#surgeryone

When I went to my first hand specialist you could say it wasn't the best experience I've had with a doctor. We got to the office and the waiting room was almost as big as a high school auditorium and it was filled with a bunch of people. So we signed in on time and waited for a good hour or two, watching people go in and come out a few minutes later, and by the time I was finally called I was a moron and walked off with my X-rays sitting in the chair I sat next to; I eventually ran out and grabbed them after realizing I had forgotten them.

Once I got in to see the doctor it was immediately obvious he wasn't very concerned, much less interested in my arm. For one he spelled "Kienbock's" wrong, spelling it "K-E-I-N-B-O-C-K-S," and then once he diagnosed me he literally said "So, do you want surgery or a cast?" Like any uneducated person I chose cast, so he then walked out of the room and that was the last time I saw him. For the whole visit I had been in the office area about 10 minutes and this is basically all he said: "You have this, you want surgery or a cast?"

Needless to say once we left we knew we were never returning since we felt like cows in a cattle farm; go here, go here, go here, see actual human for a minute or two. Once we left with my shiny new black cast on my arm we began looking for other specialists, and I can't recall how we found him but we later went to see the specialist I go to now. He actually made an effort to explain things to me and I was then told I should've picked surgery when my first specialist asked. I told him he didn't bother explaining anything and he understood but my arm had begun to get worse.