Chapter 17

I’m awake. A co-worker takes the kids to school. Dave asks me what my goals are for the appointment with the new neurologist. I try to tell him, but get frustrated. I thrust the three pages of intake papers into his hand. I direct him to the third page where I have carefully outlined, in numerical order, my goals and questions for the visit.

1. What DID the EEG show? I already know what it did not show.
2. What does the EEG show when my body had a stronger episode?
3. I know I will get better, but what about a recurrence?
4. When can I drive?
5. Last night my whole body was buzzing like pins and needles, what’s going on? Should I be concerned?
6. What about going back to work?

Dave silently reads. He agrees with my goals. Thank goodness because I’m not really up for discussing further. I’m tired. My body hurts. The lack of sleep means everything is a little worse than the day before — the twitches, the speech, the tremors. Dave checks Google Maps for traffic and we decide to leave. It will take about an hour to get to the doctor.

We drive and listen to “This American Life.” We arrive at Danish Swiss Alps Hospital. The nurses are on strike. In the pouring rain, they march and chant. I support the nurses and feel bad walking through the picket line. The entrances are all closed except the main entrance and oncology. Inside the hospital, the Starbucks is closed due to strike. A folding table is set up to greet visitors and create their own name tags for during the visit. I sense the hospital is nervous with the strikers outside.

We find the neurology department. My principal knows the doctor. When this all started, Rick asked, “What do you need?”

I responded, “Do you know any neurologists?” I think he was a little surprised by my answer. Sitting in my living room, he thought for a moment and immediately texted a former colleague for the contact info of the doctor. Rick then began texting and emailing with the doctor. Rick told us to call and make an appointment.

When Dave originally called, we were given a 1 month wait. Within hours of scheduling, Dave got a call back telling us we would be seen the next week. Sometimes it makes a difference to be honest and say exactly what you need.

We’ve been asked to arrive 30 minutes early. We check-in and I start to fill out more forms. I barely begin when my name is called. What?

“There was nobody before you. The doctor is just waiting for you, ” says the medical assistance. Okay….this is different. The nurse takes my vitals and tells me the doctor will be in shortly. She is not lying.

Moments later, Dr. McIrish and another doctor, family practice, enter the room. Dr. McIrish is probably in his late 50s, early 60s. His light brown hair, flecked with gray, is beginning to bald. Dr. FP, young with round glasses, stands quietly to the side. Apparently, I’m interesting enough to warrant an audience. Not only are my facial twitches going strong, my right is in full jazz hand mode while the left grips the arm of the chair, causing me to gently rock back and forth.

Dr. McIrish greets Dave and me. Dave sits next to me. He is allowed to be there as long as he does not speak until I tell him. Dr. McIrish sits and asks me to tell him what has happened. I give him a full run down, trying to not editorialize too much. Both doctors listen intently. It’s a little weird to be in a room talking to a group of men about my IUD and cervical blocks..

Dr. McIrish asks Dave if he has anything to add. I tell him he may speak now. Dave admits I have pretty much covered it. He does stress I was “normal” before all this.

Then Dr. McIrish brings up my MRI scans. No one showed us these before. He walks us through the scans, explaining the purpose of each and what they do/don’t show. He informs me that I have a very youthful 40 year old brain. I’m pleased.

Dr. McIrish then performs of thorough exam of my senses and motor function. It is more than the push/pull/grab fingers/lift legs the other neurologist did. I recognize some of them from Dr. McHH (good job Dr. McHH). He asks permission to remove my shoes and socks. Sure, it’s your funeral. During the test, I realize it may be time to get my eyes checked again….

Finally, we sit back down. Dr. FP is still standing silently in the corner, just watching and listening. Dr. McIrish is ready to share what he thinks is the problem. Oh my gosh, you mean you are actually going to talk to me!?! Both Dave and I are educated people. Talk to us like we are capable of understanding. Dr. McIrish begins to patiently explain how the brain/nervous system works. He uses scientific terms, like “neurotransmitters.” I am following. Thank you for trusting us.

Dr. McIrish explains that my brain basically went haywire after the lidocaine toxicity and my nervous system is stuck in a flight or flight response. This is basically what I have felt was happening. He gives me a diagnosis, Functional Movement Disorder.

A functional movement disorder, is not unlike Parkinson’s, but is luckily not degenerative. I will get better, but it will take time. It has only been two weeks. He prescribes me gabapentin. Hopefully, this will relax the tremors/twitches without having same knockout effect of Ativan. Unlike Antivan, this drug is not habit forming. Relief washes over me. I will start by taking it at night to see how I respond. From there I can increase up to 3 times a day.

In addition to a new drug, Dr. McIrish refers me for FND therapy (Functional Neurological Disorder) to retrain my brain. Unfortunately, it is a very specialized program, only available at Danish Blueberry Mound. Dave and I both make a face. He offers to do a little asking around to see if there is any programs being offered closer to us. Dr. McIrish asks us to check in with him in two days to see what he finds.

I ask about recurrence and when I can drive. The gabapentin should help with the tremors and twitches during the day once I start taking it more than at night. I currently don’t drive since I can’t promise to keep my eyes open and I feel like I owe it to everyone else in the world to not drive until I can.

Dr. McIrish explains that this injury is like when someone has knee surgery. You hurt your knee, you have surgery, and then you feel better. But sometimes, you go a little too hard, and your knee gives you problems. My brain will do the same thing. Once the problems resolve, if I go too hard, am fatigued, or too stressed, I will probably see the twitches, the tremors, the speech difficulties come back.

Hmmm. This may require a re-ordering of my life. I’m a middle school teacher, a teacher leader, math coordinator, and the person in charge of math team. I have 3 kids. Three kids who all have extra needs. My own doctor noted I rarely go a week without one of them having a doctor’s appointment. Add in weekly speech therapy, soccer practice, and swim lessons…..Yeah. Should not be a big deal to reduce stress in my life.

I float my idea of slowly going back to work. Dr. McIrish agrees this is a good idea, to slowly flex my brain without over extending it. He asks about my ability to work remotely. Ha ha ha. I make a mental note to set up a meeting with my principal to talk about how I can return to work safely.

Dave and I thank Dr. McIrish and Dr. FP. My heart feels lighter. It’s hard to explain the joyful feelings we both experienced walking back to the car. I read my After Visit Health Summary later. The visit was 110 minutes long. I feel guilty.

In the car we listen to another episode of “This American Life.” It’s about a couple reunited after divorce. Dave and I have never been on the brink of divorce, but something in the story resonates. I know it does with Dave too because he takes my hand.

Dave reflects on the good that has come out of the experience. We’ve realized what truly supportive, community we have. We’ve learned to accept help. More so, this whole thing has made him realize just how much he loves me. I melt just a little.