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| Illustration by Brian Stauffer @staufferstudio |
November 2017 the pain in my neck had become unbearable. The pain seemed to radiate down the left side of my neck to my shoulder and to my arm. I remembered having a herniated or bulging disc in my neck from years ago and thought that must be it. An old problem is rearing its ugly head. I wondered if biotechnology had caught up and performed cervical disc replacements yet. After searching on the internet, not only did I find it, I also found a local doctor that could perform it, but first I needed to know if I was a candidate. The doctor in question was from (what I heard was) a private, physician-owned hospital. How can I go wrong when the surgeons not only perform the surgeries but also own the hospital? I thought it was a win-win.
My first appointment was an assessment (of course), so X-rays were taken immediately and I was taken to an examination room to wait for the doctor. To my surprise, a doctor didn't walk in. A Physician Assistant was the individual who did the pre-assessment before you are even seen by a doctor. The PA seemed to be able to determine whether or not I had a problem that was worthy of the doctor's time. Thankfully, I did.
I met the doctor (who we'll call "Dr. Nive"). Dr. Nive was kind and cordial. After reviewing the x-rays, he briefly examed my cervical spine movements as well as the strength and function of my upper extremities while I answered his questions regarding my pain. By looking at the x-rays, he could definitely tell I had something going on but he would need an MRI to be sure. I believe the phrase he used was, "slight impingement", however, by the description of pain and discomfort that I relayed to him, he felt I'd do well with physical therapy but suggested a steroid injection prior to attempting physical therapy. Dr. Nive thought my case was best suited for another colleague, so my follow up appointment after the injection procedure was going to be with a different physician (who we'll call "Dr. Zo"). I was scheduled for the procedure before I even left the office. "How efficient.", I thought. The day of the procedure I met Dr. Zo and he comforted me by assuring me that I would feel great after the procedure.
I had my follow-up with Dr. Zo and when I told him the injection didn't work, he seemed almost apathetic at the fact that it wasn't successful, but I thought maybe it was my imagination. Maybe. After reviewing my MRI, Dr. Zo then prescribed physical therapy. The physical therapy location was conveniently 5 minutes from my home and the physical therapist was awesome, but something wasn't right. I faithfully went to every single appointment and did every exercise I was told to do but the pain kept increasing. The physical therapist halted my appointments and suggested I make an appointment with my doctor immediately. Back to Dr. Zo I go and this time he suggested I try something called, "dry needling". It has now been 4 months since my initial appointment with Dr. Nive and at this point I'm miserable and my pain is at its worst, but he wants me to try dry needling? It sounds like acupuncture to me, but I'll try anything if it decreases my pain.
Something strange happened before I got to my first dry needling appointment. My left shoulder literally stopped functioning. I tried to reach for something out of my refrigerator and my body didn't comply with my brain. By now, the pain has increased, I'm using ice, heat and Tiger Balm to try to decrease the pain because I have no medication that is working. It feels like my muscles are continuously spasming and my hands are painful as well. My hands were hurting so badly that one day, I actually woke up with my palms up and in the air (as if I was under arrest). My husband said he saw it and was wondering what was going on with me. So, I go to the first dry needling appointment and I'm almost in tears. I'm hoping it will be my saving grace but it's not. By the second dry needling appointment I can't lift my left shoulder, the therapist can clearly see that I'm in pain and again, my appointments are halted. I schedule an appointment to see Dr. Zo.
My husband has to take me to the appointment with Dr. Zo because I can't drive. The pain is horrible but I'm trying to bear it in the hope that Dr. Zo will prescribe some type of medication that will relieve me of the pain. At this point, I'm not even caring about what the source of the pain is, I just want to be out of pain...period! When Dr. Zo enters the examination room, he appears almost irritated that I've returned. "So, what's going on?" was the first thing he said. I explained about the increase in pain, I explained that my left shoulder was functioning and he never rose from the rolling stool to examine me. I only heard, "I don't know what to tell you.", "I can't determine why you're in pain.", "All I can do is recommend you go to a rheumatologist." My husband is visibly livid and asked, "Can you at least give her a pain killer to last until she gets to the rheumatologist?" Dr. Zo's response was, "I can't do it. I won't." Since Dr. Zo couldn't determine why I was in pain, he obviously didn't believe I was in pain, therefore, he would not write a prescription for anything. I walked out of the room almost in tears, my husband was livid and thankfully, the administrative staff that gave me the document recommending a rheumatologist was kind and apologetic.
On the drive home, my husband and I were angry and in utter disbelief. We couldn't fathom why Dr. Zo didn't believe me, he didn't examine me when I told him my shoulder wasn't functioning, I was denied any kind of medication and we would be dismissed with nothing but a rheumatology referral. I suddenly remembered a viral video with a guy saying that physicians believe Black women less when they talk about the symptoms they're having. Did that just happen to me? I spoke with my oldest sister (who is like another Mother) and told her what just happened. She told me I needed to go to the hospital. I don't know why, but I thought I'd be able to get an appointment with the rheumatologist and everything would be fine. I tried to convince myself that everything would be fine but I knew something was wrong.
The next day I made an appointment with the first rheumatologist with the earliest appointment available and that still meant my appointment was a week away. One day around noon, I decided I'd get dressed. Attempting to do the smallest things seemed difficult but when I got to my pants and couldn't pull them up...that was it. Why was I bearing this pain? What was I trying to prove? I called my husband at work and asked him to take me to the ER when he got home. He agreed. Thirty minutes later I heard his vehicle entering the garage. When I mentioned wanting to go to the ER, he wasn't waiting. Thank God my husband didn't wait, because I was worse off than we thought.
Continued on "The Chronic Pain Chronicles, Part 9".
