Turning my ortho into an endo #itmakessenseifyouhavediabetes

I met with a doctor yesterday, an orthopaedic surgeon, whom I desperately wish could be my endocrinologist. I wish he were my physician all the time, and I wish his office could be my permanent doctor’s office. Let me explain why I say that. Back in November, I wrote about my “trigger finger.” Earlier this month, I wrote about its return after the steroid wore off. My first ortho guy diagnosed it as trigger finger though my thumb had never actually locked up, (gross!) a key part of a trigger finger diagnosis. When I called earlier this month to make an appointment, he couldn’t see me until April. So last Friday, a friend suggested a second opinion with an office at St. Vincent’s Hospital in Birmingham. I called at 7:30 a.m. Monday and was told I could be seen at 1:45 p.m. Already on my good side — same day service.

I vaguely wanted a second opinion because A) I didn’t have all the symptoms of a true trigger finger, B) Three other knuckles have shown mild swelling and tenderness in the past three weeks, C) I honestly just wanted relief from the pain in my thumb before April, and D) the practice recommended was the Andrews Sports Medicine and Orthopaedic Center. Um, yes please.

Dr. James Andrews is a highly and well regarded orthopaedic surgeon, specifically in the world of sports. He and his staff are world renown and have a great reputation. Even Wikipedia calls him “arguably the most renowned orthopedic surgeon in his profession for knee, elbow, and shoulder injuries.” If you don’t believe me or Wikipedia (whaaaa? you don’t believe Wikipedia?) ask nearly any A-list athlete you run across. They all know. Brett Favre? Yep, he knows. Drew Brees? Yep, he knows. Michael Jordan, Emmitt Smith, Jack Nicklaus, Hope Solo? Yep, all of them know. And what about Bo Jackson? Oh yeah, Bo Knows. (See what I did there with the “Bo Knows” thing?) Or you can ask my alma mater, ’cause he’s awesome enough to be the team doc. (Just saying.)

I’ll admit I had high expectations going in, but I wasn’t disappointed. From the moment I walked into the lobby, everyone was nice. Every nurse, every technician, every staff member. Everyone was polite and kind. Everyone had a smile on their face, and the sound of laughter was easy to hear. Even the patients waiting seemed calmer and happier. I’ve seen a lot of doctors in my lifetime thanks to diabetes, and I’ve never been in a practice with this sort of atmosphere. I kinda didn’t want to leave.

When my doctor came in, he shook my hand and introduced himself. He sat in a chair next to me, not standing over me and not requiring me to sit on the paper covered gurney thing. As we talked, he commended my A1c when I told him it was 6.6. When he asked if I spiked from the last steroid shot, I said yes, but was able to better manage it by increasing my basal and watching my CGM graph. He stopped me and said, “I’m sorry, I’m not familiar with what that is.” Holy humility Batman. Did a doctor just admit he didn’t know something? I was so happy to explain and went on about closing the loop with the artificial pancreas project and what technologies and research were down the road. He listened intently and asked a couple of questions. I shared that through an online community, I’d found other type 1s who’d had trigger finger before, which was tremendously helpful since I knew nothing about it prior to being told I had it. He seemed genuinely interested and even asked the name of my site.

I’ve never, and I mean never, had a doctor talk to me like this. I felt equal and not like a lower form of species or like an uneducated patient. And when he went to look at my X-rays, he asked if I wanted to look at them “with him.” He explained things to me as we looked and talked. He even laughed with me as I talked about the absurdity of my injury, (from my dog) and he wasn’t interested in the easy-way-out option of surgery. He wanted to see how it reacted to treatment and other options before cutting. And he didn’t want to cut not being positive it was even true trigger finger. His honesty and openness were tremendous selling points for me. At this point of the visit, I wanted to beg him to leave ortho and move to endo. Or at the very least, come mentor my doctors in Huntsville.

As a disclaimer, I don’t want to disregard the first ortho guy I saw in Huntsville. He was fine. He explained things to me, but in a small, condescending way. He asked no personal questions and offered no knowledge of my basal rates for the steroid shot. He seemed surprised when I told him I was type 1, even though it was in my chart. As a doctor, he was fine and I felt confident in his skills. But there was little-to-no bedside manner. I feel this way with most of my doctors, sadly. I believe they are good, solid doctors, but I want more than that. I want a relationship, trust and communication.

So yesterday was incredibly refreshing. Humble, kind, smiling doctors interested in more than just my thumb. They were interested in me as a patient and making sure I was comfortable with my options. I praised the doctor while I was there, but it’s hard to fully convey how great this visit was for me. Smiling faces, happy dispositions and friendly doctors, nurses and staff make a HUGE difference to patients. I don’t care that this practice is more than an hour away; I will make the drive anytime I need an ortho. And I will HIGHLY recommend this practice to anyone in need, athletic or otherwise.

Dr. Andrews is famous on his own merit and accord, as is his practice. I had high expectations going in, and they were exceeded. Seriously Doc, if you ever read this, thank you for re-affirming my hopes of a practice where I am valued and included and not simply an insurance card and a checkbook. Are you sure you don’t want to switch to endocrinology? I can promise to send you half of Huntsville…

Next up on the quest for happy healthcare: Vanderbilt Eskind Diabetes Center: April 2