Slapped down again

I wrote on Tuesday about the joy of living near New York and of watching the Royal Shakespeare Company’s Romeo & Juliet.  It was a good day.

Shoulda known it wouldn’t last.

I went to the surgeon yesterday and he told me he wants to put me under his knife again. He can’t figure out why I’m still in so much pain as we approach the six-month mark since surgery. Blood tests and a bone scan told him nothing, so he figures the best thing to do is cut me up again and see what’s what.

That may be the best thing to do, but I want someone else to say that too. I mean, “I don’t know what’s wrong, so let’s operate” doesn’t sound like good medical practice to me. Might make good financial sense – for the surgeon. Not for me.

(That’s actually NOT an issue, I’m glad to say. Having the Yale Health Plan means very low prescription co-pays, no out of pocket expenses for procedures, and no forms to fill out).

So this gotdam (sic) saga continues. My knee still hurts like hell and I have to decide what to do next. I’ve already pointed out there’s a reason we call it “practicing” medicine, but can I ever hope that someday they’ll figure it out, stop practicing and just DO IT RIGHT?!

FTS!