Health - the Sequel

Today I had my shoulder examined by an orthopedic surgeon at UPMC Sports Medicine. According to the scheduler I spoke with last week, my doctor is an authority on shoulders, that is almost all he does and he is very good at it. According to several of his biographies, this particular doctor is also an assistant professor at the University of Pittsburgh Medical School and one of the Penguins' team physicians. According to one of our friends, who works as a sales representative for a company that produces joint replacement parts (seriously), he is highly respected and has his interns do a lot of the work.

I liked him. He was very clinical and extremely professional, almost to the point of coldness. Yet he managed to come across as a nice man, possibly due to the fact that he had to tie the back of my gown closed.* Which he did, in a very professional, business-like manner and surprisingly gentle manner.

He had an intern with him, also a man, whose primary function seem to be to observe and neatly print out the doctor's scripts.** I found the interaction between the two highly entertaining, as I sensed that the intern was restraining a large part of his personality in deference to the authority in the room.

The diagnosis was a torn rotator cuff, severity to be determined upon the completion of the MRI. Fraying will mean physical therapy, a hole or significant tearing will surgery. I was instructed to call and leave a message with his secretary after I had the MRI, as he suspected that the damage was minor and would only require physical therapy, which meant I would not have to see him again.

The MRI is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon.

And insurance continues to be a headache. As my first round of blood tests was (tragically) normal, my GP has decided to send me for a set of CT scans, just to be thorough. My attempt to schedule the scans was thwarted when I was informed that my insurance required pre-authorization. No magic number, no appointment.

*Moment Number One: I was instructed before the exam to tie the gown halter style around my neck, so my shoulders would remain bare. Somewhere between the telling and my brain's translation, the idea that I also needed to tie the back of the gown was lost.
**Moment Number Two: The script for my MRI was made out to my GP. I politely pointed out to the intern that my GP would probably disagree with the need to have an MRI and perhaps he could correct the name. Which he, highly embarrassed, did immediately.