Yesterday's Doctor's Appointment
Yesterday, I finally had my appointment with the Well-Accesessoried Doctor (yesterday's accessory: a gorgeous silver bracelet, perhaps of Navajo design or influence). She took one look at me and knew what was going on. "The TN again? How do you feel?" I told her I had slipped into the seventh ring of hell. I was that despondent.
The whole appointment, I was struggling with the pain and trying desperately not to cry. If there is anything in this world I hate, it's crying in front of anyone. It took me years before I felt comfortable crying in front of my husband, and I still prefer to cry alone or in the shower if at all possible. The crying in the shower thing started when I was younger and had to share a bedroom with my sister. Only in the shower, did I have any privacy. It's a habit I've never really broken...if I am very upset, I take a shower.
Many people might think the crying thing is out of pride, or a matter of image. I think it's more about my father's attitude towards crying when I was growing up. He absolutely could not tolerate it, for any reason. "Stop that crying or I'll give you something to cry about!" was one of his favorite axioms. Even as a child, I remember thinking that this was a load of horseshit. Beating a kid because they cry is NOT going to get them to stop crying...it'll make them cry more, and make them feel as if no one cares about their feelings.
It's backfired on me before, though, this difficulty with crying. I have had people, when I was younger, not believe me when I would talk of difficult things I had been through (although that in itself was rare), because of the calm, almost detached way I'd speak of it. No tears. I recall one incident quite clearly: one night, when I lived with a bunch of friends in East Dayton, I was attacked in a parking garage. I narrowly escaped being raped. I went to the police, but never felt that they believed me. I later found out that my roommates didn't believe me, either...because I went straight to the shower and never cried. They didn't know me well enough to know that I went straight to the shower TO cry.
And in recent years, I've found that many doctors are unwilling to believe my level of pain is as bad as it is because I'm not weeping hysterically, like most other people would be in their estimation. They don't realize that I cry later, when I'm alone.
Back to yesterday's appointment. A few very good things came out it:
1) She agreed to look into the transdermal patch option, and photocopied the article I brought her from the Trigimenial Neuralgia Association newsletter. It may not be an option for me...but I had to at least try.
2) I told her what happened at the hospital with Dr. Otherwise. She took my letter and told me she would talk to Dr. Otherwise and definately look into this. She also re-affirmed that I am indeed supposed to call the on-call doctor before going into the ER during the weekend or off-hours, and that I am perfectly within my rights (and reasonable to boot) to ask the on-call doctor to call the ER and let them know I am coming and why.
3) I got a shot of Morphine & Phenergan....which STOPPED THE PAIN! HALLELUJAH! Within minutes I felt like a normal person again...just a very, very tired normal person. I got something to eat, and slept for hours.
4) She also gave me a prescription for 30 more Oxycodone. I just pray I can make it til the end of the month with those. I thank God she gave them to me.
So for now, I'm as stable with the pain as I can be. Thank God Almighty for the Well-Accessoried Doctor!