I saw a hand surgeon today

First off, my hands are crooked, especially the right one, thanks to Rheumatoid Arthritis. So I secured a referral from my PCP doctor and went to see a Hand Surgeon today. I went in with the high hopes as I heard good things about this particular doctor, that he could do something close to a miracle.

Not so fast.

Xrays taken, I am being whisked to another room, am sitting tight and waiting.  An assistant peeks in and asks if I am in pain, and off on his merry way. He seems to be in a big hurry, didn’t take my vital signs or asked more questions that I thought was a given but not a problem.

In comes a lady wearing a white gown of sorts and asks how I am. I am like, I am here to see a doctor so-and-so, and who are you?  Then she confesses to being a resident, and proceeds asking questions.  Mind you, it’s one of the Health Centers of Cleveland Clinic, hence the red tape. I told her that I would much rather see a doctor sooner than later. Argh, this is exactly what I hate about big places with the big red tapes.

Finally the hand doctor comes in, takes a look at my hands and delivers the news. Not of a good variety. Basically he says that a surgery won’t help in that it’ll limit my range of motion.  This coupled with a fact that I am not in pain, played into him not recommending surgery.  End of story.

I was crushed. I was having high hopes and in a matter of minutes they were poof, gone. My whole world came crumbling down. Maybe he is right but I am at the receiving end. Oh well. I went home feeling pretty much hopeless and gloomy. Life however goes on, and so is the street traffic. I went out a different way than I went in, took chances with an unfamiliar exit from the parking lot and ended up going the right way after all.

On my way home stopped for a grocery shopping and splurged on a few things, which is something I usually don’t do. But now it didn’t matter. Nothing matters. My hands are doomed to be crooked for the rest of my life, so what’s the point in saving a few bucks?

Came home, googled a bit. Found out that the doctor was actually talking about a joint fusion. There is however an option of a joint replacement, but I likely won’t do it. Will sit tight and wait, maybe something else pops up. A new procedure, a new technology. C’mon now, this is the 21st century, after all.

There’s still a glimpse of a hope (I think).  Thanks for the ear, my dear readers.