The Appointment

Sally and I went to the doctor appointment yesterday and described everything to three different levels of doctor people. Their expert conclusion: I have headaches. I'm so glad we paid them for that!

On the bright-ish side, all the tests show no physical damage to my brain. Of course, because those are the only empirical tests the doctor people had available to them, their theories were nearly as unmoored in hard science as mine, so they recommended a course of "treatment" hopefully based on experience in the headache-treating arena.

I'm on a very low dose of some D-word drug normally prescribed for depression (my dosage is 10mg, depression dosage is usually 150mg) for a month to see if it works. A month. If it works, yay. If not, I may be this retarded for four more weeks and no closer to an answer. If it sorta works, we tweak the dosage.

I appreciate the openness of the Main Doctor when he says he's not 100% sure that this D-stuff is The Answer. I appreciate the low-wattage trial dosage to reduce the chances of my trading one horrid headfuck for another. I also have never heard of headaches being a core problem rather than a symptom - but I don't get paid for hearing about nerve/head problems and presumably he does.

I'm no fan of being a pincushion for the pharmaceutical industry, but I'm less of a fan of being a moaning zombie, a danger to driving society, and a burden to my family. Since Doctor Man laid what few cards any of us have on the table, I'm willing to play.

More later.