A DIRECT LINK TO THE MAN UPSTAIRS
Every doctor I see from now on will forever be compared to the man I met for my second medical opinion. I honestly believe he has a direct link to the "man upstairs." His bedside manner put me immediately at ease. I was floored with his knowledge of the subject, and I immediately knew that this guy knew exactly what he was talking about.
In order to give me a fair impartial opinion, the doctor told me that he did NOT want to see my records or hear anything Doc Number One had said. He asked me to be quiet and only answer his questions. He wanted to make an initial diagnosis before hearing what Doctor One had to say. Sounded good to me.
After several minutes of answering his questions and a thorough nose scope, he said I needed to undergo testing for a CSF Leak. He explained all the variables involved with this. But this time it was a lot more bearable. I guess that this was due to his bedside manner. Unfortunately, his schedule at the time was more than he could handle. He regrettably had to refer me to another doctor. But, being referred by Doctor Two, I trusted that Doctor Three was worth his mettle. (Not to mention, Doc Two & Three were both from separate but equally reputable hospitals!)
THIRD MEDICAL OPINION
So, on a Monday, I was off to see Doctor Three, for my third opinion. On the first visit, appointments were made for an MRI that week on Thursday. I also made an appointment for that dreaded "lumbar puncture." Damn.
Prior to leaving the office, I was given a test tube to fill with the fluid that was dripping out of my nose.
"How soon do you need it?" I asked. "Bring it with you Thursday," Doctor Three replied. I can't explain it, but per Doc One, the fluid needed to be tested immediately upon collection. Doc Three didn't find this necessary. I asked about this but, Doctor Three just said "bring it Thursday." Okay, if you say so... I mean, you are the doctor. (Right?)
As to my sinus surgery... Both Doctors Two and Three said that Doctor One's technique was great. But, they both advised that they would have held off on the surgery due to my initial complaint of that clear, watery drip. (Hmmm...)
TESTING...TESTING...1-2-3...
Well, I had no idea what the heck an MRI was. My wife and I were driving up to the hospital (did I mention all these places were two hours away?) and she says, "Well, I think they put you in a big tube..."
"No, they don't." I countered, "It's just like the Cat Scan, a big 'donut thing' you go thru." (I hoped.)
Well, I've never been claustrophobic in my life. But, being a large frame guy it really spooked me when I laid down and the technician strapped a catcher's mask-type thing over my face. I was then shot into that tube... head first. The tube was so small in diameter that I couldn't lay flat. My shoulders scrunched up to conform with the shape of the tube.
I lasted all of about two minutes. After some mild sedation, I was ready to go back in. I almost completed the entire test... almost.
Well, Doctor Three said now I needed to come back for the dreaded "LUMBAR PUNCTURE."