I will now tell you the ending of a strange story beginning with an extended month-long internet search for a doc who performs cryotherapy (killing a nerve by freezing) for a painful neuroma in my foot. I found Dr. Chuck Peter’s name in a medical chat room, contacted him, and made an appointment Today daughter Caroline and grandson Caleb drove with me to Lewisburg, TN to have the procedure. Dr. Peter is very understanding, considering that I diagnosed myself and ordered the treatment. I must admit that after traveling 150 miles and then once there, through the little almost deserted town with many corn fields and cows on either side and finding the small clinic with no cars in front with Caleb saying, "Grandmother, he has no patients. I'll bet he'll have to borrow a rusty needle from the vet," I was more than a little worried, though I had talked to the doc at length on the phone and was confident that he was competent. The receptionist greeted me with suspicious eagerness, saying, "Well, here's our new patient," giving me the feeling that I may be the "only" patient. Then Dr. Peter told about buying his Cryostar machine from a little English gentleman who delivered it, set it up himself, and trained a few area docs. The guy, according to Dr. Peter, stopped on the road when they went to dinner to talk to area farmers; I guess TN reminded him of England. Doc told me that the European Cryostar Company went bankrupt later, but the one in the U.S .is still carrying on. That bit of information didn't add to my confidence.
My doc started up the machine after prepping my foot, and it began a rhythmic, mystical sound (nitric oxide doing its thing), as I stared out at a corn field and asked myself why I was there. His assistant (only employee - receptionist/nurse/assistant) was standing by, and when he described certain buttons on the machine, she was supposed to press them, since his hands were sterile. I was hoping against hope that she would not press the wrong button and have my foot go up in smoke or something. First, the button with upside down "u," then the one with the star, and then there was a scramble to find the foot pedal, which had disappeared under a drape. Dr. Peter was a smooth talker, and allayed my fears, and after the numbing injection, I felt nothing. Doc said the procedure was a no-brainer, and said it was very boring, waiting for the machine to do its thing; I for one had hopes that the machine WOULD do its thing. It was over after about 10 minutes of weird hisses from the Cryostar. The assistant then proceeded to tell me of a dream she had the night before about having Doc Peter operate on her and having blood spurt everywhere and a strange object removed from her foot. I thanked her for not telling the story before my procedure. Doc Peter looked kind of embarrassed to have such a raw recruit assisting. The whole thing was kind of bizarre, but I walked out with no pain. I really wanted to hug the doc, but felt it would embarrass him.
I wonder if investing in Cryostar would be a good thing?
In Celebration of MHS Class of 1958
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
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3 comments:
Like I said in e-mail this a.m., we are both a hoot. Loved your story.
I suspect a better investment would be in some sensitivity training for the nurse/assistant.
And I suspect the good doctor would do much better if he employed some more patient friendly practices. You were certainly brave to go forward.
Very nice story.
MA, your ability to tell us about your ordeal from the inside out is telling. You write well. That you were able to convert the situation into a humorous vignette drew me in. As I was reading I felt as if I were along with you for the day. Grandson, Caleb's comment on the office's location and the potential consequence is quite funny.
I'm happy that your procedure appears to have solved your problem. Many podiatrists are "surgery happy" with mixed results.
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