good to know

I met with Stacy on Monday.  but while I was waiting to see her, I asked one of the receptionists how many more visits I had.

I may have explained this before, but with my insurance, I'm entitled to roughly 20 visits.  after that, my therapist can assess me and extend my therapy for roughly 20 more, but that is all that I am entitled to for the entire year, regardless of my medical need. so if I get hit by a truck and then need more physical therapy, apparently, I would be out of luck until a year has passed.  so it is in my best interest to not use up every single one of my physical therapy visits just on balance therapy, just in case.

so, the receptionist told me, "oh, this is visit 20 of 20."

really?  when did they plan on telling me this?  wow.

I felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under me.  I wasn't ready yet.

other times I had gone to physical therapy, I had known in advance when my last day was coming.  I usually brought something in for the therapists as a "thank you" gift, like cookies or something.  one practice awards "graduates" with shirts and other tokens when they have completed their therapy.  this seemed a bit cold.

I had been seeing these people for months.  joking with them.  crying to them.  and now, because of an arbitrary number set by the government, it was suddenly going to be over.  one of my few links to the "outside world."  I know I'm taking this way too hard, but my world is very small, and it was about to become even smaller.

so, Stacy came for me and took me to a treatment room so we could discuss my progress.  she gave me a few questionnaires to fill out, rating scales which measure my confidence and depression levels.

funny thing about that.  since I've studied about these kind of tests and administered them myself, I'm always guessing at what "they" are looking for, and not always what I really feel.  it's a terrible way to be, I know.  but it's like trying to unlearn to read.  you can't do it.  try it.  just try to look at a page of written words without reading them.  yeah, I thought so.

well, I knew that I couldn't seem too depressed and I had to show more confidence than the last time I took these tests and, well, maybe I have progressed somewhat anyway, I don't know.  it's hard to be honest when you are trying to not be honest.

in any case, Stacy was happy with my answers, and that's what matters.  right?

she told me that we will have a few more sessions where we will plan my dismissal.  she'd make sure I was all set with home exercise.

that's when I told her about my little experiment with home exercise.  I was ready for her to tell me it was anxiety again.

instead, she told me that I should get a cardiac workup, that what I described to her sounded cardiac.  I'm not gonna lie; I started crying.  not because I'm worried, but because I felt like an ass.

I don't even know why I felt stupid, though.  I guess because I have let doctors push me around and to the side so long and dismiss me, even when I feel things like this.  well, why shouldn't I?  I let other people do it, too.

I told her I would finally get a physical and go from there.  I also asked her if it would be possible to see the neurologist sooner than the end of June.  actually, I am seeing the nurse practioner and I want to see the doctor.  I didn't think that was unreasonable.  neither did Stacy.  she told me to tell this to the receptionists (p.s., they couldn't find me an appointment with him).  we then had our normal session and I was on my way.

since then, I've made an appointment with my primary care doctor for a physical. I've been exercising some. other than that, business as usual.