My medical travails continue.
On Tuesday things were looking up. I got a message on my phone at work that another doctor (My doctor is off all week.) had looked at my chart and had e-mailed the podiatrist to see if he could expedite my appointment since my toes were infected and waiting until July 26 to address the problem wouldn't be the best medical decision in the world.
In the meantime, my friend Cindy, who is a nurse, and had worked at Shepherd Center, and has experience with skin sores decided that maybe while we were waiting for my problem to work its way through the serpent that my HMO has become she should go ahead and start a chemical debriding. (I am so embarrassed. I spelled it "debreeding" in my original post. Ralph Gizzip, of all people, not someone known for tact, spelled it debriding without pointing out what an idiot I am.)
Cindy came by Tuesday afternoon and devised a method where she cut a hole in DuoDerm the size of the sore and placed it on each toe. The DuoDerm was to protect the good skin from the debriding solution. Then she mixed up a solution, soaked some gauze in it, and put it over each sore and covered it with Opsite. Voila! Chemical debriding. (She actually got an award for inventing this procedure.) She figgered by the time my HMO had resolved my problem, the sores would have already been debrided and well on their way to healing.
While Cindy was performing the medical procedure, my phone rang. It was Renata from the podiatrists office.
Renata: Mr. Wilson this is Renata. What do we need to see you for?
Me: I need to have two sores on my toes debrided.
Renata: The podiatrist don't do no debriding.
Me: Duh! That's what I've been trying to explain to people.
Renata: I'm gonna have to transfer you over to surgery.
Me: That's a good choice since that was what the referral was originally written for.
Ping.
A half an hour later the phone rang again. This time it was Janice from surgery.
Janice: Mr. Wilson what do you need to have done?
Me: I need to have two infected sores debrided. My doctor wrote a surgical referral for that.
Janice: Well, since it was on the foot we referred it to the podiatrist.
Me: The foot part is not the issue. It's the sores.
Janice: I know you think we're giving you the run around, but we want to try and ensure that we do the right thing.
Me: Does that include delaying my care so the problem only gets worse while I'm waiting for you guys to make a decision?
Janice: Dr. Lee is in surgery now, but when he gets out, we'll discuss the matter and make a decision as to what we're gonna do.
Pong.
I took Wednesday afternoon off to take care of some business and also go down to where Cindy worked so she could change my dressing.
I told the receptionist I was here to see Cindy and she paged her. After waiting 10 minutes and no Cindy, I got out my cellphone and called her. She answered and I told her I was out in reception. She was only 20 feet away. She hadn't heard the page.
She changed the dressing and I was off to Green's to pick up some wine for Thursday's tasting. BTW. Not much of a blog Thursday night since I'm going to Fuego for a Spanish wine tasting. As usual, I'll post the menu and the wines.
I got home and there was a message on my answering machine to call Daria at my HMO. While I was writing down her number, Renata called on my cellphone. Holy shit! I'm being tag teamed. Renata asked me what they needed to see me for? I told her. She remembered. I told her Daria called. Daria was her supervisor so she told me to call her.
Ping.
I called Daria and got her voicemail. I told her I was returning her call and I didn't really have a clue as to what was going on, did they?
Pong.
Right after I hung up from Daria's voicemail, Renata called back and said the podiatrist could see me next Friday. I was going through my song and dance about how my foot wasn't getting any better and Friday wasn't really acceptable when darned if Daria didn't call me.
So now I have Renata on my cellphone and Daria on my home phone.
Ping. Pong. Ping. Pong. Ping. Pong. WTF is going on? I am so confused!
Since Daria outranked Renata, I told Renata I was gonna let Daria handle it.
I got to go through my song and dance (With one bad foot, no less.) one more time about how it's the sore that's the thing and not the foot. Since Daria is the clinical supervisor for both surgery and podiatry she explained that surgery really thought that the podiatrist should look at my foot first. She also told me the podiatrist could see me at 2:00 on Friday.
After what has gone on so far this week I don't think I need a surgical or podiatry referral. I think what I really need is a psychatric referral.
These people have driven me nuts!