Tuesday, September 12, 2006
We have our long awaited neurologist appointment tomorrow. I am so relieved it is finally here, and at the same time I am totally nervous. I don't know what to expect, never having done this before. I don't know which questions he will ask or what information to bring along, so I will be up tonight typing/printing every piece of information he might find informative. Earlier this week, I spoke with KayTar's pediatrician and she said that it is great that we finally are seeing the neuro, but make sure he doesn't railroad me into accepting a diagnosis and that he is really listening to what I say and hasn't made his mind up prematurely. That freaks me out. I am soft-spoken, I hate confrontation, I hate decision making, and I am prone to accepting what anyone tells me. The thought that I have to go in there and make up my own mind about what is happening with KayTar, and making sure the doctor makes a correct diagnosis, when I really have no idea is frightening. I wish I could bring my pediatrician along. She is so supportive and wonderful and advocates for KayTar at every turn, I wish she could be there tomorrow. What if we don't have another neuro appointment for a very long time, if ever? What if nothing gets solved tomorrow and it is our one shot? Before Sunday, I just thought this appointment would be check-up to see how wonderfully the medication is working, but evidently that isn't the case. When I drop into the depths of this panic, I keep trying to picture the neurologist, with his gray hair and uni-brow and foreign accent KayTar finds so dreamy...and I think, is there really anything to worry about? The calm lasts about 45 seconds, but it is long enough to catch my breath. SIGH. I'd love to stay here all night and agonize over this...but medical histories are calling to me, so I best not keep them waiting any longer.
Posted by Kyla at 11:13 PM