Last week I walked into my doctor’s office prepared to fight.  To say that something was wrong and insist on an effective method of treatment.  After all, headaches leave little outward sign.  I planned assertiveness, not unhelpful arguing.  My doctor looked at me and suddenly there were tests and phone calls to new and old doctors.  The good news:  prescription painkillers which actually stop the pain.

I left my doctor’s office after another MRI and with an appointment to go back to see First Neurosurgeon.  Despite all of my time in this world of doctors and images of my brain, this was new territory for me.  I didn’t know where my old landmarks are yet.  I didn’t know what to fear or anticipate.  The good news was that First Neurosurgeon didn’t see any of his problems (infection, hemorahaging, or regrowth).  The bad news is that my head still hurt and no one had a solution to this problem.

This week is phone tag with Nuerosurgeon #4 (who over-saw radiation treatment).  Next week is an appointment with my eye doctor (to address the double vision which is coming with the headache). 

I don’t know what will happen.  I don’t know what is wrong.  And all of my doctors are pointing me to new doctors.  Which is even less reassuring than “I don’t know”, or any of it’s variations.  I want an answer.  Mostly because I want the pain to go away.  Or be managed.  I want to stop seeing my world in blurry edges or doubles.  I want the headaches to stop keeping me from my life.  I want an answer.  I need an answer.  

I don’t know what is going to happen.  And I’m scared.