Doctor #1, #2, #3, and #4

I was 7 or 8 the first time I developed Osteochondritis Dissecans.  The pain was, in my dramatic opinion, unbearable and torturous. My doctor didn't diagnose me, though he knew what it was, and I left the hospital with an unsatisfying 'you have a hole in your left ankle'.  Thanks, Doc.  Luckily, it healed itself, and I had no treatment. 

But nearing my 12th birthday, I felt the familiar pains, and, unwisely, decided I would rather die than go back to Dr. "Grump" as me and my family call him.  But it began to intervene with my life; when I went somewhere with friends, I couldn't go very fast.  When I played with them on a trampoline or something, I tripped because it was so painful.  One of my best friends convinced me to go to my mom with the problem, so I did.  My mom was hard to convince, which isn't surprising, given that I was/am a HUGE drama queen.  But when it began to make a sick (and awesome, in my twisted opinion) snapping noise, she was convinced.  We went to the rude doctor, who took an MRI and X-ray (not enjoyable), of my right ankle.  He found it, but, again, did nothing.  So I saw a different doctor, someone my family was comfortable and friendly with - we'd had a good experience with him.  He said it was severe, and not likely to heal without help.  When I was diagnosed, I got really upset.  I thought he was going to do something horrible, like put me on crutches.  Don don don. Like I said, drama.  But he put me in a soft, removable cast for 3 months with NO activity. I was sad to see gym go, but grateful for a cure.  To bad it did nothing.  It got worse, despite everything, and my frustration level shot through the roof. I felt like I'd just wasted 3 months, and in a way, I had.  But I'd tried, and that just wasn't the right thing.  I was annoyed, but understanding.  Then he suggested surgery, but said he wouldn't be around to do it.  I'm fine with surgery.  So he sent me to a doctor who said "'WHAT?!?!? NO WAY!!! SURGERY IS TOO DANGEROUS!!! I'LL HIT YOUR GROWTH PLATE!!! CRUTCHES FOR 3 MONTHS!!!" I was so irritated that I became a stubborn mule the second we got the crutches.  I refused to use them, furious and obnoxious.  My mother, fed up, took me to a different doctor.  I felt like I was chasing my tail.  Finally, this doctor said, "I can do the surgery, but I won't if you don't promise me to do exactly what I tell you" I agreed, and have had my surgery. I am now doing Physical Therapy and awaiting my release from the crutchs

You can call me a ninny for saying this, but in all my years of life, I have never felt this alone, misunderstood and frustrated. I don't know if you all feel the same.

alivan10 alivan10
Feb 17, 2010