The medical assistant led me into exam room 1 and said, "I'm just going to get some information from you before the doctor comes in."
I knew the drill. I've been a frequent flyer at the orthopedic office for many years.
"So, it's your wrist? What do you think it is?"
I let out a little laugh, "Well, I'm going to say it's some kind of 'itis'- tendonitis or arthritis."
My favorite doctor came in a little later and moved my hand and wrist in all kinds of directions. He then sent me off to the x-ray room to get "some film."
The results came back quickly and the doctor returned to go over the X-rays with me.
"Yup, it looks like Arthur got you. As you predicted, it's arthritis."
Apparently, arthritis runs in my family because it seems like ever since I turned 50 that diagnosis comes up often.
Doctor M. prescribed some anti-inflammatories, injected some cortisone in the joint to calm it down, and sent me on my way.
"As always, thank you," I smiled, "Hopefully, you won't see me again too soon."
You write about this visit and diagnosis with such good humor! I hope I can be that good natured on my future appointments. I love the dialogue you describe.
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