Spring always comes late in Cleveland, usually after winter gives up in early April, blanketing us in one last layer of snow up through which the crocuses and tulips are popping.
The quality of the care of the doctors I have seen has greatly increased. Incredible bedside manners, genuine compassion. Most are very good at what they do.
None of them knows more about EDS than I do and none of them know where to begin. Has anyone out there had to train their doctor? It's troublesome, because I don't really know. I am deeply, deeply acquainted with my disorder and my knowledge, wedded to my natural intuition extends a great distance.
But I'm not a doctor. Just a girl who grew and went to art school with the aim of writing a few above average books and teaching her passion to kids. Not...whatever it is I'm doing now.
Resizing the ring splint for my right index finger. Again. Waiting for my Walk-Easy crutches to come in, having come to conclusion that...I can't walk farther than a 1/2 mile.
January sucked. I want to make February better if I can. Some people (who may well be right) have suggested dropping everything and outsourcing my care to nearest EDS metropolis; in my case, this would be Cincinnati. A long and tiresome drive down I-71 to be sure, but, doable, and as an added bonus, still in the state of Ohio and thus covered by Ohio's insurance for folks like me currently under the heel of life.
And maybe a step toward turning things around.