Oh, yes! Done! Yesterday is just that… yesterday.
One thing about me is I loathe medical appointments. Even more now, that they are a huge part of our lives. I’ve been known to get a bit cranky when the appointment time passes. Some might call me downright annoying.
For the record, I seldom blame the doctor. To me, this is an administrative function. Nothing more than sloppy staff work. When I would take the children there was not much I could do about it. I’d wait it out. When it was for me, well, that’s a whole different ball game.
My rule of thumb is to never wait more than 30 minutes past my appointment time. I give fair warning at the 15 minute mark that I simply cannot wait too much longer. At 30 minutes I promptly reschedule. If really irritated, I’ve been known to bill them at the same fee they charge for a missed appointment. Funny, they never pay. I swear, it should be in the patient’s Bill of Rights to be treated promptly.
My experience at Johns Hopkins was not pleasant, granted. Still, Ryan was treated well. That’s really the only thing that matters. And, when I reflect on the day it was just a cascading effect. A domino string that started when I walked through the doors.
Here’s my gripe though. They made us crazy getting paperwork together. It consumed so much time (Sue handled this). I cannot express my utter disappointment that they did not exercise the same diligence. Or, at least a minimal amount. So, it really wasn’t the working staff yesterday to blame (although they felt the brunt of my ire). It was… are you ready… the administration. Nothing was ready for his visit. Well, almost nothing. They did have his name, birthday, primary care physician, and ordering doctor. But, that was all. Not even their contact information. I was told a “book” should have been prepared prior to our arrival. The book was prepared after-the-fact, causing significant delay.
Fortunate for me (and Hopkins, I’d suggest) I was in the company of a wonderful man, Tom McLhinney. Tom’s son, Brian, was the other boy attacked. Like Ryan, he never threw a punch. Like Ryan, he was defenseless. He was unconscious from Vantrease’s punch before he even hit the ground. His jaw broke his fall, breaking it. He had gravel embedded in his face and blood streaming down.
Brian had his mouth wired for months. He had to live in an apartment alone, constantly reminded of Ryan as he passed his room. That had to be hard and from what I heard yesterday, it was and continues to be so to this day.
The MRI scan will be sent to IBRF in New Jersey. From there, they will review it and pass it along to have a digital 3-D image of Ryan’s brain built.
Once this 3-D model is complete, it will be used to simulated certain treatments. They will be able to know, with reasonable certainty, how certain stimuli will affect a neuro-pathway and those downstream.
Despite all the frustration, it was worth it to experience yesterday. It allows us to continue moving forward with Ryan’s care. I’m not sure what I’d do if I ever felt we reached the end of the road. I never want to be “not moving forward”.