“I have lost my triceps jerk; I am areflexic.” I told my neurosurgeon.
“So what?” he replied.”I know what is wrong with you” he said.
I then went onto explain to him that it took me a week to find a patella hammer and to get someone to test my reflexes. In short, surgical wards and even neurosurgeons don’t really need a reflex hammer to practce their art. It was pretty clear from my original CT scan that I had a C7 radicuopathy. (pinched nerve)
Ironically, I am in the David Marsden ward at King’s College Hospital. David Marsden was the doyen of clinical neurology and considered by many to be the greatest British neurologist of the 20th century. Would David Marsden have expected my clinical team to have tested my reflexes?
I wrote a piece on “the art of medicine, and by inference neurology, being in terminal decline”. Do you agree or have I become a grumpy old fart?
Topor as a state is not black-and-white; I am in a brief grey patch with some lucidity. The hyena has not gone away; she is now on a leash and the white lightening now runs through the leash in more predictable patterns. I am hoping to be transferred to a rehab unit for the next chapter.
Too painful to type much. I will keep you updated when I have enough energy.