Waiting room bargaining

It’s called waiting room bargaining.

It starts with a twinge, a dull ache, a singular short sharp pain.

It induces unease, rapid heart rate, dooms day thoughts, strange phantom pains in other random places and excessively unhealthy googling.

Dr Google escalates it to cancer, amputation and death.

And then suddenly there you are, in the waiting room, praying to a god you didn’t believe in yesterday, that you will do that strength training, take those supplements, even call your mother if that’s what it will take, for this something to be a nothing.

Sounds dramatic, but I know you’ve done it.

Promises that you’ll eat better, volunteer more, go to church more, “enter thing you don’t want to do but think it will earn you brownie points with the universe” thing here if you, the universe, god, Jesus, Mohammad, Beyoncé, will only save…. my running future.

I noticed said twinge late last week and I know that particular twinge way too well.

Pelvic stress fractures.

I didn’t have the best experience last time I was injured.

I had never been injured before and never used any health or sports service. No physio, osteo, massage, nothing. I didn’t have, and still don’t have, a regular GP. I never needed one.

I felt like every “professional” I went to dismissed what I was saying and had me do silly exercises and stretches and take pain relief until the issue went away. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure what they were doing had scientific backing, but they werent listening to what I was saying.

Safe to say, it didn’t just go away, it got worse with every one I saw.

As a result, it took much longer to be diagnosed than I would have liked.

In the long run, did the extra weeks make any difference? No, My A race was never going to be saved but I could have done without the self doubt, the additional pain and the extra weeks not running.

So when I felt said twinge, I knew something was wrong. Not a little bit wrong, a lot wrong. Straight away I googled the osteo who solved the problem last time, only to find she was on maternity leave, so the next best option was to book into the place where she works.

My experienced was mixed. I went in to get a referral for an MRI. MRI’s cost a lot of money but they provide answers. I was told that my diagnosis was probably wrong and they he didn’t agree with it and wouldn’t give me the referral for the MRI but would give me one for an X-ray. Great, but last time the stress fractures didn’t show up on an X-ray. I felt completely dismissed and ignored.

I get it, I’m not the expert, and no one likes someone coming in and telling them how to do their job, but I know my body and I’m the one paying for the MRI, if I want one, give me one.

Instead I was told exactly what I was wanted, there is nothing wrong, we’ll get an x ray to confirm, just keep running.

Well it’s been a week and that twinge is still there.

I have another appointment on Thursday, which will make it two weeks since the odd feeling started.

I’ll be asking for that MRI again.

Because I’m not negotiating, I’m not bargaining or begging. I want answers, not platitudes.

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