Confessions of a Concussed Cyclist: I hate goodbyes

December 10, 2021

If you did not read the title in the voice of Jim Carrey from Dumb & Dumber…I don’t think we can be friends.

Today I said goodbye to my neurologist and it’s not only heartbreaking, it’s scary.  I don’t expect many people to understand how I’m feeling regarding her departure, and until you’ve spent as much with a doctor as I have spent with her,  I suspect you’ll never understand. 

I met “Dr. N” on October 30, 2014. She was my second neurologist and for a short spell, she tag-teamed with my first neurologist until, as Dr. N tells it, she fought to get me all to herself…and won. 

I won the lottery the day Dr. N became my doctor. I won with a doctor that never gave up, that never let me down, that understood me.  I won with a doctor that thinks outside the box just as much as she follows textbooks. I won with a doctor that laughed with me, cried with me, and bent over backwards to make sure I had access to all I needed.  I won with a doctor that never stopped learning with me.  

I used to joke that if she ever left the hospital I would have to follow her.  But when it comes down to it, I will not be following her when she leaves in a few days…as tempting as it is.

“She’s only a doctor” you may be thinking.  But to me, she’s my saving grace.  She always has a trick up her sleeve.  She always has a plan A, B, and C lined up ready to go.  She has walked with me through the hardest thing I’ve ever had to go through. I really like her and I trust her completely (a rare combination in today’s world); and the thought of her not being there, is frightening. 

The odds of winning the lottery twice are slim; Dr. N will leave a big white coat to fill (metaphorically speaking, not literally).  I am heartbroken that she won’t be my neurologist forever (although I often told her that was to be the plan). I truly cried for hours after hearing the news, but I will forever be thankful that she was with me the first seven years of my TBI journey.