Wednesday, September 21, 2011

The Story I Promised and More

The Story

Okay, remember how I promised a cool little synchronicity story? Well, here it is:

Not too long ago, my son and I were traveling by car and I got us lost. Really lost. Like, we'd only been about five minutes from home when I thought I'd take a simpler route back to the main road we needed and we ended up driving for almost an hour.

I drove us through every little town in the area - many of which I'd heard of, but had never actually been to. The roads we traveled were mostly residential, so I wasn't able to pop into 7-11 and ask for directions. Panic was starting to set in when one of us changed the radio station. And here's what we heard, courtesy of Bob Marley:

Don't worry about a thing.
Every little thing's gonna be all right.
No, don't worry about a thing.
Every little thing's gonna be all right, now.

I started to laugh, and I looked at my son and said, "I wonder if he's singing that to me." Now, it had been a long time since I'd heard the song, so I really didn't know what was coming next (though I admit the lyrics may have been buried in my subconscious).

"Mom," said my son a minute later. I glanced over and he nodded toward the radio.

This is my message to you.

Just then we had to merge onto a multilane thoroughfare, which always makes me nervous. But traffic was fairly clear and I had no trouble navigating, and as soon as we were on the road, I saw an exit sign to a highway I recognized. I made the right guess when I had to choose between going left or right, and we were home between ten and fifteen minutes later.

Other News

I saw a new doctor this week, and the story behind that appointment is itself more than a little synchronistic. Turns out that one of the very few experts in the world in sodium channel disorders is only five minutes down the road from me. Really. He's in a business park right beside Walmart.

I got his name from a woman on a periodic paralysis listserve who drives her daughter up from North Carolina to see him. When I told him I got his name from a woman who drives in from North Carolina, he said, "Oh, that's not the farthest. Hmm, what's the farthest? One person comes in from a ship on the Caribbean. Oh, and one guy comes in from Utah."

I deal with symptoms for almost fifteen years before I get a diagnosis, and when I do get one, for something very rare, I'm just a stone's throw away from one of the most experienced doctors in the field? Amazing.

Two other really cool things about the appointment: the doctor was really nice, and getting on the schedule didn't take long at all. Most neurologists around here seem to have to schedule three months out or more.

The good doctor really seemed to understand what I was saying about my shoulder, and he also has a theory about why even deep tissue massage doesn't seem to have an effect: he thinks the muscle worst affected runs under my shoulder blade.

He's adding to my medication, and although he said that whether it would help is pretty much a crapshoot (my word, not his), I'm really hoping this will do it. Hey, much stranger things have happened to me than taking medications that have worked as expected, right?

No comments:

Post a Comment