Wishful Thinking

Eight laser light treatments later with no improvement I was summarily dismissed from his care. I was advised to have an MRI of the lumbar spine and visit an Orthopedic Neurosurgeon. I concurred with this request the next week and was told everything looked fine. As puzzled as I was the doctor sent me back to my general internist who was also baffled. My left ankle and foot were swollen and cold so I was sent to a vascular surgeon who could find nothing wrong. My internist also recommended I see another Neurologist. Why not? Neurologist No. 2 read the report of Neurologist No. 1, looked at my left foot and agreed with the diagnosis. I was asked to have an MRI of the cerebral spine, just in case, and those results, too, were fine. Nothing wrong there either. On to a physical therapist with no improvement or so I thought. Back to Neurologist No. 2 who insisted the movement was better and a cure was sure to be imminent perhaps in a year's time. Right, I thought.

Now my unfailing humor was threatened, balance was worse, leg muscles were doing little dances up and down both legs. I would make up tunes to match their rhythm. Leg cramps were painful. Having a bath was impossible for fear of falling while trying to manipulate and force my leg to obey. Could all this be from the famous "footdrop"? No longer able to walk the dogs or clean our home properly I was forced to ask Bob for assistance with duties that should have been mine. Soon this left me feeling defeated and useless. Hiring a young woman to clean our home left me feeling guilt ridden and older than my sixty-five years. I was envious of Eileen's energy level but, oh, boy, could she clean. And soon I fell in love with the idea. The guilt I could live with.

I guess we are all guilty of fantasizing once in a while. My secret wish now was to have Doctor House and his excellent team from the television series work relentlessly on this mystery ailment of mine. Surely he could use his unorthodox methods and tactics to free me from this prison. A giant splinter in my toenail perhaps. Invisible to the naked eye? What next? Was my Maker testing my patience and fortitude? If so it was tiring and I mentally sent this message upstairs.

Ending my treatments with Dom was unthinkable as my accidents continued and left me in constant pain. Dom felt Nos. 1& 2 dropped the ball and were not thorough enough. He convinced me to take another shot with a woman Neurologist. I was resolute in my decision to just live with it as the saying goes but not so Dom. This was now a challenge and he was doggedly determined to seek an answer.

Neurologist No. 3 was a breath of fresh air. We had a lengthy conversation and proceeded to the testing. Both legs were included and although the needles placed in the muscles caused some pain and the electric shocks uncomfortable I squeaked through. She asked me the date and the month and several other questions which I answered with flying colors. Finally I was asked to spell the word "world". Suddenly I felt playful and answered w-h-i-r-l-e-d. A moment's pause and then I heard her laughter. Dom had chosen the right doctor for me I was sure. Perhaps a diagnosis was near. Or at least a pinpoint of light in the distance.

However, when the moment of truth arrived I was told my condition was a polyneuropathy, damage to more than one nerve. She was truthful but I felt there was something left unsaid. Would I mind seeing her mentor from her days of training and get his professional opinion. He was head of the neuroscience unit at a hospital in a nearby city. If this was a motor neuron condition he was the person to see. Professional courtesy prevailed and an appointment was made for the following week. I smiled at my good fortune. This renowned physician would probe,test,and question. All the loose ends would be tied together. Dare I hope to have an answer?