My PCP insisted that I see a pain specialist. I called, made the appointment, found my arm all but twisted to making the appointment sooner, did so, went to see the pain specialist...and only once I'm there do I discover they usually only handle neck and back pain. I would have had no problem with this, except that I described the pain I was having while making the appointment, and instead of being told this was the wrong kind of doctor, I was told they could probably help. Essentially, I was lied to.
I have explained all to often that I have very little to do with my time. I spend countless hours in front of my computer, doing little more than playing computer games, occasionally writing. But getting out is always difficult because my feet will ache terribly when the journey ends. So why - WHY - was my time wasted like this?
This is one of those instances where I believe it was all done for love of money. The patient's well-being was of no consequence, so long as someone got paid. It's not the first time this has happened, and probably not the last. Recent events in my life, however, simply make this another reason for me to be angry.
The worst incident of a doctor chasing his income instead of treatment for me involved a urologist back in NY. I had a kidney stone that was 3 mm by 7 mm. Said stone was trying to pass through one of my inner pipes, which was only as wide as a very thin strand of spaghetti. It hurt a lot. Not A LOT...just "a lot." For two months, I had a few appointments with this urologist, even undergoing a test that involved some anesthesia so he could make sure there was no tearing/bleeding in my bladder. When I ran out of painkillers that helped me function between doctor visits, I would have to go to the emergency room for a dose of morphine and a new prescription. Each ER visit usually involved yet another CAT scan. Each scan showed the stone in the same place, the same size. Oddly, i seemed no one was in any kind of rush to complete the treatment I needed.
Over the span of two months, I saw this doctor three times, not including the exploratory procedure. There was also...two or three ER visits. And on my final visit to this doctor, he told me that the hospital he works at doesn't have the equipment he needs to remove the stone, and that I'll have to see a new urologist. This IDIOT knew from the start, when he saw a stone too big to go anywhere on its own, that I would need a procedure called lithotripsy. Rather than send me off to the proper doctor at the start, me made me endure the pain of that kidney stone for two months before admitting there was nothing he could actually do.
My conclusion is that he did it strictly for the money. He's a specialist. He gets even more money that a PCP. And so he took the insurance company for as much of a ride as possible, while I lived in constant pain for his greed. Once he reached the end of the line, he let me go, leaving me to start the process all over again with another specialist...
Or so he thought. You see, I was then referred to a specialist associated with one of the best hospitals on Long Island. When I called to make an appointment, I found out that the doctor had a direct link to the hospital computers. If the hospital did a CAT scan, the doctor would be able to pull it up at his office.
I'd been in enough pain over this thing for too long. I was not going to go through the process from scratch. So as the appointment approached, I went to the new hospital's ER and got treated for my pain, as well as having another CAT scan. When it came time to see the urologist, he was all set to order more tests. I told him to check my records on his computer, and there it was...the test results he was going to want, all ready and waiting for him. So instead of having to relive the lengthy process of testing, all he had to do was schedule the surgery.
And now you have some of the details from when I wrote about Lizzy.
So I'm in tremendous pain for no good reason right now. What I could have been told over the phone - that they couldn't help - apparently needed to be said to my face. Because if they told me this over the phone, they wouldn't be able to bill anyone. I would torture someone for this inconvenience, but my feet hurt too much, making it easy for potential victims to get away.