If you're following along...

And who isn't?

I live a very exciting life.

Anyway, if you've been paying attention, you will remember this recent visit to my doctor and the confusion I had afterward.

What you don't know is that I've called his office six? seven? times since trying to make sure they got all the paperwork they needed and did not have from the comp insurer, that I hand delivered a copy of my IME to them just a couple days after that disastrous visit, (stood in line for 10 minutes waiting to hand it to them) and have become more and more frustrated as my calls mostly weren't returned and when they were it was a different person every time and when I called to leave a message to ask someone to call me back I always got the 3rd degree and they wanted a detailed message and they kept wasting my damn time with that and then NO ONE CALLED ME BACK.

I did talk to Carole, my doctor's scheduler, on Tuesday afternoon. She was kind, listened to me, and promised to call me back on Wednesday.

She did not call.

So Wednesday afternoon around three, I called and asked if I could leave her a message. I identified myself and said something along the lines of 'I called yesterday and we talked and I'm just following up to see if she has any news for me.'

And Ms. Snippypants Bossybutt on the other end of the phone said in a superior manner, "But what message do you want me to leave for her?" as if I hadn't just given her one.

So I gave an audible sigh.
Said, "Okay. Here's the message. Ask her if it's now your policy to just keep putting people off until they give up and quit calling."

A pause. Then, in a much subdued tone, "I'll... give her the message."

It wasn't even two minutes before my cell phone rang. It was Aimee, my doctor's office nurse.

I explained everything to her. Again.

I am determined to continue working for the next seven weeks until school's out and my damn knee hurts.

I get that my doctor is a surgeon, and to him the knee isn't a problem until he's ready to cut it open and fix it. But *I* get to live with it for the next two months and for me it is a problem.

Of course we still haven't signed off on the shoulder and I'm not sure if I'm quite ready to deal with being on crutches anyway... sometimes my shoulder still hurts a bit.

But what's really hurting is my knee. It's waking me up at night. It pops. It is swollen. It's aggravating and I have resorted to taking pain medication twice in the last two weeks so that I can sleep on particularly bad nights.

I was sent to physical therapy for the knee before, and although I was skeptical, it actually worked. I was more or less pain free for quite some time. Despite doing my exercises and trying to keep it moving, it's just... ugly.

I asked to be sent to PT again. I want the knee as strong as possible before the surgery, and I need to be able to sleep and rest before then.

And I told her that what's left of my liver (after four solid months of pain medication and sporadic use of it since then) is probably lying in the bottom of my abdominal cavity, twitching helplessly and saying 'please! no more!'.

I also said that I could understand their reluctance if I were calling and asking for pain medication or visit after visit to annoy them, but all I wanted was PT...and added 'PT is no friggin' picnic, you know.'

I said that I'm not asking for anything that's not in my best interest and expressed confusion, aggravation and anger over the long wait between calls telling me NOTHING.

And she listened. And listened. And listened until I ran down.

I did try to keep my tone polite and friendly, but I made sure to tell her that I'm just... done.

That I'm frustrated with trying to get some help from them and tired of talking to a different person every other day when I call... and I have to be the one to call because no one is calling me back... well, I think she got the point.

She promised to call me back this morning (Thursday).

I wasn't holding my breath, but I was prepared to call them back, starting about noon... and every half hour after.

Despite my snark on my blog, I really don't start out grumpy. Not only does it piss people off and make them less likely to want to help, but I am going to be dealing with this clinic for at least another six months after the upcoming ordeal of knee surgery and I'd prefer friendly voices on the other end of the phone and smiling faces when I have to make my obligatory office visit every four weeks.

I'm sure calling every half hour would have made me quite popular. Not sure what the results would have been. I didn't have to find out because about 11:10, as I was leaving the grocery store, my cell phone rang.

It was Aimee. She said that she'd gotten everything clarified for me and that the doctor had signed a PT order for me to rehab the knee for a month, that we'll do an evaluation on the shoulder in a few weeks and that I'll need a new MRI on the knee, that the one he has is old and the definition poor.

Meaning that I don't get to go to Open MRI... I'll get two Valium and the Tube of Death instead, do not pass Go, do not collect $200.00.

But I got what I asked for, and I know that Shawn will do whatever he can over the next month or so to help me strengthen the knee and lessen the pain a bit.

I'll be driving half an hour from home to see him, though, since he's moving to a different clinic on Monday.

That's okay. Worth the drive.

Even a little relief will help. Just being able to sleep all night without waking up and saying OUCH would be a gift. I realize I have whined a lot about it, and you can stop reading any time, but if you look back at my blog a year ago, the same damn knee was hurting.

And I had surgery.
And it was recovering when I hurt it again.
And my knee has been hurting for a solid year.
So I'll whine a little if I want to, dammit.

But things are looking up. I at least got someone to listen.