Ha! The extra exercise worked

It's important to keep the right balance
It’s important to keep the right balance

So, yesterday, I exercised twice — once in the morning, and again later in the afternoon at work. There’s an aerobics room at the gym at work, and it’s walled with mirrors. That’s exactly what I need, so when I’m doing some movement, I can work on my form and be mindful of how my body is actually positioned as I move it.

I picked up a lot of bad posture and positioning habits when I was younger, and that’s cost me valuable time later in life when I pulled or strained muscles, due to bad form. And then I had to sit out for a while, till they got better. And by the time they got better, I had forgotten about doing them at all. And I lost more time, till I got inspired to do them again.

So, keeping myself in good form is important. And I had the chance yesterday afternoon to spend about 20 minutes moving and watching myself move, making sure I wasn’t moving in ways that strained my back and hips and knees, and all the other connections that have given me trouble over the years.

I didn’t spend a ton of time on it, yesterday, but it was enough to wake me up, and also give me a bit more of a workout. I had been planning on getting an extra exercise session in, when I got home from work. But to tell the truth, I’ve got to make supper, and I’m so done with the day, by that point, that I just want to make supper, talk to my spouse, and chill out.

So, exercising for 30 minutes during the day is really a good option for me. It breaks up my afternoon, and it also wakes me up.

And last night I went to bed by 10:00 and I woke up close to 7:00 a.m. — nearly 9 hours of continuous sleep. Amazing. Just amazing. I’m still feeling a bit fuzzy and groggy this morning, but the fact that I got that much sleep makes it all the better.

Plus, this afternoon, I have no meetings, so I can do it again. I moved a little bit this morning, to work on my balance, and also get a sense for where my body is in space. With my balance issues — which are the one outstanding remaining danger for me and my physical safety — I have to do something. The neuro I went to see to help me with it, doesn’t seem to take my situation all that seriously. Hell, they don’t seem to take ME all that seriously. So, I’ll just have to take care of this all, myself.

I can probably do a better job of it, anyway, because I know what my issues are. I have no trouble articulating them, because I don’t need to — I’m walking around in a body that’s got movement and balance challenges. I already know first-hand what the deal is, and I don’t have to convince anyone of it.

And that makes it a whole lot easier to deal with.

Personally, I’m sick and tired of people not taking me seriously, not believing me, and dismissing me — or brushing me off with some bogus explanation, because they can’t be bothered to look deeper. Maybe it’s a function of the medical system (I won’t say “healthcare”, because there’s something else driving it than “health” and “care”), which routinely traumatizes and exhausts its members, and then expects them to turn in stellar performances. I have to factor in that I’m dealing with professionals who are A) impaired at a functional level — and have been, since they started med school, and B) honor-bound to flatly deny that lack of sleep, secondary trauma, and the pressures of the insurance companies could have a negative impact on their performance.

So, I have to take it all with a grain of salt. And just use them for what they’re good for — prescriptions, if I need them. IF I want to take them — which I usually don’t. They’re gatekeepers for insurance companies, and little else, from what I’ve seen. Just as many financial advisors are little more than highly compensated sales reps for financial services companies (I know, because I was recruited by a fin svcs company many years ago, and I got an inside look at how things work — and I opted out).

So, all that aside, it feels great to be doing something for myself. I forgot to contact that trainer at work again, to go over some complex movements and strength training approaches. I’ll make a note to do it today. I’m feeling a lot of anticipation about this spring… I think it’s going to be a good one. And an old project I had put aside, years ago, has now suddenly shown itself to be feasible, as a solution to one of the big conundrums I couldn’t sort out before has suddenly become obvious to me. So, that’s a nice thing. Very nice indeed.

It’s amazing, what 9 hours of sleep will do for you. I’ll have to try for this again… and again… and again…



Well, so much for my new neuro…

The Neurologist by Jose Perez (Oil on Canvas, 24 in x 30 in, 61.5 cm x 77 cm)

Last night I got a letter from my new neuro — you know, the one I had to wait five months to see, because the insurance company wasn’t transferring their credentials from their old hospital, and they didn’t aggressively follow up…

Turns out, due to family obligations, they need to move out of state. They’re leaving at the end of June.

As they say in a crowded waiting room… Next!

I’m not sure how I feel about this whole thing. It’s annoying and disappointing, but it’s also kind of a relief.

On the one hand, I had to wait months to finally get to see them, but I was hoping it was worth it. It seemed like they were someone I could work with. I’ve been wanting to find a decent neuro, and they came highly recommended, so I waited. And I felt like I could work with them.

If I’m going to work with a neurologist, I really need to establish an extended relationship with them, so they can understand me and I can understand them. It’s not easy for me. It takes time. So, having them leave now is a blessing in disguise. At least I didn’t sink a lot of time and energy into that relationship.But the fact that I had to wait five months to see them, is five months of lost time — the whole time I could have spent finding another neuro to work with. And not had them skedaddle.

