Wednesday, September 29, 2010


I think that says everything about how I am feeling right now.

My appointment went horribly today. I'm hurting too much to go into any detail.

Suffice to say, I am done. I have nothing left in me. There is no fight left. There is no hope of ever feeling better. And there is nothing left to say.

I thank you all for reading this blog, sharing in my drama, venting with me, and most importantly, sending me your constant support and love.

I don't know what I am going to do but writing about nothing is better done by people named Seinfeld.

I am sad. I am in pain. And there's no point talking about it anymore.

If, at some point, I happen to cross over the rainbow and meet the man behind the curtain who just so happens to have what I need in a pocket of his worn overcoat, I might jot down a few words.

Fly and be free, friends.

Be good.
Be good to one another.
Live long...and prosper.

Friday, September 17, 2010

TACK: (n) a course of action or conduct, esp. one differing from some preceding or other course; one of the movements of a zigzag course on land; a course run against the wind

"Breaking all of the rules that would bend I began to find myself searching Searching for shelter again and again..."
Against the Wind, Bob Seger

Everyone gets to that point. The point where something slaps you awake and you realize that just saying "I'm sorry that doesn't work for me" just doesn't cut it.

I'm at that point. The point where I need to change my tack. In other words, I'm zig-zagging all over the damn place.

I've had a few really bad days. And sadly, for me, these increased pain levels came as a result of me making myself work in my studio, which by now, has startled to resemble a ghost town. I just need a few tumbleweeds to complete the look. I've ordered a few from IKEA. They'll be here in a few weeks. I hope they're easy to assemble. I know how those Dutch are though.

So, anyway, I made myself work and I got two pieces done.

If you'd like, you can see them here.
(You'll have to 'click' on the word 'here')

And for the record, all through my previous blog posts, starting some time back, I have hidden links to some other sites. Some of the links appear as underlined words. Some words appear darker than others. It depends on the link, I suppose. I'm not sure why, really, just look for something different I guess.

For instance, if you go back to my last post, I made mention there of giving someone a good slapping. There's a hidden link there that will take you to a youtube video of The 3 Stooges.

Some of these 'Easter eggs' are bits of information. There's only with The 3 Stooges though. While telling my story, I talk about a lot of medical procedures and thought I would supply relevant information pertaining to those treatments.

I'm the least technical person I know. I wouldn't even think about reading instructions, for let's say, "How To Assemble Solar Panels', so I'm not going to make you read them just to be able to tell you how I'm feeling.

Some are informative. Some are just simple little mental pallet cleansers.

I'm changing my tack.

I've gone outside my MCV discomfort zone. In my quest to find new eyes, a new perspective, I've contacted another hospital here in Richmond and also John Hopkins in Baltimore.

I do have an EMG scheduled in October at MCV. I will keep that appointment. If only to satisfy my curiosity. This will be the only sort of test that MCV has done.

Amazing isn't it?

They've told me exactly what is wrong with me but this is the first time they're going to be sticking a needle in me other than to take blood. This is the first action they've taken to figure out what is wrong with me. Usually I get to watch them stare at a screen and then wait three months to hear what they've decided.

Granted they are doing the test in October and making me wait til' November to tell me the results.

I swear doctors write for television.

Tune in NEXT SEASON to see if MacGyver survives the mine shaft collapse!

So. Say it with me...

"I'm sorry. That doesn't work for me."

Does it really take that long to read the results from an EMG? I'm asking. I don't know. I'm not a doctor. It's electronic. And computerized!

We're not talking the camera from The Flintstones here, where there's a bird inside carving a picture with it's beak! It's the year 2010! We've gone digital! For Pete's Sake! I CAN GET PHOTOS BACK FROM WALMART IN TWO DAYS!!

The EMG might be the one "AHA!!" test in which they finally admit that, "Yes. There is something seriously wrong with you. Sorry we had our heads in our asses for a year."

