Two weeks ago Connie went to get her second opinion on the foot wound. This place was a sister clinic to the one where she had her hyperbaric treatments, and the doctor there was highly recommended by her favorite nurse. Connie wanted to go in without telling this doctor anything about her foot. He came into the cubicle without reading her chart. It went downhill from there.
The doctor wanted to know why Connie had peripheral neuropathy. When Connie told him she had been diagnosed years ago with heavy metals he began shooting out questions. Connie got defensive. She began giving him biting answers. He got defensive. Eventually he decided she needed tons of tests to determine why she had neuropathy and why she got the charcot foot. He told his nurse to put on a contact cast. I tried to explain that we had been there done that and it hadn't worked. At that point I told him about the Foot God and the surgery. He said he would defer to the God. He ordered on the contact cast.
We should have held up our hands and said, "Stop!" We didn't. Connie cried. I tried to process all of it in my head. I was annoyed at the crying. I wanted her to buck up and think things through. The clinic was closing for the day and Connie was one of the last patients of the day so the nurse began putting on the contact cast. There really wasn't time to step back and assess.
And here is where helping one's parent gets difficult. I am happy to take charge for the most part and direct and ask questions and say, "Stop!", but Connie is still very much in charge of her mental state and her health. She wants help, but she doesn't want to relinquish everything into someone else's care. While she isn't able to process things as fast as she once was able to, today's medical care is moving at warp speed and no one wants to take the time to let patients digest information. Doctors want to get paid and to make that happen they have to see as many patients in a day as they can fit in. This doctor, like the Foot God, was at the clinic in addition to his own practice. Connie had an idea what she wanted, and when he didn't deliver, she got flabbergasted and discombobulated. I tried to intervene, but she was still processing and halted me. Bottom line: she got the contact cast against her wishes.
We got back to her house and within twenty minutes we were at the hospital having it removed. The cast hadn't been put on right where she could walk comfortably and the nurse hadn't known about the swelling that Connie's legs and ankles do at night. We took our special removal instructions as the cast isn't like a normal cast and went to the ER where they removed the cast and sent us home within an hour and a half. By that time we both had calmed down and talked things through, and agreed we need to learn to put a stop to things when we feel overwhelmed. We called and made an appointment with the Foot God intending to have the surgery.
In the meantime, the clinic where Connie's favorite nurse worked was working on a crow's foot cast for Connie that would offset her weight and allow her to stand a bit on her foot. It is very much like the contact cast, and unfortunately like the cast she sweats a lot in it and moistens the wound. She got the crow's foot only the day before our visit to the Foot God, but in that waiting period between doctor's the wound had stopped tunneling. The home health care nurse was thrilled.
After the wound doctor appointment we had an appointment with the infectious disease doctor. We both love her so much we could just follow her around all day and listen to her talk. She is Indian and beautiful and so caring Connie cries every time she sees her. She sat and listened to the entire story of the wound doctor, and when we were finished she shook her head. She agreed with the Foot God. The point was taking care of the wound, not going back in time, and doing unnecessary tests to determine something that had been determined long ago. And usually peripheral neuropathy is unexplainable anyway so going through all of that was just crazy. She has worked with the Foot God, never had a problem, all her patients speak highly of him, and he wheels around the parking lot in his little sports car. We laughed and told her we tell him all the time that Connie has paid for that car. We left there happy to have a plan.
The Foot God came into the room and first off made a joke that Connie
and I didn't even recognize because it was so against his personality.
By the time we realized he was being funny, he had rolled off another
funny. We relaxed. He apparently wasn't going to bring up the second
opinion. He was trying to be funny. We were home again. I
love the Foot God.
He had received a letter from the infectious disease doctor AND had read it all. He proved it when Connie questioned him by reciting the letter and then pulled it up on his computer. We gave him lots of prop for that. Working on that personality...
The Foot God was happy with the non tunneling. He was so happy with that and the new crow's foot he opted to let her go another two weeks before talking about surgery again. In this case, surgery being a big deal, we didn't need to think things through. I'm not so certain that two weeks will make any difference, but then I'm not the expert in podiatry (and I don't play like I am in my scrubs).
So we sit and wait again for two weeks.
1 comment:
Oh My!
Love the new background by the way.
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