On the other hand, I’m not sure I want to develop a relationship with a neurologist. That initial visit really took the steam out of me. Covering all the details was draining, and even though I did feel like we got off to an okay start, it’s still kind of thrown me into a tailspin, having to factor in the whole diagnostic adventure. Migraine. Photophobia. Possible dysautonomia. Etc. I’ve got a lot going on with me, and I’m accustomed to managing things myself. So, adding in more input and requirements (especially meds) is pretty disruptive. It means I have to rethink a lot of things about my life. And make some changes that aren’t easy for me to make.

And there’s no guarantee they’re going to actually help me beyond what I can do for myself.

It’s nice to have some Imitrex handy, in case I get one of those crippling migraines again, but to be truthful, I don’t know that I’d even take it. Which is worse? The pain or the side-effects? At least with pain, I can function. Side effects… who knows?

The other thing is, all the doctors I’ve met (including this neuro) seem to have preconceived notions about how people who’ve sustained multiple concussions function and behave. When I tell them my history, they literally look at me like I have two heads, and they talk to me more slowly.

It’s almost like they expect me to be an idiot, or something. I mean, yeah – I do tend to forget things that people tell me in a matter of minutes, if I don’t take extra steps to remember it. But that doesn’t mean I’m an idiot. Nor does it mean I’m less intelligent.

Argh! It makes me crazy when people equate memory with intelligence or the ability to function. I mean, my resistance to short-term interference is close to the very bottom of the scale — that hasn’t changed in 6+ years of rehabilitation. But does that make me less intelligent or less capable of processing information in different ways? Oh, HELL no!

I simply have a different way of processing things, is all.

So effing there.

Anyway, it’s an amazingly beautiful day, and I managed to get an acupuncture appointment this morning — woot woot! It’s been a while, since I last had one, and I’ve been needing it. Coordinating all this healthcare is a huge pain in the ass. Between neurologists and orthopedists and chiropractors and acupuncturists and neuropsychologists and counseling (which is actually more of a check-in for me once a month to see how I’m doing), plus my day-job, meetings with recruiters, plus all the other things I do with myself, my proverbial dance card is FULL. Sigh.

But that’s changing… I can take the neuro out of the mix. I got my MRI and everything looks fine. I had a neck x-ray this past week, and other than a little arthritis, things are good. Overall, I’m in decent shape, and now I’ve done my periodic check-up for certain key areas that have been concerning me. It’s not any particular disorder. It’s just wear and tear from life. So it goes.

Anyway, since it is such a beautiful day, I’m going out for a walk.

Because I can.


My second neuro visit OR If only they could walk in my shoes…

Here are details from my most recent neuro visit, I believe back in August. As you can see, it was a less than stellar experience, and I’m still recovering a bit from it. It’s hard to believe that someone who specializes in neurological disorders can be so callous, but here we have it…

I had a 9:30 appointment scheduled with Dr. X to discuss headaches I’ve been having. I had been to see another neurologist about my series of mTBI’s some time back, but the results had not been conclusive, and I felt I’d just been shoved off. I didn’t mention this past visit to this new neuro — In retrospect, that was probably a tactical error, but I wasn’t sure how to explain what had happened, so I decided it was better to say nothing. When in doubt, I tend to do/say nothing, rather than initiating and seeing things blow up in my face. Plus, I wanted to start with a clean slate and get this doctor’s opinion without input from anyone else.

I had been to see this neuro on other occasions with a friend of mine who has some issues of their own. I thought it would be a good idea to work with someone who already knew me in a different capacity. I thought it would be easier for me to work with someone with whom I was already familiar. So, I had high hopes for this meeting. Hopes that didn’t pan out.

Here’s what I recall happening:

I arrived early at 9:20 and finished filling out my paperwork.

The receptionist was unpacking boxes at the time. I settled up with her for the co-pay and gave her my license and insurance card. I thought that the co-pay was $15, and when she corrected me that it was $25, I felt as though she thought I was trying to “get one over on them” and get out of paying the $10. I felt as though she was treating me like I was hostile. It was an innocent mistake on my part, and not intentional.

Around 9:30, the receptionist  had me go in to Dr. X’s office. I wasn’t sure about which door to go in, and she said “You know which one it is.” I honestly didn’t. I couldn’t remember which one was his, but when she pointed me to the door, I walked in and took a seat.

Dr. X greeted me cordially, shook my hand, and we chatted a little while.

He asked me why I was there, and I said I’d been having constant headaches.

He looked over my papers and told me that I had forgotten to fill in my employer and my occupation. He seemed miffed that I’d forgotten. It wasn’t intentional on my part. I gave him the information then, and he filled it in. We chatted a little about my work.

