Our day at the pain management clinic yesterday didn’t go quite the way we planned. For those who aren’t regular followers of my blog, my husband, Studly Doright, has been battling severe sciatic pain for nearly a month now. He hasn’t been able to sleep and his appetite is out of whack. He’s not been a happy camper and to paraphrase a popular saying, if Studly ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.
He’d gotten to see a highly regarded neurosurgeon on Monday who recommended that Studly give the pain management route a try before resorting to the surgical option, and subsequently scheduled an appointment for Studly with his colleagues in that office. Both Studly and I thought that he’d be getting an injection at the pain management appointment on Wednesday morning.
Wrong. It was merely a consultation. I thought I might cry when the pain management doc said he’d be able to schedule an appointment for next week. But my Studly wasn’t going to be put off that easily. He asked what it would take to push the procedure through on that day.
It didn’t look promising. There were insurance pre-approvals to consider as well as scheduling issues. It seemed impossible, but Studly convinced them to try. Lo and behold the surgical center had a cancellation for that afternoon, leaving a spot open. But they still didn’t think the insurance pre-approval could happen. Studly said it didn’t matter. He wanted to proceed regardless.
So at three yesterday afternoon Studly went in for a minor procedure that lasted approximately 10 minutes and has already offered relief; although, he’s been cautioned not to expect the full effects of the procedure to kick in for another few days. Oh, and miracle of miracles, the insurance company approved the procedure. Unheard of!
As I typed this yesterday evening, he was in bed snoring happily. That was the best part of the day. I never thought his snores could sound so sweet. Thanks for listening to our saga. I needed to write it even if it’s not the most spine-tingling story.