That's text speak for "shaking my head."
So I'm getting more annoyed with the neurology people I'm now a patient of by the day.
Last week, in an attempt to appease me as I sobbed in pain, anger, and frustration, the doc and NP told me that they would set me up with a pain management doctor to help me survive the next four weeks until I'm allowed to have surgery. That was the one good thing they did or said that day. I was busy trying to stop crying listening to the NP sound totally condescending, so by the time I went to check out, the receptionist lady was already on the phone and asked me what time I wanted for the pain management appointment. She wrote down the address and time and I was on my way and didn't think anything more of it because I was just really happy to get away from them.
Fast forward to this afternoon for my appointment. The imbeciles did not send me to a pain management doctor. They sent me to a rehab doctor, a doctor whose job is a mix of diagnosing injuries or helping people get back full function post surgery. NEITHER OF WHICH I NEED RIGHT NOW. So I don't know if they lied to me or they're just stupid or what.
The silver lining of wasting an hour of my life waiting to see a doctor I shouldn't have been seeing anyway is that the woman felt so sorry for me for the bad directions and for the pain she said she clearly saw that I'm in that she wrote me a prescription for Vicodin that will last me at LEAST until I see my surgeon next Wednesday. She was very kind and didn't talk down to me or act like she knew more about me than I do or anything like that, which was a nice treat compared to the neurology people.
So maybe I'll sleep for more than four hours at a time tonight for the first time in weeks now that I finally have something to at least take the edge off the pain. Vicodin doesn't help much, but it's better than nothing.
I'm really, really glad I don't have anywhere to go tomorrow. Mostly because I have a whole lot of reading to do. Ha. Go figure. But for now, I sleep.