Of Doctors and Denial

Do you ever get the feeling that your doctor just doesn't want to deal with your problem? I did something to my knee shortly after Evie was born. Now, it doesn't sound like anything, I know. My feet were on a footstool covered with an afghan. I turned my right foot 90° (from straight up to pointing right) and my right knee exploded in pain. That's it - no great stress, no fall, etc.

Now, this was in May and I'll grant you, I should've gone to the doctor before this but going to the doctor is such a pain (remember, I have to haul a 3 year old and an infant with me) and, honestly, I figured it would get better. And it did. A little. But then it got worse. Then a little better, then a little worse. Then I had a bunch of stairs to climb for church a couple weeks ago and it's been bad since then. So I finally hauled my ass in.

She poked it, said she didn't think anything was broken and asked who my insurance company was. Then made a face. Seems my insurance company doesn't like to pay for MRIs. So she sent me for an x-ray. Which was kind of interesting as it's all digital and I haven't had that kind of x-ray in 20 years. But nothing's broken. What shows of the joint on the x-rays "looks good".

So I ask about an MRI. I get referred by the nurse to the receptionist who "handles" that sort of thing. She doesn't answer; I leave a message. Haven't heard diddly back.

Kind of don't expect to.

Meanwhile, my knee has me hobbling like a little ol' lady. Makes going up and down the stairs with an infant kind of interesting.

Oh, but one good thing, I was (finally) able to reschedule the mammogram they wouldn't let me do on the 16th because I had Evie with me. Given the family history, not something I ought to be missing.