I went to the Neurologist again yesterday, and was disappointed with the visit, to tell the truth. I know he’s a busy man, because we purposefully picked the very best Neurologist we could get. But I feel like he’s so busy that this whole process of diagnosing is dragging on interminably, because the appointments are so far apart, and so little seems to be accomplished each time I see him. It’s that last part that has me disappointed.
He wanted us to get the full study from the doctor who did the EMG, so he could read through it. If his nurse had called us prior to yesterday’s visit, we could already have gotten it, and he could have had that already done. As it is, he still doesn’t know if he will want me to undergo that test again, so I’m feeling very frustrated. We went and got the report and brought it straight back to Dr. S’s office, and I have another appointment in two weeks.
He did say, after looking at the MRI that we had taken to him of my last lumbar vertebrae series, that he now agrees with the Orthopedic doctor that my Peripheral Neuropathy was not caused by my Degenerative Disk Disease. So, it’s not my brain, and it’s not my back.
He had a lot of blood tests done, and I have to do a 24 hour urine catch on Sunday/Monday and return the jug to the lab Monday. That’s to test for heavy metals, since we do live within a quarter of a mile of an EPA toxic waste site that’s cleaned up now, but we lived here many of the years the factory was in operation.
It’s looking more and more like he thinks I have Parkinson’s, even though I’m not exhibiting a lot of the typical symptoms.
Of course, I’m still holding out that it’s just from all the stress I’ve been under and still am under. I’m writing this post from my 101 year old Daddy’s house. He usually stays by himself, and I come in to fix breakfast and supper. Meals on Wheels brings lunch. We call him during the day, and that is usually enough, but he was awfully weak this morning and hurting in his back, so I’ve stayed with him today, and I’ll spend the night here.
This whole business of every step feeling like I was dragging my feet through molasses started sometime last October, but our DD was in the hospital then, and I was staying with her, so I put off doing anything about it until March. The epidurals the Orthopedic Dr. prescribed did a great job of getting rid of the pain, but the walking did not improve. So here I am, and it’s September, almost a year later, and I’m still wading through mud with every step. Let’s just say my patience is wearing pretty thin.