Every once in a while, I have an experience that is just too good not to blog about. Most of these experiences never make it to the blog due to the length of time it would take to create the post. However, tonight nothing else is begging for my attention and I must write this down for posterity's sake, if nothing else.
For the past month I've been having head aches. Well, not exactly head aches, but a numbing, tingling feeling behind my left ear. Not enough to hamper anything going on in my daily life nor to even take an Ibuprofen over. However, as the weeks progressed, the feelings continued, seemed to get worse and also were lingering longer and Brian and I began to get concerned.
There was no rhyme or reason to them. They started at different times of day and lasted different periods of time. Intensity varied greatly. Sometimes I could sleep them off, but most times I would wake up with the feelings still there. I asked one of my American friends, Brooke, and she got in contact with some of her friends, who recommended a neurologist across town.
However, they did not have his contact information, just the name of the referring doctor. When we contacted the referring doctor, he gave us the name of the neurologist, Dr. Magid and his address, but also told us that he wasn't currently answering his phone and that we should just show up at 6 pm Saturday night.
Of course. Seems reasonable, even to me.
Because Brooke's Arabic is miles ahead of mine, she is familiar with that area of town and because it was easier to leave my three busy little people with Brian, we decided she and I would go together. On Friday, we went to a clothing store in that area and we also drove by the Doctor's office to see what we could find out.
When we arrived, I jumped out of the car and spoke with the doorman who spoke Arabic rather quickly, but I understood enough to know that this was the right building, that Dr. Magid did indeed have an office there and that I should come back around 10:30 at night on Saturday.
Brooke and I decided to go with 6 pm instead.
At 6 pm, Saturday night, Brooke and I arrived at Dr. Magid's office. There was no light in the hallway and the door was closed. There were several signs in the vicinity and after puzzling over the Arabic, we realized that the office didn't open until 7 pm.
We took a walk down the street stopping at Starbucks and walking through Toy's R Us before heading back to the office. We spoke with the receptionist, well, she spoke with the receptionist while I caught a word every now and then. He told us to wait for a few minutes until he could speak with the Doctor.
After sitting in the waiting room for about 10 minutes, we were called back to the desk and asked to make an appointment for Sunday night, between 7 pm and 12 pm. We chose 8pm. He asked for my name, telephone number and 200 pounds.
Sunday night we drove back and arrived around 7:55, but the lights were on and the door was open, so we were initially excited. When we walked in, one of the receptionists was doing his prayers on a mat on the floor and no one else was in the room, so we took a seat to wait. He finished his prayers around the same time the receptionist we had spoken to on Saturday night came back in the room.
No one said anything to us, so we just chatted for a few moments. But then the receptionist broke in and asked if we spoke Arabic and so we chatted for about 10 minutes before Brooke asked him where all the people were. "Oh, they will come at 9:00," he said. "But the Doctor, he is here." She said. "No, he is coming at 9:00." "But we made an appointment with you for 8:00." "No," he insisted, and so we asked to see where he had written our names down.
Turns out, we were on a list of people to be seen at 9:00. Sixth from the top. "But don't worry," he said, "you will be moved up because these people aren't coming," as he pointed to a few names crossed out.
So we left to walk down the street again to wait for our "8:00 appointment."
Five minutes until 9:00 we were back in our seats in the waiting room along with a few other people. We felt very lucky indeed when about 10 minutes later we were called back to meet the Doctor.
And here, my loyal friends, is where it gets interesting.
Brooke and I met Dr. Magid and we first settled on a language to converse in. He spoke beautiful English, so that was a plus for me. He asked the basic questions, if I had had any recent head trauma, if I had migraines, etc, etc. I explained the problem to him.
He asked me to sit on a table/couch type thing where he proceeded to give me what seemed to me a very odd examination. Granted, my examinations by doctors typically have a pregnancy test involved, so I don't exactly know what a neurologist is supposed to do. But this seemed... random to me.
He held my hands and had me push, pull and push side to side against his hands. He told me to stretch my hands in front of me and open and close my fingers. Then he told me to close my eyes and touch my finger to my nose, twice with each hand.
Then he checked reflex's (which made sense), but by the time he told me to take point my toes and take the heel of my right foot and touch my left knee and then run my heel down the length of my calf to my left foot and then do the same left to right... I was barely keeping my amusement inside. And then, my friend Brooke, whom I was steadfastly avoiding making eye contact with in order to control my desire to giggle,snickered. Excuse me, she let out a smothered giggle. Thankfully, for me, the doctor was by this time, running a metal rod up the bottom of my foot and her "smothered giggle" combined with my ticklesh feet, allowed me to somewhat gracefully (I dearly hope) let out a nervous giggle.
He then turned the lights out and used a small light to check my eyes. Which made good sense to me.
But when the lights were back on, he asked me to go stand against the wall, facing him. Then he directed me to tiptoe towards him. Yes, he said tiptoe. Actually, looked at him, wondering if we were having a communication barrier and asked, "tiptoe?" Yes, I had heard correctly.
So I tiptoed.
Then he asked me to turn around and walk on my heels away from him.
Then he had me walk a straight line. Just like a sobriety test in the States.
I passed.
After the examination, he said that it seemed that everything was fine and that my feelings in my head were "tension headaches". His recommendation was that I take a vacation to American and that would cure me.
