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On Tue, 3 Aug 1999, Jacqueline D. Richardson wrote: > --- Michel Margosis wrote: > You should see a 'Movement Disorder Specialist' and not a mechanic...Please! > --- end of quote --- > > Now, I'm not sure of that <<g>. I think a good mechanic could do more for my > husband than the doctor that diagnosed him is doing. I'm making an appointment > with another doc asap. I work at the same medical center as my husband's doc > and I e-mailed him last Friday morning (and I did a return receipt so I know it > was opened Friday morning) about the side affects my husband has been > experiencing with the latest increase in his meds and asked that he call me > here at work and so far it is noon on Tuesday and I still haven't heard from > him.... Trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, I just called his office > to see if he was on vacation but he isn't... Aren't they lovely... I spent more than an hour talking to a guy yesterday evening; he had experienced tremor and stiffness for 2+ years before going to a neuro in May. Coming there, he got the usual array of tests, but no CT or MRI. In early June, he had a new visit to discuss the findings, and the doc just said: "Take these (Madopar 25/100), one half in the morning and one half in the evening, and if that works you have Parkinson's disease. I'll schedule you for a new visit in mid August, when I'm back from my vacation. If you have any problems, there's an answering-machine, and I'll get back to you after hearing your message." END OF STORY! The idiot doc gives him pills, and in effect leaves the guy for himself for two months! So, what does he do? He of course goes to the library and gets medical textbooks about PD, reading it all and believing that it will all happen to him within the next year. You can imagine his state when he called me yesterday... He crash-landed at the hospital psychiatric ward after a few weeks, where they took away the Madopar (which worked nicely, thankyouverymuch) and gave him antidepressives of a kind I've never heard of. They made him worse, of course. *sigh* So, after convincing him that he wouldn't die, he wouldn't have to lie down flat and stop living, I told him to call the hospital again to discuss why they had taken away the Madopar, and to see if the anti-depressive med is the best they can offer... I also gave him the phone number to my neuro, so that he can get care from somebody better... This makes me feel like "A good iron pipe can make a striking difference in (for?!) people's attitudes". (Freely translated from one of my old favourite comics. ) /John. (30 now/ 28 dx/ 18 onset)