It’s not me, it’s you.

I’ve said it before – seeing doctors is a lot like dating. Just sent a Dear John letter to the last doctor I saw, a guy I was sent to by Dr. Primary Care. I had emailed Dr. PC after my latest fall, informing him that this was fall #3 in less than 3 months, and this time off the top step of  a bus, right onto my knees and my left cheek. Ouch. Freaked me out to the point I was too scared to drive home after the incident.

To Dr. PC’s credit, he called me right away. “Have you seen a neurologist?” “Yes, many.” “Time for a second opinion.”
(Or 12th, whatever.)

So he sends me off to his second choice, because he knows his first choice of neurologists has a waiting list to rival the French Laundry.  So, I get sent to Dr. Second Best, who has an appointment available relatively soon, and a very empty waiting room when I arrive.  That should have been my first clue. He does the standard neurological work-up, and decides that based on my symptoms, a brain MRI is in order.

Not having a recent photo of the inside of my head, and the fact that I had smacked my face pretty hard, I was agreeable to an update of the noggin.

Dr. Second Best also asked me to email some other MRI results, which I did. Twice. Since he didn’t respond  by email with so much as a  “Thanks,”  I assumed he had given me the wrong email addy, so also sent these results by snail mail.   Still no response.

After my brain MRI, I called the office to get the results.  “Everything’s fine,” chirped the receptionist. “Great, can you please mail me a copy of the report?” ” No problem.”

I wait. Nothing. Nada. He doesn’t call, she doesn’t send copies, crickets.

I shoot off an email to Dr. Primary Care, who thankfully does check his message box and responds.  He hasn’t contacted you?  Why I sent him a bunch of copies of reports (seemingly the same ones I did). No, he hasn’t followed up with me, either.

So Dr. Second Best, you’re done with me. Either you don’t have a clue what’s going on and your little ego can’t handle telling me that, or you’re really that disorganized or disinterested in your work to care.  Either way, I deserve better than what you have to offer, which is nothing.  I’m sure you won’t shed a tear that I won’t be going back to see you, but I will make sure that your colleague doesn’t send any more patients to you.   Also, make sure to respond to my requests for the medical records and notes right away, because if you don’t, I will have no problem in filing a formal complaint.

If you think I was too much trouble to bother with, wait till the State Medical Board knocks on your door.