January 2023: Nearly had to undergo an MRI

Last Saturday, I found myself waiting for an appointment with one of the country’s top neurologists, observing the symptoms of the patients ahead of me while noticing occasional thumps in my own head and contemplating the future. When I met the doctor, I shared my experiences:

In early December of the previous year, I experienced pain around my eye socket, so I went to Ratnin Eye Hospital for a check-up, where no abnormalities were found. I thought it might be a migraine. Then, on December 26, I felt numbness in my hand, and by December 30, I experienced temple pain and hand numbness, prompting me to visit a private hospital.

At the private hospital, I saw an orthopedist first:

Moving my neck left and right didn’t affect the pain, so it seemed unrelated to bone issues. “Should we do an X-ray?” Why would we need an X-ray if it’s not related to bones? “Do you want some medication?” Why would an orthopedist prescribe medication for a condition not related to their specialty? “What do we do about today’s consultation, then?” Patients have the right just to get a check-up, and the doctor’s fee still applies. How annoying.

I continued my consultation with a neurologist:

“It’s likely a migraine. I’ll prescribe some medication for now, but if it doesn’t improve, just to let you know in advance, we might need to do a CT scan, which uses significantly more radiation than an X-ray.” After taking the prescribed medication, I felt I could manage the pain better, but once the effect wore off, the pain intensified.

Searching the medication online, I found it was a pain reliever that could cause rebound effects and should not be given for migraines. It contained “morphine,” so I decided to stop taking the painkillers and only took the preventive medicine, which somewhat alleviated the symptoms but didn’t completely cure me.

I thought about how the previous doctor must have a house and car to pay off and didn’t want to go back. So, I scheduled an appointment with a new doctor at the same hospital, opting for someone older and who also conducted exams at a major center, hoping to resolve the issue. It turned out the doctor suggested an MRI + liver and kidney tests, suspecting a vascular disease of the brain.

Put aside any drama about studying acting to understand whatever — but it made us “wonder.” We’re really good at picking up on other people’s communication cues because we’re alert to contexts like location, surroundings, the status of people with us, the intentions behind what the opposite person says, their gestures, and rhythms that communicate with us, and we’re sensitive to it. And I found myself using this sensitivity often in the private hospital. It’s worth mentioning, doctors are intimidating, each with their own interesting quirks.

“Do you have insurance?” Stop, and then start using hands to communicate. “Just saying in advance, just so you know.”

“If we were to proceed… would that be manageable?” As I silently looked on, the doctor eased the tension in the air by turning to look at a nurse, “Check the price for an MRI.”

“If you don’t want an X-ray and don’t want medication, what do you want to do about today’s consultation?” Although the doctor’s demeanor was calm, there was an audible “ah” at the end of the sentence to relieve the tension in the air.

I decided to go home and think over whether to proceed with the treatment or not. While ascending the BTS stairs, I hummed Mei Hua by Teng Li-Chun, inadvertently shedding a few tears. During the month where I did almost nothing, once my work was completed, I rested without guilt, declining everything that could be postponed, and then I realized. Over the past two years, setting aside other complications, I had just a couple of simple desires: to return to life in France and to resume piano and singing lessons with the teacher I had left behind. These were my sources of pure joy, which I never pursued, fearing they weren’t significant enough.

During this nearly unbearable month of headaches, I saw a physiotherapist twice, and the conclusion was that the autonomic nerves along my spine were sending pain signals to the brain, related to facial expressions. I knew well that I was not suited for traditional jobs that significantly restrict emotional expression. A good sign was that after completing physiotherapy, my headache would disappear for about half an hour, indicating that if there were a real brain pathology, the pain wouldn’t just vanish even for a minute.

I searched for the best vascular neurologist in the country and found one practicing near my home. After explaining all my symptoms, the doctor said it wasn’t a stroke but a combination of migraine and trigeminal neuralgia, and prescribed new medication. I was profoundly grateful for the logical explanation. Three days into the new medication, the throbbing pain vanished, leaving only a slight dull ache. Who would have known?