The Disney Vacation commercial where the parents exclaim from bed that they are too excited to sleep came to mind Sunday night. And I'm not even sure my head touched the pillow Monday night.
I do know however that my boys left for camping, my mom came by, and a dear friend called me Monday. Did the boys pack proper? When did they leave? What did my mom need? What did we talk about? Did I call Angel back? Has the pup been out to potty?
My neuro appt. was for 1:15 Tuesday and I thought it would never get here. Research crowded the narrow space between my ears until I thought my head would explode. Try and stump me on a question about CCSVI, I dare ya!
I had rehearsed and ran through countless variations of how things would go vs. how I wished they would go, etc. Finally during the ride over (on which Jason didn't drive nearly fast enough for my liking), I had an aforementioned forehead smacking moment. Give it to God!
My mom cautioned not to be dissappointed. She and Jason warned against anger. Mad or not I needed refills. Hmmmpf! Bite me, I'd thought. I hoped biting wouldn't be neccessary and alas, $ used for bail may be needed to go overseas.
So we get there, and giving it to God, I decide just to let the appt. run its course. It could be my young doctor may even suggest this new found vascular cure to me. For the first time in days though still nervous, I felt a reassuring calm come over me. As I began to share this revelation with my hubby, Wham!
Jason warned, again, of my behavior. This time he told me not to storm out of here when the doc makes me mad because I need meds. WTF? I couldn't storm if my life depended on it. And what's with this 'when' he upsets me? Geeesh!
Enter the doc: "How are you doing?" he asked. Knowing there was not enough time in the day to answer him honestly I answered generically. He followed by checking my chart and asking if there'd been anything new since my last visit. What a great segway to this CCSVI phenomenon.
Silence followed with Jason and I sharing a glance amid hopefully raised eyebrows. Then doc broke the silence questioning of new exacerbations, etc. Strike one, I'd screamed in my inner dialog. "Nothin' new," I replied.
He continued that there wasn't anything really new on the drug front either. Another segway opportunity. Silence. Strike two! Then he left the room to see about a new med for fatigue. I'd imagine by this point Jason was wondering if my body had been taken over by some form of alien?!
I couldn't let there be a strike three so upon his return to the room while writing out orders for bloodwork I gripped the bat hard with, "Before we go can you tell us anything about CCSVI?" (Pause) "Oh, the drug?" he responded.
"No, the condition Dr. Zamboni from Italy has found may be the actual cause of MS?" I replied symbolically raring my bat back with all I had. A nano second of intimidation ran up my spine as he began explaining, he had indeed heard of it but was skeptical.
Blah, blah, blah. It was a heck of a curve ball headed at me but alas, SMACK, I swung hard and made contact. Jason said I kept my rantings together, made perfect sense and even made the doc smile at one point. Whether or not I hit a foul, a double or it went out of the park remains to be seen.
Could that be cheering I hear from the grandstand? (To Be Continued)