pol′ē-ra-dik′yū-lop′ă-thē

Healthcare is no laughing matter, it’s a joke. Having not been “officially” to a doctor’s office since 1983 ( when I snuck out of my parent’s house late at night to go reek havoc in the WB, and upon returning forgot to put the window back in it’s proper place, so the window fell on my head later that night while I was sleeping causing me to black out, bleed profusely, almost end up a vegetable, and get many stitches in my head) I thought I would document the experience this time around…..

Part 1 : the waiting room ( 15 minutes)
Part 2 : more waiting ( 21 minutes)
( shouldn’t this be occupied?)
     ( apprehension, pain, wonderment, stress,
all outlined in my expression)
Part 3 : Preliminary Diagnosis  – T11-12 Polyradiculopathy is what the Doc tells me as he non-chalently points to the object below…. ( 1.5 minutes)
But what does it all mean, I ask thru fear and pain filled eyes? That is a good question, he responds…….( 30 seconds and I was out the door….)
more to come…..

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?