Well crap on a monkey, whack him in the head, bake him, mix him with cream cheese and curry powder, spread him on a cracker, then crap on the cracker, too.
Dr. Ralph called today with the results of the MRI of my foot.
Want to know what they found?
A steaming pile of NOTHIN', that's what!
As far as anyone can see, there are no stress fractures, no neuromas, no horrible foot cancers, no alien implants, no nothin'. They do say there MIGHT be a slight edema in the tissue, but nothing that seems like it would cause the sort of pain I'm having in my foot. I was quietly livid, as well as a bit sick to my stomach. A) I'm pissed that after nearly four months I still don't know why my foot hurts nor does it seem likely that I'm gonna find out any time soon; and B) I dropped nearly $800 as a copay on that EFFing MRI, and had to jump through five weeks of physical therapy hoops just to have the chance to do it! And I still don't know how much the physical therapy is going to cost! AAARRRRGHH!!
"Well, that's how it goes sometimes," my wife told me.
"It's how it... ? But... Five weeks of... Eight Hundred... Mother f..."
Grrrrrr.
I've now had the afternoon to calm down about it, but I'm still smoldering somewhat. I'd best be careful, though, otherwise when I go in for my checkup with Dr. Ralph in the morning, my blood pressure will be up and put me back on meds for it.
To be continued, I guess.
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2 comments:
$800??!!?!?!!?!
That's exactly why I don't go to the doctor unless it's life threatening. That's 2 mortgage payments, or 4 car payments. No matter how you look at it that's some serious money on my side of the tracks.
I don't want to know what they are going to soak you for the Therapy.
I know. It's serious money on our side, too. That's why I'm sick over this. I'd have a good mind to kick somebody over it if I didn't think it would further damage my foot.
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