Relax! No New is Good News

I had my MRI in early June.

My doctor, Maria de Jesus, had told me she'd see me after my MRI and EEG were completed.

The EEG wasn't scheduled until July 16, so I figured it was likely that I wouldn't hear about my MRI until the not-yet-scheduled appointment later in the summer.

The exception would be, of course, if they saw something dramatically wrong. From what I read online, people are called immediately if they have a tumor. If you don't hear anything the evening of your MRI or a day or two after, you're probably tumor free.

I wasn't quite sure about serious problems that were less extreme. For example: MS. I imagined the doctor might call about that. Yet I also imagined they might decide to wait for all the tests; then give me the full picture. The former seems more kind, responsible, and reasonable, but I don't expect doctors and medical facilities to have those qualities.

Weeks passed. Then I had my EEG. Though I had expected to have my appointment and the results of all tests soon after that ordeal; I was told it would take 2-3 weeks to read the results.AND my appointment wasn't scheduled until August 13—about 3.5 weeks after the EEG.

Doctor de Jesus called exactly two weeks after the EEG to tell me she saw seizure activity. She left a message saying she wanted to put me on medication and that I should call back for an appointment. This was on Thursday afternoon.

I called back DFW Neurology as soon as I got the message. No one answered. I left a message. They didn't call me back. I left an email on Friday morning and Tim called for me in the afternoon. Still, they did not call back.

Tim called again on Monday and finally reached them.

I don't know. Should it be that hard to speak to someone at a doctor's office after you've been given a phone message about having seizures?

Anyway....

So...Wednesday I had my appointment.

And okay, as for the MRI, one thing I imagined is that there might be something that SEEMED insignificant on my MRI, initially. But now that seizures were in the picture, it might be less insignificant than previously believed.

I thought it was possible that the doctor still wouldn't see it as significant despite the seizures. So my plan was to ask for the MRI report, so I could read it myself.

After a frustrating discussion about my seizures (which I'm not in the mood to talk about now. Maybe in the future?), I asked about my MRI. Dr. de Jesus started looking at her notes and said she never received it.

I wasn't shocked and angry because I've heard these things happen. I've heard that you shouldn't follow the mantra that no news is good news.

The doctor assured us that we would be called when they got a hold of the report.

Soon after the appointment, she called.

I can't give an accurate report of what she said, because it's a blur to me.

I got off the phone with the idea that my brain is small—smaller than it should be for a person in their 50's...but oh wait. You're even younger than that, aren't you?

From what I (sort of) understood, my brain is the size of an elderly person's. BUT this wouldn't cause symptoms, and the doctor is not concerned.

So I shouldn't consider that my small brain and seizures could be connected?

Then an hour or so later after Googling shrinking brains, and seeing things like dementia, I started (maybe remembering) that the doctor has said something about my brain being big. I think that's how she started out, because I vaguely remember thinking, hydrocephalous!?

So it went from big to small? Or was it never small? Was it always big? But then why would I think small? What is wrong with me?!!! Why can't I remember a simple phone conversation.

I Googled larger-than-normal brains (outside of hydrocephalous) and found something about autistic boys having larger brains.

I then figured that my brain must be small not big. Because if I had a male-autistic brain, I could replay the phone conversation verbatim in my head. It would take a small, on-the-verge-of-dementia brain, that would get off the phone with the doctor and be thinking, Wait. What did she say? My brain is small? Big? Big and small? What the hell did the doctor tell me? 

And, sorry. I know I'm falling on autistic-stereotypes. It was pretty much just a joke.

 If there's ever a time to need dark humor, this is one of them.

Tim suggested it was not my brain size that made me confused. It was my heightened emotions. I agreed with him about that.

Well...anyway. Dr. de Jesus told me not to worry about my brain. But I'm not feeling at all trusting of this doctor, so her words aren't exactly reassuring.

The other thing is, I soon started getting angry about the MRI.

My feeling is that it would be different if I called a week or so after the MRI, asked about my results, and the office told me they never received them. Unfortunately I do expect to be just a number to the doctor's office. I don't imagine them waiting around thinking, I'm sure concerned about Dina. I'm eager to see her results. Let's look out for those. Oh wait. Why haven't we gotten them yet?

I expect that when I leave that doctor's appointment, I'm soon forgotten.

I don't like that. I wish doctors truly cared about their patients. I wish that they DID think about us every-so-often once we've left the building. But I accept the reality.

What I don't accept is that Doctor de Jesus did not glance over my MRI results and EEG before my appointment last week. Simple pre-appointment preparation!!!!!!!  I don't think that's asking too much. But no. She didn't know my MRI results were missing until I asked about them.

How could she look over my EEG results and not ask herself, so did the MRI show anything unusual?  

And how much time did she spend looking at the EEG? Three seconds? Do I even have epilepsy?

I have another appointment on Wednesday. I'd like to imagine I'm having this appointment, because Dr. de Jesus cares and wants to make sure I'm doing okay on my medication. But it's probably more likely that the doctor wants more money from me...and our insurance company.

I emailed a list of questions about my EEG that I want answered, because the doctor was very cagey when we asked questions last time.

I'll see how the appointment goes.  There's a tiny chance, that there will be a great, happy change in the plot. The doctor might say things that make me feel more relaxed, trusting, and forgiving.

But in the chance that this doesn't happen, I'm going to start naming and shaming.  Because medical practices should NOT be able to get away with this shit. (And that I did, which included going back and re-editing my posts to include the naming and shaming 9/9/18)



For more on this: My Nightmare Adventures with a Fort Worth Neurology Practice  




How would our world change if we knew for sure there was life after death, and it was easy for our dearly-departed to talk to us via the Internet?   

The Dead are Online, a novel by Dina Roberts