We have a new rheumy! Hallelujah! Praise the Lord! Thank you, Jesus!

I will NEVER have to set foot in David’s old rheumatologist’s office ever again! No more four hour waits. No more unanswered questions. No more nasty nurses.

David has an appointment next week. We’ll see how we like the new rheumy. Honestly, he could be a pretty lousy doctor and still be better than the old one.

During David’s first visit with his old rheumatologist (I love saying that: his OLD rheumatologist!), the doctor explained that while David was taking Methotrexate we would be unable to have children. Well, at least, that’s a nice way of saying it. His exact words were, “If you want to get your wife pregnant, you’ll have to stop taking Methotrexate.” Pretty rough way of phrasing it, especially since I was sitting next to David.

After the weekend from H***, I asked the rheumy what we should do the next time David flared up over the weekend because I didn’t think he should have to suffer for three days. The rheumatologist said, “Just see me on Monday. The emergency rooms don’t know what to do for something like this.”

Yup, that’s right. He was telling us, “Suffer for three days. I don’t care that you can’t walk or sit up or that you’re in agony. No one can help you but me. I’m in D Magazine every year. I am a god.”

And his nurses! Oh, his nurses. They were the worst nurses I’ve ever dealt with. One of them lied to me. I couldn’t even leave them a message after eleven o’clock in the morning.

I cannot wait to meet the new rheumatologist and his nurses. Let’s celebrate! Hand me another Diet Coke!

Related Posts:

• The New Rheumatologist
• The Waiting Game
• General Update