Little happy dance . . . Thanks, God!

I’ve mentioned in previous posts that my Dear Husband has a nasty and very painful disease called Interstitial Cystitis.  We were thrown about a month back when his specialist dropped our insurance and we had to scramble to find a new one.  There aren’t that many doctors who specialize in IC, and many of them will see only women, so he has to drive an hour to the New Doc.  And then, it’s always unnerving to have to start with a new doctor—so much explaining, wondering if they thoroughly read the records, and such. And the new doctor is an hour away. But Dear Husband had his first appointment today with New Doc, who seems to really know the disease well and has some definite ideas about improving treatment. Dear Husband has a prescription for physical therapy, a new med regimen, and, well, a rather nasty operation to look forward to. I won’t go into details, since it would probably turn any male readers pale and cause them to cross their legs protectively. But New Doc thinks this operation is essential. When to have surgery we don’t yet know—it means a couple weeks off work, a lot of pain, a lot of lost blood, and a rather long recovery. But, nasty operation aside, I’m so pleased that this doctor is thorough and understands what Dear Husband is dealing with.

This is a good ending to a rather sorry week. The sun has even come out after a foggy morning. Now, if I could just go curl up with my frivolous novel and sleep for 12 hours straight.