By the time I needed to go to Hopkins because the local doctors had declared it a mystery, Phil went with me anyway, and was nearly carrying me. However, the day I (finally) got my diagnosis, both the local Neuro and the Hopkins Neuro had decided I had a different (MMN) disease, and as soon as the electrical study proved it, I was to be transfused and begin to recover very quickly. The doctor while sticking needles into me told us what she was finding, so ultimately she diagnosed me. I remember as she kept finding those dirty spots, my mind was racing ahead, but since I'd been told so many times I showed no ALS pattern, it was a total shock, and even then, "ALS" wasn't mentioned. It was Motor Neuron Disease. Phil knew what that meant, I did not. I didn't cry until I called Dad to tell him that I wouldn't be Mom's caregiver after all. That was a week after the Hopkins trip. I came home and made an appointment with my favorite Neuro. (I had a whole cast of doctors, but only one who really cared and showed it.) He shot straight from the hip, giving me the hard facts.
Phil M, it seems to me they should have told you to have someone with you.
Jim, over the phone? That is awful.