A while ago my little guy was complaining of pain in his knee and down to his leg. For the first little while, we blamed it on the fact that he had grown almost 6 inches in seven months and that football was becoming pretty physical. After working with the athletic trainer for a while, the trainer thought it would be a good idea to send the little guy to an Ortho to get the knee and leg more thoroughly examined. An appointment was made for Wednesday morning and away we went.
The first thing the Doctor did was order X-rays of his knee and leg. We sit in the exam room for what seems like forever, waiting on the doctor. When he finally comes in, I could sense right away he was concerned. Call it mom-stinct or whatever, but my stomach immediately clenched up and I felt the beginnings of panic setting in. There are times when being able to read people well is more of a curse than a blessing. The doctor begins to examine the little guy but he wasn’t focusing on his knee hardly at all. He was really poking and prodding down in the upper shin and calf areas. Several minutes pass and the doctor finally moves up to his knee and does all the knee tests that I am so very familiar with. The doctor completes his exam and sits down. He buzzes his nurse asking her to bring in his laptop so that he can show me the x-rays.
The doctor starts off with the knee and says that there may be a small meniscus tear but he thinks that the knee is structurally sound. But…(I hate when Doctors say “But”) there are two spots showing on the x-ray in the upper shin area of Little Guy’s leg that shouldn’t be there. Spots?? What the hell? He is only 15! I ask if the spots are bruising in his leg from a hit or something. The doctor says no, these are within the bone itself and we need to get a clearer picture of them to determine if they are cancerous or not.
Talk about a gut check. I felt the urge to vomit right there, all over his slick little Apple computer. I look over at Little Guy to check his reaction. He is completely engrossed in his ipod and not paying any attention at all, which is somewhat of a relief. Kids shouldn’t have to hear stuff like that, should they? I try to tell myself that I am not hearing him right. Surely, we can’t be discussing the big C when it comes to my baby boy, right?! The Doctor patiently explains to me again what his fears are with the spots as I am doing everything I can to make him change what he just said.
Finally, Control Freak Suzi asserts herself and I start asking where we go from here. I am a planner, damnit; give me a plan to focus on so my mind will take over and my guts can settle. The doctor wants to do an MRI of the knee and leg so that a very clear picture of these spots can be made. Great, lets get that done. I/we can wait all day to get one done. What time shall we be back for the MRI today? Well, low and behold, we can’t get it done today. I am at a loss. We can’t get this test done today? When my Army man and Hubby had knee injuries, the MRI’s were done w/in hours of the appointment. The scheduling nurse patiently explains to me that with all the regulations and changes that have come to pass due to “Obama Care” we will have to wait for insurance approval. (Flipping Obama Care! Grrrr!) An MRI was scheduled for Monday morning and a follow up appointment on the next Wednesday to get the results.
Okay, waiting a few days for an answer isn’t awful, I can handle this, right? Yup, I suck it up, put on my brave face and take Little Guy to school. I go home, find Hubby and explain the situation to him. We are both worried and feeling a little ill. Hubby asked what Little Guy thought about everything. I have to snort at this point because Little Guy was completely oblivious to the gut wrenching conversation that took place right in front of him, all he knew is that he has to have an MRI done and that he doesn’t want surgery if his meniscus is torn until after football season is over. Hubby and I decided that it wasn’t necessary to fully explain the details of the visit unless he asked about them. We both agreed that a 15 year old shouldn’t have to worry about this until it was absolutely necessary for him to have to worry about it. So the wait begins…..
Friday evening my phone rings. It is the scheduling nurse that we worked with to get the MRI set up. Well, we can’t do the MRI Monday because the insurance company hasn’t approved it. WHAT?! What do you mean they haven’t approved it? Why are you calling me at 4:45 pm on Friday to tell me this? Ohhh, I am pissed! I call my insurance agent and again it is explained to me that due to Obama Care, our insurance may not allow the MRI to happen right away. The case will have to be reviewed by the company’s medical team and a decision made as it whether or not this test is really needed, so on and so forth. Don’t get me wrong, our agent is the complete shit when it comes to our insurance needs, I am not knocking him at all. By this time, it is after 5 pm and all hands are tied. Our agent tells me that first thing Monday, he will do whatever he can do to get the ball rolling on this. I call the scheduling nurse back (poor thing, she bore the brunt of pissed off Mama Bear pretty well) and she is just as frustrated as I am, it seems. It’s always interesting to get the opinion of folks who work in the medical field about the Obama Care bullshit. The MRI is rescheduled for Wednesday pending insurance approval. With the help of the Doctor, our agent and a little bit of pissed off mama bear, the Wednesday morning MRI is approved by Monday afternoon.
MRI get’s done and the Dr’s office calls to ask us to go ahead and come in to get the results that day. They have sent the MRI off to get an immediate reading (technology is a wonderful thing). The spots are NOT cancerous, they are just deformities in his bone that will cause no long-term effects or problems. And the knee shows a small amount of fluid build up due to a slight sprain (stretching) of his MCL. There is nothing to worry about on either issue. Words can’t really describe the relief I felt upon hearing this. I say a silent thank you prayer and look at my little guy. Rhut Roh…he is PISSED!
As we walk out of the office and get into the truck my Little Guy is fuming. He asks why we didn’t tell him that the MRI was checking him for cancer? Didn’t we think he had a right to know this? He is completely full of 15-year-old hormone outrage. I told him that the doctor had explained everything the first visit when we were both in the room and that he just wasn’t paying attention. Hubby and I had discussed it and felt that it was not necessary to put that type of stress onto him. Little Guy was still upset and felt we mislead him about everything. I told him that I would lie down in front of a train to keep him from having to go through that type of stress and worry at his age. I refused to apologize for it and would make the same choice everyday for the next year if I had to. He was mad for a while, but after a couple of days I think he began to understand our position on this.
By now you are probably wondering why I have went into this long-winded dissertation about a simple knee sprain. Well folks, you need to educate yourselves about “Obama Care” and all of its repercussions. Did you know that when this plan fully takes effect, you could be told when and where you can see a doctor? If I find a lump in my breast, I could be put on a list for the next available mammogram, which may not take place for 6 months or more? So much for early detection and treatment! The government and the insurance company will be telling YOUR doctor what is needed, not the other way around. I could go on for many more pages about my findings when I took the time to educate myself about this bullshit. Not what the news told me, not what I read on Facebook, but actual honest to God education. For your own sakes, talk to a nurse, ask your doctor, talk to your insurance agent, talk to a congressman who knows (snort!) the ever-changing facts about Obama Care. And beware…if anyone tells you that they completely understand the nonsense that is the Obama Care health act, you should call bullshit on them at once.
Take the time and help yourself folks…. you never know when it may be your 15 year old child facing the possibility of the big C,…and then it’s up to some unknown entity who couldn’t give two shits about him that will decide if and when he gets the necessary testing and/or treatment.
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