The Second Opinion
When I first started writing this blog, I would write it after I got home from being with Robb in the hospital. I would be exhausted, and generally would have only the vaguest idea of what I was going to say. I would purge the experiences of the day, and then go to bed.
Then later, I had more time to reflect on what I was going to say. Some entries were the product of a lot of reflection. Some were more off the cuff.
Today, I'm at a bit of a loss for what to write.
It turns out that Highland Hospital, where Robb spent the first week, and where he visits his neurosurgeon, has not sent any of the records of Robb's follow-up care to the insurance company. Nothing from a doctor's visit, none of the xrays. (They have, however, continued to send bills to my HMO, and I get no fewer than three letters about that every week.)
So, because the insurance company is missing documentation of this aspect of Robb progress, they sent us to another physician for a second opinion. In this case, Robb was seen by a orthopedic surgeon in San Francisco. The insurance company needs some information from a doctor, regarding where Robb is in his recovery, and what an expected outcome might be.
We had a fairly long interview with the physician's assistant, and then the doctor met with us. Unlike most of the medical professionals we've met with so far, this doctor gave a pretty dire prognosis. He told Robb that, given the severity of his injury, Robb had better figure out what he was going to do with the rest of his life, because it was likely that he would be permanently disabled. He told Robb that he would have to "get over" his fatigue, and find the energy to create a new life. He also said that Robb would be under the care of a urologist for the rest of his life.
When he left the room, I looked at Robb and Linda our nurse case manager and said, "Well! That was blunt and harsh."
Robb and I both agree that we will accept whatever we end up with, but we both steadfastly believe that there can be a good outcome to all of this.
We have to believe that things will turn out well, and keep working toward that goal.
Then later, I had more time to reflect on what I was going to say. Some entries were the product of a lot of reflection. Some were more off the cuff.
Today, I'm at a bit of a loss for what to write.
It turns out that Highland Hospital, where Robb spent the first week, and where he visits his neurosurgeon, has not sent any of the records of Robb's follow-up care to the insurance company. Nothing from a doctor's visit, none of the xrays. (They have, however, continued to send bills to my HMO, and I get no fewer than three letters about that every week.)
So, because the insurance company is missing documentation of this aspect of Robb progress, they sent us to another physician for a second opinion. In this case, Robb was seen by a orthopedic surgeon in San Francisco. The insurance company needs some information from a doctor, regarding where Robb is in his recovery, and what an expected outcome might be.
We had a fairly long interview with the physician's assistant, and then the doctor met with us. Unlike most of the medical professionals we've met with so far, this doctor gave a pretty dire prognosis. He told Robb that, given the severity of his injury, Robb had better figure out what he was going to do with the rest of his life, because it was likely that he would be permanently disabled. He told Robb that he would have to "get over" his fatigue, and find the energy to create a new life. He also said that Robb would be under the care of a urologist for the rest of his life.
When he left the room, I looked at Robb and Linda our nurse case manager and said, "Well! That was blunt and harsh."
Robb and I both agree that we will accept whatever we end up with, but we both steadfastly believe that there can be a good outcome to all of this.
We have to believe that things will turn out well, and keep working toward that goal.
Comments
The flag bearer in all of this is Patrician Neal who had a massive stroke. The family was told she would never we able to walk, talk, or do anything "normal". She did all of that and returned to stage and film!!!!! A big streak of stubbornness can be a wonderful thing.
you know just because you can pass medical school doesn't mean you are a good doctor. Sheesh someone needed a class or two in bedside manner.
However, it's okay to to consider part of what the doctor said, while continuing to strive towards independence. The accident may be an opportunity for Robb to explore possible new paths, including a career change. I, for one, think he should enroll in the superhero training academy immediately. He already has part of the gear, and someone can knit him up a cape in no time. Now, what should be his alter-ego's catchy name?
--Laura (Dewberry)
I don't doubt that you both are aware of and have discussed the more dire possibilities. But to be prepared for the worst - and to expect the worse - are two different things.
You have a group of medical professionals you have worked with for over six months, watching your progress and helping your recovery along. And then you have one doctor whose office spent maybe a couple of hours with you, with incomplete records. I don't need to tell you whose opinion has more weight.
It's not like the guy told you anything you didn't already sort of fear in the dark parts of your mind in the middle of the night. Now that "this part of the event" is spoken out loud, you can move past it.
Look at it this way- Robb didn't break his neck, he's not stuck in a bed for the rest of his life, and he's not a vegetable. Apparently he's also learned how to cook. Not Bad!
Things look up when ever even small advances are made. You have a choice- you can look at what he was like at the time of the accident, and see how far he's come- and continue to hope for the best. You MUST NOT loose hope. Robb was probably one of 40 patients the burned out Doc saw that day. That doc has got to learn more about balancing reality with possibility. My old Johns Hopkins Med student housemates used to tell me that as well. Reality in Robb's case shows him slowly advancing, right? He can feel his feet now, right?
If Scientists can fix the back of a crappy lab rodent, they can certainly fix the back of someone who doesn't lick his own ass as part of a sanitary act. That's my opinion on it, and I'm not stupid.
Be glad your "Govern-ator" has the stones to continue stem-cell research as well. If you guys had to suffer an injury like this in your life, your in the right state for it.
Stick with your regular care givers if at all possible, and also investigate just "good thinking" people as well. The power of the mind is incredible. In many ways, now is the toughest time, needing to rest and repair. Patience is a virtue. Keep up with the outdoor walks- even nature destroyed by a violent act recovers in time, and we are all a part of nature. It's not like you guys are fat, overweight, cocaine swilling, cigarette smokers either.
Also, what if Robb doesnt heal 100 percent back to what he was before? It's not like he's completely "lost" and joined some weirdo cult, or something like that - you've still got him, and he's still got you, and that puts you guys way ahead of many, many other people in this world.
My thoughts are with you- Annalisa
In truth, I was not so rattled by this office visit. As Laura pointed out, the opinion was rendered without reference to all the records. Also, I think this Dr. felt obliged to give a conservative estimation (for a variety of reasons).
On the other hand, he was the first health pro I've talked to to tell me what I've known all along, I need to plan for major career shift.
On the drive home, Lisa and I found ourselves in complete and comforting agreement about the prognosis:
We can accept my condition as it is today but fully expect that I will be as good as new.
Love and thanks to you all.
So, take what you can get out of it. Then, in the end, when you have a new career... and you have been healing and improving all along... you can stride right back into the jerk's office and say...Here's my opinion!!!
Bandaid
LOVE, DAD