Medical avoidance

When it comes to health problems I make a very clear distinction between my own and others. I have never been on the "let's wait and see" side of things when it comes to other people's health issues. I come from a long line of hypochondriacs and self-medicating crazies who never leave the house without at least one purse filled with drugs inside their bag, and Hidai is the son of a doctor whose gift to us when Ron was born was two boxes filled to the brim with every baby medicine known to mankind. Seriously, he brought it to the hospital. And then he came around every couple of days to make sure the baby is being treated well. Also, and you might not have known that, Jews loved doctors. That is why the old joke about every Jewish mum wanting her son to be a doctor is not really a joke. We love medicine and procedures and doctors. Life isn't complete without them.
My kids have both inherited their father's immune system unfortunately, so apart for a couple of times a year at the most I don't get the option to use my vast medicine cupboard. It's not that I'm not happy about it (what ever gave you that idea? The fact that the only time I get a cuddly Ron is when he is running a fever? Or the fact that I keep 3 bottles of Nurofen in the house at all times?), and it does mean that the expensive private medical insurance I am paying for since the kids were born has gone unused for years (Ron's last time at the doctors was about 3 years ago. Yon, when he was about a year old). But it does mean that the health problems we do get with them are always something quite severe and out of the ordinary, and then for me it's never a question - Doctor. Medicine. Now. It is true that Hidai, being the son of a doctor (the most untreated of all children) never rushes like me, but still I guess in some circles (you know, where normal people hang) we would be considered a bit too quick to treat. Mostly I think it's because we prefer the feeling of doing something, of treating, of solving, to the feeling of waiting. I don't do patience well, nor do I like to feel that my fate is in someone else's hands, or that I am not in control. Hidai likes the knowing. I like the control. And we both prefer action to waiting.

At the dentist

But all that is true when it comes to other people. When it comes to my health, well, then it's a different matter all together. When it comes to my health I always prefer the "let's wait and see" method, I don't like doctors when it's about me. Nor do I care for pain medication (the strong ones, not the regular ibuprofen they sell at the pharmacy and is known around here as candy), hospitals, tests, and results. I don't want to know. I know it sounds weird, but the way I see it, it will be something bad, something I will have to treat with more doctors and tests and procedures, so I really would like to not know.
It's not that it's an unfounded weariness of the whole medical profession. The truth is my joints have been deteriorating for years. First it was my knees, which started going down the hill when I was a teenager. I have spent so much time in doctors offices, x-rays, tests, physiotherapy, medical boards, and the likes when I was young, just to hear again and again that there is nothing anyone can do. I have somehow managed to get myself something that is called cartilage degeneration when I was about 19. I know you don't know what that is. It doesn't matter. What matters is that it's unfixable. Seeing as I was 19, I took it rather well, and stopped. No more doctors, no more tests, no more physio. I got back on my high-heels, and never looked back.
Then a few years back my hands joined the party, and I preferred to chuck it up to too much typing (I was working a lot of hours in those days typing away at my computer) and continue to ignore it all. Even after I hit my hand while cleaning and couldn't move my right hand for weeks (had to give up knitting after that). Even after I fell while doing Pilates because my hand couldn't support me. My reasoning was that when you ignore it, it usually goes away, and aside from an impressive collection of pain medicine and splinters, I lived my life like every other 80 years old - with the ability to forecast the rain.
Unfortunately I then moved to London and started blogging. The combination of the lovely weather here and the excessive typing of the last year and a half lead to me not being able to use most of my right hand, and some of my left also. It is a bit of a shame, as hands are quite important for normal day to day life, but why should I let it interfere with my usual avoidance and denial? It worked so well up until now. All it needed was just a few adjustments, you know no more knitting or kneading or opening jars. Nothing big. For some reason Hidai disagreed, and to cut a (very) long story short (and save you all the arguments we had in the middle) I got a referral to a physiotherapist, and for the first time in more than 15 years I was going to have someone look at my joints.

My hand

My new physiotherapist tested my hands (I was only sore for a week after that) and sent me to an EMG to see if I have carpal tunnel, which, according to the very lovely guy who did my test, I probably have in my left hand (and apparently this is what explains why I feel less pain in that hand). She also sent me to do a neck MRI. Obviously I assumed it is to make the diagnosis of MS. Or a tumour. It is not supposed to find any of those things, but you know, I come from a long line of hypochondriacs. It didn't help that the very nice guy who did my test wanted to run an extra scan and did not give me any indication of how it went, in fact he looked kind of hesitant when I asked him.

On my way to the MRI

I have three weeks to wait until I get my results. Three weeks of worrying what my MRI will show, and true to myself I am not really sure if I want to know. It will either be something horrible or untreatable.
But I am tired of walking around with my hands in bandages. And I am tired of the constant pain I am in. And I am tired of having to take days off because I can't move my hand. I am tired of having to think about every move I make because it could result in paralysing my hand, and of having to hide it from everyone all the time.
So maybe, just maybe, knowing would be good.