Conduction Velocity Test For Neuropathy: A Personal Story

Today's post from myplainview.com (see link below) will be instantly recognisable to many people going through testing, evaluation and diagnostic procedures for neuropathy. The author writes about the peculiar frustrations of having a nerve conduction velocity test (among others), the conclusions of which, are something you already know. People living with neuropathy very often go through these tests perfectly aware of their own problem and what it is but it seems the medical establishment always needs some sort of physical proof. The tests are mainly for them and your dossier and the ironic thing is that even if you test negative, because of your symptoms and story you will probably be diagnosed as having neuropathy but with the tag 'idiopathic' (cause unknown) added on. This is not always the case of course; various tests can establish the specific type of neuropathy you have but in general, they seem to be standard process for doctors and neurologists to justify their own frustrations with nerve disease and damage and of course to satisfy insurance companies and other bodies who need to know if your problem is officially recognised or not. This article is definitely worth a read because it's light-hearted but oh so recognisable.

Getting There: Living on the periphery 
BY GAIL M. WILLIAMS | Herald Lifestyles Editor |Posted: Friday, October 17,
 
Gail M. Williams comes to The Herald from the Odessa American. She will serve as lifestyles editor.  

It’s a fact of life that when you go in for an outpatient procedure, if you have already pre-registered you will have to fill out the same form all over again before someone snaps on to the fact that you’re already in the system.

That’s why I was surprised recently when I was waved immediately to the floor where I was to have a conduction velocity test.

That’s where I hit a snag. I was told that I had rescheduled the test for earlier in October, and that I was a no-show. I was shown a notation on my chart to that effect.

If that were the case, I had much bigger problems than the one I was in for. I’d either lost my memory, assumed an alternate identity or been kidnapped by aliens.

At any rate, the person who was supposed to have my time slot was an actual no-show, so I was sent in to have the test.

I’ve had peripheral neuropathy for about five years. It causes my feet and lower legs to tingle, pretty well constantly. Most of the time, I’m distracted from the sensation, but the condition makes it hard to sleep at night. I take medication to help with that.

Originally, the doctor that diagnosed me did so by having me tested for PAD (peripheral artery disease), using ultrasound. When I tested negative for PAD (good news), it was determined that I had peripheral neuropathy.

Frequent commercials advertise products for “diabetic nerve pain.” This is new terminology for peripheral neuropathy, presumably because “peripheral neuropathy” is hard to remember and pronounce. Come to think of it, let’s just call it PN.

Those who have diabetes often develop PN. However, diabetes is just one condition associated with the disease, and so far, I don’t have diabetes or anything else that I know of.

In a nerve conduction velocity test, a specialized physician applies shocks to your feet and legs, then follows the path of the electrical impulse on a computer.

The man that conducted the test started off by asking me my country of origin, which is still, apparently, not Texas.

“Pingree, North Dakota,” I replied. (No one knows where Pingree is, so I put in a plug for it whenever I can.)

He then proceeded to do the test, while I lay back and focused on my breathing.

“Are you feeling this at all?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. Then I explained, “North Dakotans are usually stoic.”

After that, I obliged him with an “ouch” whenever the shock seemed particularly strong. He said my nerves are fairly deep, which may account for some of my chronic stoicism.

I then went on to an appointment with the neurologist who had scheduled the test. He asked me whether everything was normal. I said I didn’t know, because the doctor who conducted the test didn’t tell me. He did tell me that I wouldn’t have to have the “pinprick” test. Even the most stoic among us would perceive that as good news.

The neurologist left, then returned.

“No,” he said bluntly. “The test was not normal.”

“It wasn’t?”

“No. You have neuropathy.”

I had to laugh. “Well, I knew that!” I said. In fact, I seemed to remember that I was the one who informed him.

The doctor ordered blood tests for several conditions that might contribute to my PN.

Judging by the Internet, there has been more research into PN since I first developed it. So, the tests may find a cause that can be treated, or I may continue to be diagnosed as “cause unknown.”

At any rate, I’m doing several things right. I don’t smoke, which is helpful, I seldom drink, also helpful, and I exercise regularly.

And, due to my upbringing, I try to look on the bright side and seldom complain.

(Ouch.)

http://www.myplainview.com/lifestyles/article_9519bbaa-5645-11e4-aa64-bb8b9093f22e.html