. Now don't wrap that Ace so tight and keep your weight off that leg." (Ha. Yeah right. And stop living my life...) "Anything else?" "No." And he was gone.
The nurse came in and wrapped my leg back up for me. Then she gave me a map to the MRI place.
The MRI place was a totally different story. It was 8pm and Deb (who went with me) and I were the only people in the imaging center. After filling out some papers in the waiting room, a guy who was not dressed like a doctor or a nurse but in fairly trendy clothes called me in to the back.
I felt like I was stepping into a Sci-Fi movie. There were some more people dressed in the same way studying screens and pointing things out to each other. As I followed the technician into the MRI room I beheld a huge machine, white and clear blue plastic. It reminded me of the forst generation colored iMacs if you know them. It was making a noise that sounded like an ambient/techno beat. I actually thought it was music the technician was listening to until I realized it never let up and never varied.
"Do you need me to go in the other room while you take your pants off?" Trendy Tech asked me. "No, I have shorts underneath them." The room seemed sterile and shiny. I was impressed by the ceiling tiles that were replaced with a lit up screen depicting partly cloudy skies and tree branches as if they were hanging over the building and I was seeing up and out into a very pleasant day.
Once I was all fastened into the MRI machine, with headphones on with "What kind of music would you like during your MRI?" playing I was slid into the blue human sized tube up to my shoulders. A little placard, now in clear view: WARNING! Do not gaze directly into the laser! I was sure I was going to come out an Avatar.
A half hour later of trying to lay as still as possible, as ordered to do--trying not to laugh as my mind wandered tot hings that were comical-- a live voice came into the headphones. "You're all done, Laura! Your scan DVD to take with you is burning. Take your time getting your shoes and then we will show you out.
It was so interesting. If you have insurance an MRI costs $1600. If you are a self-pay patient, it costs $800. And I had just finished paying off that darn credit card, too.
Things are moving right along. Unfortunately, the job does not let up when my body has. That was the major frustration of today. My knee is sore. I was on it way more that I was supposed to have been...
More later.