He is a more than competent doctor and seems genuinely concerned. Because I had a bleed found only by hemoglobin depletion we do that test every visit. He says he doesn't like getting blindsided, I'm OK with that.
He also has a dry sense of humor that aligns well with mine, sorta dark but in a good way. On my third visit to him he wanted to see me walk and took me into the hallway. We walked to the end of the hall and he opened the door to outside, pointed across the parking lot and said his partner would see me next, he was pointing to a vets office. We both had a good laugh when I said the vet would shoot me if I was a horse.
Fast forward to this visit, nurse goes over the meds and takes me to the examining room, I'm waiting and go over to look closer at a picture on the wall, after a bit a voice behind me asks what did I do to make his nurse put me in the corner. We laugh and take our seats and start the question and answer dance, how have you been? Why did you stop taking the Lyrica? How's the pain? etc. My voice has been a problem and he is referring me to an ENT for evaluation. He says they will need to put a scope of some sort down my throat but will give me a local first. I point out the last time they did something like that there was no local when they put in the breathing tube.
So time marches on, I continue to slowly heal but have come to the conclusion the pain and I will remain companions for the foreseeable future, the side effects of crazy high blood pressure or tachycardia both would have bad outcomes. Antidepressants with bad discontinuation syndromes like cymbalta are off the table. The doc understands my thinking and says if it gets worse to come in but to carefully consider all the pros and cons of my various options, but for the moment I can manage the situation even if it means wearing sweats in the summer in Florida and the strange looks I get...if they only knew.