Today is my first appointment with a new neurologist. I was meant to have another appointment with my wonderful consultant on the 29th of this month. I had a phone call the other day telling me he had left earlier than planned and that my appointment needed to be bumped up to 3:40pm today. So here I am now sat in the café of the hospital, coffee in hand, desperately trying to not freak out.
I brought one of my favourite books with me, Twilight, to help pass the time. However sitting here observing other patients around me, who are also in various states of unease, I can’t help but feel trapped. I know that my anxiety is mostly likely heightened by those around me, yet even knowing that doesn’t quiet the voices in my head. Will this be one of an endless list of consultants? Will he give me the time to ask my questions? Will he aggravate my CRPS?
My first thought is to leave, and hop on the next train home, and just put up with the increase in spasms. Crazy I know. I doubt I’d make it two months before I’d be back begging for my injections. I know that life without my botox is not worth it. It is not a life. It is ambulance trip after ambulance trip, and I won’t go back to it. So where does that leave me? It leaves me cowering over twilight determined to loose myself in its love story.
Botox makes the biggest difference to my life. But the administration of it terrifies me.