Sunday, July 21, 2013

The $500 U.A.

I'm fired up.  Not only does visiting a pain specialist cost an arm and a leg, they also feel it necessary to test my urine for drugs.  Do they assume the worst and figure that if someone is coming to see them that there is a chance they are not in pain, but making it up to seek narcotics?  I suppose that scenario does play out on occasion.

The pain clinic I now go to has a drug testing policy.  There is a mandatory urinalysis (UA) on your first visit, and they can randomly select you for UAs at future visits.  So I go along with their policy and submit a specimen to them on my first visit.  It's not a big deal to me at the time.  It turns into a big deal when I get a statement from my insurance showing that the urinalysis cost $500.00.  No, that was not a typo.  Apparently a pee test there costs $500.00!  Are you kidding me?  Holy cow.  I've had to take pre-employment drug tests in the past and I know those only cost approximately $50.00.

I called the clinic and inquired if they had made a typo, maybe keyed in an extra zero in their figure when they billed my insurance.  They informed me that they had not.  They said that they ran ten different tests on my sample and each test costs $50.00.  Wow. 

Here's my beef with the situation...I'm not seeking any heavy duty painkillers or narcotics of any sort.  I'm simply seeking therapeutic Botox treatment.  Even the doctor agreed that there isn't anything else left to try at this point.  I also made it clear to him that I'm not agreeable to any sort of narcotic pain medication because I just don't want to go down that road.

No wonder insurance is so expensive.  $500 pee tests are just one tiny example of exorbitant costs.

Monday, July 1, 2013

Botox: Take 2

I went in for my second Botox treatment the other day.  I felt like whomever has that voodoo doll of me was relentlessly stabbing pins all over its head.


I must say that the injections hurt less this time, but the after effects were worse.  I awoke at 2:00 a.m. the next morning and couldn't sleep much after that because of throbbing pain at the 20+ injection sites.  Ice packs helped some with the pain and less than 24 hours later I was feeling much better.

I have a ton of little red spots on my forehead from the injections and some of them are accompanied by tiny bruises.  It could certainly be worse.  Last time I had one big goose egg and bruise on the center of my forehead for several weeks.  Eventually the bruise turned a lovely yellow color so at least it was less noticeable than the deep blue/purple color it began with.  To me it felt like I had a unicorn horn sticking out of my head, but I doubt it was that noticeable to everyone else.

I felt I looked like this with my goose egg/bruise.

My doctor is pretty cool.  He and his nurse let my husband take pictures of the treatment to use on this blog.  (Thanks doc!)  The procedure doesn't take long at all.  Here's a couple of before shots:

Syringes of Botox and whatnot
Me being over dramatic about the injections.


Here are some pictures of the procedure:


We've got a bleeder!

My doctor was asking questions and making me laugh during the procedure.  Not cool.  I was trying to go to my happy place where I can be completely still, a technique I've learned from living with chronic pain, giving myself injections of medication, and getting several tattoos.  (Sorry about the tattoos Mom, I know you're not a fan and are probably rolling your eyes as you read this.)

I think the temple is the most painful injection.
The doctor was making me laugh in this pic, but I was trying to be still.

Am I the only one who is kind of freaked out about pregnancy ultrasound pictures some people post on social media?  I wish people would just make the announcement that they are expecting without the visual aid of an ultrasound photo.  Seriously, it feels like a flashback to biology class or that scene in Spaceballs where the alien pops out of the guy's stomach.

Scene from Spaceballs

Well, the doctor suggested taking pictures of the ultrasound when they put the Botox injections in my neck, so here it is.  I guess it shows the needle going into my neck muscles, but it just looks like a bunch of wavy lines to me.  At least there's no freaky alien looking thing in my ultrasound picture.  You're welcome.


They only used the ultrasound on the neck injections because they have to insert the needle deeper and need to make sure they get it in the right spot.  I've heard that if they get it in the wrong spot there is an outside chance that it can mess with muscles associated with respiration.  YIKES!  What would happen in that situation?  Would I have to live in an iron lung until the Botox wore off?  That's a few months!  I snap back to reality and decide to push the thought into a dark corner in the back of my mind.  The thought will probably creep up again and my subconscious will produce an associated nightmare in the next couple of months.

I'm in and out of the clinic in about 30 minutes.  I walk out looking like my forehead was attacked by a small swarm of angry bees.  The procedure is non-invasive and I could drive myself home, but not this day since I've got my chauffeur/husband with me.  (I drove the hour to the clinic so he will drive the hour home.)  The worst side effect I have after these treatments is muscle weakness in my neck that starts about two days after the procedure.  I experienced it last time and it lasted approximately two to three weeks.  It is painful muscle strain sort of feeling and I feel like a bobble-head.  I am most comfortable sitting in a high back chair where I can let my neck rest against the back of the chair and I don't have to hold it up.  When nobody is around I sometimes put on a cervical collar to allow my neck muscles to relax.  The muscle weakness also makes doing yoga a bit more challenging, but I can get through it with some slight modifications.

The Botox is helping.  I still get migraines, but my pain level is less intense.  I will go back for another treatment in three months.