Some Docs Are Just Quacks...

Today was a rough day. I've had hearing issues - tinnitus, sensitivity to noise, fullness in my ears, and vertigo for a few weeks now. About two weeks ago, I made an appointment with an ENT who was recommended by my Primary Care doc. Today was appointment day, and I was ready for some answers, and some help. Unfortunately, that didn't happen. In fact, it was, quite possibly, the worst 2 hours of the week.

I'll spare you the 6 page essay that I COULD write on the giant 2-hour waste of my day; instead, you get the cliffnotes:

I showed up at 12:30 for my 12:50 appointment - exactly 20 minutes prior, like a good patient. I had already pre-registered online, so I only had a few forms to fill out and sign...you know, forms like "We really have no idea how many things we might try to charge you for, so just sign this paper saying we can bill you for whatever we want basically...plus an extra $500...yeah, that should do it."

I was the only patient. Literally. For like, 15 minutes, until the next few patients came in. During that time, my appointment slot came and went. Yet there I sat. As the only patient. Finally, around 1:00, the cranky-faced Audiologist, who we'll call "Sue," came and took me back for my hearing test. Sue wasn't what we'll call "warm and inviting" at first, but I think we managed to coax a smile out of her once or twice. I mean, I'm sure it's tough dealing with kind, polite, tiny, brown-haired patients who do whatever you tell them to and use their very best manners at all times. That's got to be THE WORST.

Hearing test went well - no hearing loss, thankfully, and my ear drums responded the way they're supposed to respond when they tested the pressure. I was really thankful for that good news, trust me.

The Audiologist then took me to the exam room, where I was to wait for the doctor. About 10 minutes after sitting there, the most miserable looking woman, who I'll call "Olga," stormed into the room and stated with authority, "I'm-Olga-Dr. Bramhall's-Assistant-and-I-need-to-get-information-before-you-see-the-doctor." Then sat down at her little desk and turned her back to me while she typed furiously on her computer. Olga was scary. Corey and I remarked, jokingly, about how the exam room looked like a dentist's office..because it TOTALLY DID, ya'll!! It had one of those reclining chairs, and a table full of scary looking tools, bright lights, and then a very strange chair rail trim that only went around 2/3 of the room...really strange. Kind of like they just gave up, really. Got half-way through putting up trim, ran out, and just didn't feel like buying more - so they stopped. Anyway, here's how our exchange with Olga went down: Corey says, laughing, "This kind of looks like a dentist's office.." I laugh, but Olga just says, "No." (Translated to mean: "You're both a couple of morons and I hate this job and I can't believe I didn't run away with that Russian model when I was in grad school instead of getting stuck in this exam room with the shoddy chair rail job.")

Well, Olga finally finished her line of questioning, and we may have even been able to get a couple pseudo-smiles out of her. I'm sure she went back to sulking at her desk when she left, but I guess something's better than nothing.

After she left, we sat in the "not-a-dentist's-office" room for another 30 minutes, until I heard Olga and Dr. Dumbbell talking outside the room. Loudly.

Olga: "She's saying she has hearing distortion and noise sensitivity."
Dr. DB: "But no hearing loss?"
Olga: "No...no hearing loss. But hearing distortion and noise sensitivity."

Dr. Dumbbell walks in with Olga, who sits down and starts typing angrily at the computer again while he talks. First words out of his mouth: "You brought your husband? Or your DAD?" Not even kidding, people. I think he thought it was funny, but it was just really awkward. The next comment wasn't any better: "So, I guess there's really no way of knowing what this is. I just don't know." (He made THAT bold statement before his ass even hit the chair.)

The rest of the appointment was a blur after that statement...he did a couple tests for positional vertigo, and they were normal, even though the tests made me nauseous. I told him they made me nauseous, and he said, "Oh. I didn't know they were going to make you nauseous." Ummmm...they're vertigo tests. For someone WITH vertigo. Vertigo causes nausea. Soooo....yeah.

Basically, it ended with this: He had no idea what was wrong, couldn't give me any solutions, didn't have any idea what meds he'd even prescribe for it, and didn't know where to direct me from there. He and Olga looked at me and said "You just have to either figure out how to live with it, or just avoid what causes it," and then they both nodded in my face knowingly, like psychotic fraternal twins from a Steven King movie. I kept expecting blood to start seeping out of their eyes or maybe Olga to start climbing backwards up the wall, next to the chair rail that never got finished.

As Dr. DB left the room, he turned and said, "It's the first day of the rest of your life!" and I resisted the urge to crotch-kick him and tell him that he was one more stupid one-liner away from today being the ACTUAL last day of his life.

Corey and I parted ways in the parking lot, so I could go back to work and he could go pick up Lily...and it was all I could do to not cry on the way to my car.

It wasn't just the disappointment of not getting any answers...it was the realization, yet again, that I am stuck with a disease that is continually attacking my body, and there really isn't much that modern medicine can do to make it better. They can try, but those medicines will kick your ass with side effects at times. They can give us DMDs that will (hopefully) give our bodies something of a fighting chance in slowing down disease progression. Sometimes, they can give us steroids to help kick sudden or worsening flares to the curb...and sometimes, they'll actually work.

And as positive as I try to stay, there are days when the shit from this disease gets me down, ya'll...like seriously down. Today was one of those days. It's actually STILL one of those days right now. But it has helped to write it all out, and I hope you not only get a glimpse into the frustrations of what we deal with as MSers, but that you'll maybe even get a few laughs out of it.

Here's to a better day tomorrow...