He also ordered an MRI to be done on my brain.
But that will have to wait for another post.... because this one is long enough :)
For the past month I've been having head aches. Well, not exactly head aches, but a numbing, tingling feeling behind my left ear. Not enough to hamper anything going on in my daily life nor to even take an Ibuprofen over. However, as the weeks progressed, the feelings continued, seemed to get worse and also were lingering longer and Brian and I began to get concerned.
There was no rhyme or reason to them. They started at different times of day and lasted different periods of time. Intensity varied greatly. Sometimes I could sleep them off, but most times I would wake up with the feelings still there. I asked one of my American friends, Brooke, and she got in contact with some of her friends, who recommended a neurologist across town.
However, they did not have his contact information, just the name of the referring doctor. When we contacted the referring doctor, he gave us the name of the neurologist, Dr. Magid and his address, but also told us that he wasn't currently answering his phone and that we should just show up at 6 pm Saturday night.
Of course. Seems reasonable, even to me.
Because Brooke's Arabic is miles ahead of mine, she is familiar with that area of town and because it was easier to leave my three busy little people with Brian, we decided she and I would go together. On Friday, we went to a clothing store in that area and we also drove by the Doctor's office to see what we could find out.
When we arrived, I jumped out of the car and spoke with the doorman who spoke Arabic rather quickly, but I understood enough to know that this was the right building, that Dr. Magid did indeed have an office there and that I should come back around 10:30 at night on Saturday.
Brooke and I decided to go with 6 pm instead.
At 6 pm, Saturday night, Brooke and I arrived at Dr. Magid's office. There was no light in the hallway and the door was closed. There were several signs in the vicinity and after puzzling over the Arabic, we realized that the office didn't open until 7 pm.
We took a walk down the street stopping at Starbucks and walking through Toy's R Us before heading back to the office. We spoke with the receptionist, well, she spoke with the receptionist while I caught a word every now and then. He told us to wait for a few minutes until he could speak with the Doctor.
After sitting in the waiting room for about 10 minutes, we were called back to the desk and asked to make an appointment for Sunday night, between 7 pm and 12 pm. We chose 8pm. He asked for my name, telephone number and 200 pounds.
Sunday night we drove back and arrived around 7:55, but the lights were on and the door was open, so we were initially excited. When we walked in, one of the receptionists was doing his prayers on a mat on the floor and no one else was in the room, so we took a seat to wait. He finished his prayers around the same time the receptionist we had spoken to on Saturday night came back in the room.
No one said anything to us, so we just chatted for a few moments. But then the receptionist broke in and asked if we spoke Arabic and so we chatted for about 10 minutes before Brooke asked him where all the people were. "Oh, they will come at 9:00," he said. "But the Doctor, he is here." She said. "No, he is coming at 9:00." "But we made an appointment with you for 8:00." "No," he insisted, and so we asked to see where he had written our names down.
Turns out, we were on a list of people to be seen at 9:00. Sixth from the top. "But don't worry," he said, "you will be moved up because these people aren't coming," as he pointed to a few names crossed out.
So we left to walk down the street again to wait for our "8:00 appointment."
Five minutes until 9:00 we were back in our seats in the waiting room along with a few other people. We felt very lucky indeed when about 10 minutes later we were called back to meet the Doctor.
And here, my loyal friends, is where it gets interesting.
Brooke and I met Dr. Magid and we first settled on a language to converse in. He spoke beautiful English, so that was a plus for me. He asked the basic questions, if I had had any recent head trauma, if I had migraines, etc, etc. I explained the problem to him.
He asked me to sit on a table/couch type thing where he proceeded to give me what seemed to me a very odd examination. Granted, my examinations by doctors typically have a pregnancy test involved, so I don't exactly know what a neurologist is supposed to do. But this seemed... random to me.
He held my hands and had me push, pull and push side to side against his hands. He told me to stretch my hands in front of me and open and close my fingers. Then he told me to close my eyes and touch my finger to my nose, twice with each hand.
Then he checked reflex's (which made sense), but by the time he told me to take point my toes and take the heel of my right foot and touch my left knee and then run my heel down the length of my calf to my left foot and then do the same left to right... I was barely keeping my amusement inside. And then, my friend Brooke, whom I was steadfastly avoiding making eye contact with in order to control my desire to giggle,
He then turned the lights out and used a small light to check my eyes. Which made good sense to me.
But when the lights were back on, he asked me to go stand against the wall, facing him. Then he directed me to tiptoe towards him. Yes, he said tiptoe. Actually, looked at him, wondering if we were having a communication barrier and asked, "tiptoe?" Yes, I had heard correctly.
So I tiptoed.
Then he asked me to turn around and walk on my heels away from him.
Then he had me walk a straight line. Just like a sobriety test in the States.
I passed.
After the examination, he said that it seemed that everything was fine and that my feelings in my head were "tension headaches". His recommendation was that I take a vacation to American and that would cure me.
He also ordered an MRI to be done on my brain.
But that will have to wait for another post.... because this one is long enough :)
sounds like every neurologist appointment I've ever had and I've had many, at least one a year.:-)
ReplyDeletebut I could see how it would be odd and funny if you've never been to one before ;-)
correction, just the exam part sounds the same, not the whole 9pm appointment intro part. :-P
ReplyDelete