So… its taken me until now to get over the shock and aggrivation of the last Neurologist appointment.
I had to go and get the results from the last round of testing, so that was a nother reason for Davis and I to pile into little truck and take ourselves out to the hospital… I was scared, I told him that for some reason I just thought this was going to be bad. We get in and it takes a while to get called inside and wheen we get in I have to see a practicioner.
I love the women at that office, they’re all wonderful and always seem to know so much… so I told them whats been going on with me and with my hands and how many episodes I’ve had recently too. The woman told me what she thinks is going to be told to me… She’ll put me into Occupational therapy for my hands and there would be other medications and therapies for the rest of the problems with my brain.
So the lady leaves and I’m sitting on this table talking to Davis and trying not to freak out too much over all of this because I know thahe was not taking me off ts now what I’m going to be told… I know its not going to be anything that I want to hear…
So my doctor comes in, I’ve never met this guy before…but he comes in with the woman from before and a medical student … He told me when he was comming in that next time there would be 14 people in there with me… I didn’t like him.
The he told me that the tests came out normal and he thinks there’s nothing wrong with me, but he thinks that its psychological in nature and knows a good psychatrist he would like for me to see… and he wants to take me off the mirpex.
I was sitting there in horror. I said i don’t understand why this would be going on for so long… 11years… he said of course its possiable … i said i went to counceling from when i was 10 until 17 …he said if it wasn’t psychiatry of course it didn’t help.
but he said im kinda crazy… not sick… Davis looked about as heartbroken and upset as I was… and it was hard for me to keep myself under control… he had to keep telling me to stary calm when i wanted him to take the bracelet off of me…
so we left after that … the doctor gave me another bottle of mirapex because i asked for it and i was already loosnig control when we got to the parking deck… and i went into hysterics once we got back into little truck…
…so since then i’ve been fighting it. I keep telling myself I’m going to make it stop… I keep telling myself that I’m not insane and I can prove it without seeing some other quack. i just want to cry thinking about all of this because its so not fair….it just not fair… so… i’ve been trying so hard to make all of it stop… i just want it all to stop.
but according to this guy (and until I get another opinion) I’m just another wackjob … and I am not another wackjob