He asked me how old I was, and I hesitated when I answered. I don’t tend to think of myself as any certain age, and I will usually have to calculate how old I am, based in the year it is, less 1965, and then figuring out where in the calendar year I am. Dr. X commented that it took me a while to answer, as though there were something wrong with that, and I told him I usually have to do math to figure that out.

He then started to look over my information sheet, which I’d taken great pains to complete as thoroughly as possible. He flipped through the pages, and then started to work his way down through.

I pulled out my notebook with my family medical history, my history of injuries, my symptoms, and other information I’d collected which I thought might be important to know. I also had many pages of a headache journal I’d been keeping for a number of months, which showed exactly where and with what intensity I’d been having headaches. I had compiled this information over a period of more than 6 months, and it contained my most complete understanding of my cognitive situation. I also brought the notes with me to consult, so I could be accurate in my accounts. I tend to get turned around and unintentionally confabulate when I try to recount things (more when I’m under stress, but even under regular conditions, I have had a lifelong issue with unintentional confabulation), and I had hoped that I could rely on my notes to help me be as accurate as possible.

Dr. X told me to put away the notes. He didn’t want to see them. He also didn’t allow me to refer to them.

He proceeded to ask me questions about my headaches, the intensity, the frequency, the nature, the duration, and when I took a while to answer him, he became very impatient and told me I was over-thinking things.

He told me not to over-think my answers, but just to answer off the top of my head, which is very difficult for me to do.

I had to pause a lot to think, and my answers were not instantaneous. I could not verbalize my answers as quickly as he wanted me to, apparently, because he kept telling me to just answer with averages.

It’s very difficult for me to answer that simply, because nothing is that simple to me. I do not think in terms of a “bottom line” and I have a very precise and logical thinking process that sometimes takes longer than “normal” to complete. Being accurate and truthful is very important to me, and when I cannot be accurate, I become anxious. He really pressed me for quicker answers. “Just off the top of your head,” he said. “Just on average.”

It felt as though he were intentionally trying to trip me up and make me contradict myself, or find some “hole” in my “alibi”. I felt like I was being grilled, and I had done something wrong.

I had to stop and think a lot — I could see the answers to his questoins right in front of me — when he asked me about timeframes and durations of my headaches, I saaw images of calendars with days marked, and the severity of my headaches marked on the calendar (some were in colors). I could also see the pages of the calendars flipping by, and I tried to see what information was where. It was very hard for me, though, because he was moving faster than I could go, and I kept losing my place with the images. I had to close my eyes a lot to think, and I had to look down at the ground. I couldn’t look him in the eye AND figure things out, because looking at him distracted me from my thinking — and I started trying to “clue in” to him, instead of the answers to my questions.

At one point, he appeared to be very frustrated and said I needed to speed things up, or “We would be here till next Tuesday” before we got all the answers to the questions. I agreed with him, but I told him that I had to translate my visuals into words, and I am not a primarily verbal person. I tried to explain that I see the answers as images, and then I need to translate them into words, but I’m not sure it sank in with him. I was getting very frustrated, and I was tearing up, which seemed to annoy him.

He also asked me about any addiction background, and I told him I had quit drinking in 1989. It had been 19 years since my last drink, and I had not touched a single drop since. He asked if I’d taken drugs, and I told him a little bit — speed in high school, but only a few times a week, as it made me too speedy and upset my stomach. I told him had smoked marijuana while I was drinking during high school and college.

I may have left the addiction piece of information off my form, but it was not intentional. It was an oversight. He didn’t seem to see it that way.

He asked about any medication I was on, and I told him that I didn’t take any, and I was not a big medication person. I told him that I took Advil, now and then, and I had once taken it for headaches, but it had since stopped working at all.

We talked about my head injury experiences, and I gave him details from what I knew and could remember. It was very difficult for me to think on my feet, and I was becoming increasingly anxious. He was moving very fast, so I’m not sure I answered everything completely. I had my notes, but he would not allow me to consult them. When I tried to pull them out, he told me to put them away.

Dr. X seemed to become increasingly impatient with me, and he said we were just going to focus on my headaches.

He asked about the nature of them, if anything helped, if I exercised regularly, if I was under stress.

I told him that I’ve had a lot of stress, and that my headaches have gotten worse over the past 6 months. He asked if I’d been under more stress, and I told him I’d been in a very stressful job for 3 months.

He said he’s not a big “pill person”, and I said I was not, either. I prefer to deal with my aches and pains in other ways, and sometimes I’d rather just live with pain, instead of taking medications that gave me side effects.

He asked about the vertigo, and I told him it was worse when I had allergies. I told him that it was very intense and I had to hold onto things to keep from falling over at times.