I'm not going to hold my breath though. I'm just going to remain optimistically skeptical. Kind of like my parents were the four years I was in high school.

and that's 'Jody' with a "y"

Friday, September 3, 2010


Okay. So today, for the first time, I heard it. Maybe because nowadays I am more attuned to what is being said to me in regards to medical treatment, or maybe it's just that my bullshit detector has become more sensitive. I'm like Peter Parker these days. My spider sense is tingling and I don't like what I am feeling...or hearing.

I called MCV today to find an orthopedic surgeon.

Let me give you a little background because the last time you read something I was going the non-traditional route with acupuncture and before that I had been seen by neurosurgery and neurology.

I have a theory based on a friend's health problems and experiences. My friend was experiencing almost identical symptoms as I and as it turned out, had a shattered disc in his neck. This disc was showing up as a ghost image (I know. Spooky right?) on his X-rays and MRI's. Once they actually went in and took a look they found very little of the actual disc left.

After three acupuncture sessions, this theory is becoming a little more probable. To me. If Dr. Wang has accomplished anything in these last three sessions, she has relieved some of the stress and pain in my shoulders and neck. Without this additional pain as a distraction, it is clearer TO ME from where the pain is radiating.

It's like getting rid of static on a radio and hearing the music loud and clear. And the music is coming through LOUD and CLEAR. Unfortunately, it's Yoko Ono singing In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida.

Yes. I still have headaches. I have a headache every day I wake up. Bad, ugly, kick-you-in-the-gut headaches. The pain, though, that horrible railroad spike at the base of my skull is there too and everyday it feels like John Henry is driving it home with a 75 lb. hammer.

It feels like bone pain. Bone pain like someone has a crochet needle in between my disc and they're digging into me...digging into me like they're trying to get a piece of corn out from between two back teeth.

Bone means discs. I'm no doctor, but that just makes sense to me and what else is making more and more sense to me is the whole shattered disc theory. Which is like the Lone Gunman Theory "Shattered Disc Theory" is nothing at all like "The Lone Gunman Theory" but my other choices were The Theory of Relativity, The Theory of Flight and The Chaos Theory, which I was going to use just because I love the way Jeff Goldblum says 'dinosaur' in Jurassic Park.

So, now I have a theory. I just need a doctor to either prove it or disprove it.

After some research I decided an orthopedic surgeon would be the best way to go. So I called down to my favorite place in the whole wide world, MCV.

And this dear reader, is where the start of my post picks up.

I called the Department of Orthopedics to share my Shattered Disc Theory and to ascertain who would be best to help me. Everything was going swimmingly. The girl, who might have said her name was Sparkle, was pleasant and helpful. She listened without interruption as I explained my problems. She even gave me the name of the doctor who could best help me.

Things were going so well!

Then she asked the question.

"And what type of insurance do you have, sir?"

Bom. Bom. Bommmmm!!

So I told her. I couldn't lie. They would find out. They would. They may not be great about helping you down there at MCV, but when it comes to payment, they're all over the situation.

There was a pause when I told her what type of insurance I had. A pause of two or three seconds. Then I got an answer I hadn't heard yet.

"Well, you are gonna have to get a referral. I can't just make an appointment for you sir."

Sparkle was beginning to lose a little of her twinkle.
Or maybe Twinkle was beginning to lose a little of her sparkle. That's neither here nor there.

This was the first time I've really experienced insurance prejudice. Obvious insurance prejudice.

And then it all became clear. I'd been such a fool. Such a blind fool thinking that there would be someone who would want to help me because that's why they chose this profession. It's why they're wearing the white coats and get to park closer to the building than anybody save the handicapped.

It is all about money and big business.

And because of the financial aid I am on, I am going to be doomed to live in pain.

Screw that.

Do they have any idea of who they are messing with here? No.

I can't change my insurance but I can stay on them Rosie O'Donell on a stack of pancakes.

If they give me any flack, I will tell they what I've been saying all along.

"I'm sorry. That doesn't work for me."

and that's Jody with a "y"