“This is stupid” is probably not the best thing to say at a doctor’s office, but after having gone through a painful physical examination where the sports medicine doctor had asked whether I stayed in bed for most of the day because of how poorly my body reacted to any sort of significant movement, that’s the only thing I could respond with after being told that he had not received any of my medical records.
I don’t yet know if the doctor is an A-Doctor or a B-Doctor.
He says he wants to help but he refuses to take ownership on certain matters of my physical health. He refused to refer me to another pain management doctor and he refused to sign an extension on the disability note that expires in a few days. If he refuses, and the spine doctor’s office refuses, then I will be likely to lose out on my insurance.
I hate the American Healthcare System and its politics.
I am writing this essay to summarize my experience as broadly as I can because I don’t have the energy to write much more now. The walk back to my car was difficult, I had trouble concentrating on the road through all of my pain, and I am left here, in my apartment, without many possible positive solutions to my spinal problem. I do have a two-week follow-up appointment.
The sports medicine doctor also did not receive any medical records.
I reached out to the spine doctor’s office to ask what happened. “Unfortunately, the disappointment is something that stems from the poor record routing at the [sports medicine doctor’s] office. Records were sent per their request long before your appointment. They are notorious for records not getting properly routed into patient’s charts.”
The email continued:
“I spoke with [someone] this morning and faxed your records again. To be honest, I check all my patient appointments for next day to make sure I have the records needed for all patient appointments so as not to waste the doctor’s or patient’s time.” This is such a dystopian situation that I’m finding it to be OK to begin to start calling it out for what it is in the moment.
My blood pressure was 130 this morning.
Last week, it was 140. At least this time, the nurse had stated that she would document the number, although this time, too, I was a bit sterner in stating that it was 140 last week, whereas normally it is around 110, and I asked that that be included in my notes. Let’s say my advocacy for my healthcare results in being refused further healthcare service.
Well, that’d just be my luck.
I will have to wait to see what happens. I will receive a call in the next few days about whether they will help with writing an extension note for my long-term disability. The sports medicine doctor refused to sign the note because he didn’t want to get involved with the situation, and said it was the spine doctor’s responsibility. So when I reached out to the spine doctor’s office, I asked for a new appointment with a new doctor because of this.
I was denied a new appointment unless it was necessary.
I explained that the reason why I was looking for an appointment was that the sports medicine doctor refused to be involved with the note. I was told before that the retiring spine doctor could not write a note for any further than his retirement, and another doctor would need to see me, then establish me as a new patient, before writing a note. All of this is an exhausting nightmare, added to the many other healthcare and non-healthcare responsibilities I have, along with having the physicality of a bed-ridden patient.
I feel like my health is rapidly declining.
I told the sports medicine doctor, after he told me that the spine surgery I had was mainly for leg pain rather than spine pain, that I did not feel much better after surgery. I don’t know what I can do. It feels like good health is slipping away from me. I am losing confidence in the healthcare system that is meant to support me. There is no relief from the constant pain I am experiencing and no sympathy from anyone throughout this entire process. I hate this. Perhaps it is my own fault for never having felt the magical touch of religion, throughout all the years I had spent growing up in and around a church, to never have felt a sense of acceptance by that community, to where now I must atone for the sins of being a non-believer.
I don’t think it’s that.
But these thoughts have been creeping in about life and whether I have become some sort of plague on the American Healthcare System that is like a criminal that must be punished. Everything hurts so much right now I can barely focus. I don’t have the energy to do much more than sit here, write the remainder of this essay, maybe watch something, and then sleep to hopefully relieve some of this pain. I don’t think I will. I think what will happen is what usually happens – I’ll stay awake, in terrible pain, until I lose consciousness.
I’ve been dreaming more lately.
Dreaming for me usually happens when my body is experiencing some sort of negative reaction to something physical or mental, and here, it’s probably trying to build up some sort of deeply realistic dreamscape to avoid the pain of doing everything from getting out of bed, standing up, sitting, or now even moving at an acceptable walking pace. For the pain I am enduring, I must have sinned in the biggest way imaginable. I must have been the single worst person in the history of humanity, for whom there is no respect, empathy, or salvation. I mean, I do honestly wish this feeling onto others.
But, like, just for about a week; not probably forever.
|Quotes:   Me.  My retired spine doctor’s assistance.|
|Sources: My personal experiences.|
|Inspirations: The events over the past few hours.|
|Related: Sober Living essays and Tripping On [The American Healthcare System] chapters.|
|Written On: 2020 November 11 [12:49pm to 11:16pm]|
|Last Edited: 2020 November 11 [First draft; final draft for the Internet.]|