You know when your doctor refers you to an orthopedic surgeon it is only for one thing. I must have been mentally blocking out the word.
I put it off as long as I could but my arm and neck were hurting, and so I finally relented and made the appointment. “You need to see an arm specialist,” said the appointment clerk, who apparently had a medical degree. “This doctor only does necks and backs.”
“I think the pain is coming from my neck,” I said, and then I played my trump, “I was referred to him by my medical doctor.”
I guess she didn’t want to match her degree against that of a real doctor, so she made the appointment. When I arrived, however, it was a doctor’s assistant who saw me. After questions, x-rays, and tapping my joints with a rubber mallet, she decided that I needed an MRI before seeing the real doctor.
I call an MRI the chamber of horrors. Needless to say, I’ve been in that machine before. I went to the appointment and dutifully allowed the technician to zap me like a wiener in the microwave.
The doctor’s office didn’t call me back, which was a good excuse not to follow up. Eventually, however, pain again drove me to make an appointment. Maybe this time I would actually see a doctor. The nurse came in and pulled up my MRI on the screen of a monitor. I waited for an eternity and finally the elusive orthopedist appeared.
He went straight to the monitor with the MRI like a moth to the light. Then he proceeded to explain what was wrong, sparing no details. I felt a little dizzy as he pointed out my all too obvious bone deficiencies and explained all the screws, saws, plates and bolts it would require to fix me.
“You don’t have any choice, you have to have surgery.” Oh, yeah, and you might have to chain me to the operating table, I thought.
“Your neck is about as bad as it can get.”
He went on and on telling me about the danger of operating so close to my spinal cord and what might happen without surgery. Even though the nurse had her back toward me as she took notes, I could see her cringe. I wonder if anyone ever fainted before or if I would be the first.
I really didn’t want to know what he was going to do it or how he was going to do it. When I fly on an airplane, I do not want to know how high we are going to fly, what our speed will be, or what we are flying over. I just want to know that we will end up landing safely in the city printed on the ticket.
He went on to tell me that it would actually require two operations to fix me, one from the back and one from the front. I imagined him flipping me over on the operating table like a pancake. He explained how he had been in practice for over 20 years. In fact, he had written papers and taught this procedure to medical students.
“That’s good.” I said. Really, Really Good, I thought.
“The hard part will be getting your insurance to approve it.” He then told me about another patient whose insurance would not approve surgery until he finally showed up in the emergency room unable to walk. I didn’t want to hear that either.
“How long will I be in the hospital?” I asked.
“Three days.”
He is going to cut off my head and reattach it and I will be in the hospital only three days? Well, maybe it will not be so bad after all. I just hope it gets it back on frontwards.
Copyright 2014 Sheila Moss
Humor Columnist Blog 
Excellent post. Witty and deep. Hope you are better now?
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They tell me I am fixed. I do still have this unexplained thing with my clavicle, which makes me suspicious. Thanks for your concern, though.
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I was given some “age related” problem reports from my doctors this last few weeks. You’re not alone . Osteoporosis, degenerative spinal discs lumbar region, degenerative spinal arthritis. Doesn’t seem they can do much. Some vitamin supplements and exercise routine. Pain meds are not something in which I care to engage. There won’t be any “getting better”. I have figured out a prayer approach. Mother passed at 88, dad at 97. I hope I can handle it as gracefully and as stoic as they did . They really suffered. Their courage was admirable. I hope I can do half as well.
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Sorry to hear that, Carl. I’m not sure if they can’t do anything or they figure we are not worth the trouble. Last consultation I had, the doctor said surgery might not make it better and could make it worse. Tylenol seems to help more than some of the pain meds they prescribe. My doctors keep retiring and my friends dying.
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Yes, just one Tylenol fixes me up for most of the day too . Many in my group of oldsters are avoiding cut nerves in spine surgery or metal pins and rods as too many nightmare stories are out there. The doctors are explaining good and/or possible bad outcomes then we make the decision. Now it becomes a “patient decision” signed relieving any liability for doctor unless of course obvious malpractice. Special exercises are reducing pain from 7/8 range to lesser 2/3 range so that’s big help.
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I know. By the time you finish reading and signing off on disclaimers and possible side effects, you wonder why they went to medical school. It seems the main thing they learned is how to avoid law suites.
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I can relate. My most recent adventure into the world of broken bones was a fractured humerous. I didn’t think it was humorous at all.
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With the unexpected ending, I question if this scenario is real.
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Yes, I took a bit of literary license on that ending for the sake of humor. Writers call it hyperbold. (deliberate and extreme exageration for the sake of effect) Sometimes topics such as this get a bit too heavy and it helps to lighten up. My philosopy is to tell truth unless the lie is so obvious that no one will believe it. When the name of the site is Humor Columnist, you can pretty much figure there might be hyperbold, satire, or just plain lies.
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BTW: It’s spelled hyperbole</strong – unless you’re intentionally misspelling it for comedy effect. It’s sometimes impossible to tell, with just text. As a writer, I felt that you might want to know. 🙂
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Thanks. Now let me know how many words I spelled correctly. I can wait. 🙂
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That was the only one I saw, from my elevated Pedant Platform. 😳 Plus my own missing closing caret behind ‘strong‘. Please edit and correct that for me. 🙄
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Yep, That’s why I wondered if you actually had surgery. I know they didn’t remove and reattach your head! Lol
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Copyrighted in 2014??! I’ll assume the surgery went well (enough). 🙂
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Yes, I lived. LOL I have a backlog of untold stories.
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I fell over sideways, landed on my elbow, (which I thought I broke) smashed the shoulder ball and had it replaced, and went through eight months of
terrorexcruciating rehab. I’ll bet that you have tales to tell. 🙂LikeLike
Well. that sounds awful. My son is going through something similar now. I’m now convinced rehab helps anyone but the doctors who own them.
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