He asked about my history with other injuries or conditions, and I told him about a diagnosis of lupus diagnosis in the late 1980’s, early 1990’s. He asked if it was discoid or systemic, and I believed it was systemic, but when I told him about the skin rash, he said that sounded like discoid, not systemic, and I became confused and said it may have been discoid, but not tests were ever conclusive. Also, the medications I’d been on had not helped.

After a while, we went into the examination room, and he conducted a physical neurological exam. It was standard, and he seemed to go very quickly — more quickly than I’d seen him go with a friend of mine. He seemed to be in a rush, and it was painful when he checked the reflexes on the bottoms of my feet. It was hard for me to answer quickly, when he pricked me with the pin, and sometimes it took a little while for me to verbalize I’d had the sensation. He seemed to think that I was “fixing” my answer to fit what he wanted to hear. I was getting confused and felt like the room was pulling away from me, and my reaction time was slowing.

During the exam, he asked me again if I had taken drugs recently. I told him no, I had not taken any drugs since stopping drinking in 1989. I believe he repeated the question, and I answered him again in the negative. I couldn’t figure out why he was asking me if I’d taken any drugs. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing he’d be asking me while he was checking my reflexes.

He told me that my exam was normal, and everything looked good.

We went back into his office, and he said that my exam looks clear – no indication of a tumor or vascular issues. He said he believed my headaches are tension headaches and he wrote some notes on a piece of paper. He gave it to me, and he said that my headaches are probably muscular in nature, related to stress. He also said that he thinks the vertigo is probably BPPV (Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo) or Meniere’s Syndrome, and I could check with an Ear-Nose-Throat (ENT) specialist if I chose to. He didn’t seem to think I needed to see someone, but my ears have been hurting me a lot, and I said I would like to talk to an ENT specialist. He referred me to a doctor he knew and believed was good. He wrote that down on a piece of paper (his prescription pad?), as well, and gave me that.

He said that he didn’t think that medication would necessarily help, as it may cause side effects, and I agreed with him. He also said he didn’t think an MRI or EEG would show anything, which was really disappointing. I mean, I have a whole lot of issues, and I have trouble sorting them out, and the one way I can think of reducing some of the mystery, is to have an MRI or an EEG or something like that. I really didn’t know what to say at that point. All I could manage, was to agree with him, which irritated me when I did it, but I was helpless to do anything else. My thinking process had slowed considerably by that time, and I was feeling very overwhelmed and confused by everything. I wasn’t sure if he was being congenial or if he was upset with me. He seemed distant. But I couldn’t really tell for sure how he was being with me.

He asked if I exercise, and I didn’t know what to say. I lead a pretty active life, and I move a lot through the course of each day. I could see myself walking and moving a lot at work, walking across parking lots, and making extra effort to incorporate exercise into my daily life, but I couldn’t just come up with a simple “yes” or “no”. I had to think about whether or not I was going for walks. I eventually answered “Not regularly,” and he said, “No” and wrote that down. He said he wanted to see me exercising on a regular basis, nothing really heavy, just maybe going for a brisk walk with a friend several times a week. I saw a friend of mine and me walking along a road near my home, but I didn’t know when that would or could happen, as I work such long hours during the week. Dr. X appeared a little exasperated with me, as though he thought I wasn’t being fully cooperative.

He asked me if there was anything I do that relaxes me, but I was having a hard time processing at that point. I couldn’t think of anything — I was drawing a blank. I told him I draw and I write, and he recommended I draw 15 minutes a day. I couldn’t figure out how to explain that when I draw, I get very absorbed in my work, and I lose track of time, but there was no time for me to figure out how to say that. He also recommended that I exercise regularly, go for a brisk walk with a friend on a regular basis. Again, there was no time for me to respond in a way I felt was adequate.

I told him I was going to see another doctor for a neuropsychological exam, and he said he would like to know the results of that. I told him I would keep him apprised.

He said he wanted to see me again in 7 weeks, to see how I was doing.

I made an appointment with his receptionist. I had a hard time thinking through my schedule at the end of August, beginning of September, and she was not very patient with me. She acted like I was pretending to be “slow”.

Basically, I felt completely humiliated and treated like I was a liar who was seeing him under false pretenses — as though I had been an addict showing drug-seeking behavior. I left in a daze, and I went to the nearest bathroom, locked the door tightly, crouched down in a fetal position, and cried… and cried again in the car before I drove to run an errand. And felt like crap for the rest of the day. I did collect myself and manage to get on with my day, but the flow of my day was completely disrupted, as was my weekend. It was too disruptive for words, and I in retrospect, I really resent the implications that I think were in play.

Sometimes, it just sucks when nobody can tell you’ve got issues… and they treat you like a criminal, just because you’re trying to get some answers (and they apparently can’t help you, but don’t want to say so).

It also sucks to have processing difficulties that might be making things look worse — or better — than they are, and that keep you from being able to ask for help.