I had an appointment with a neurologist about my recurrent migraines, which I've had for 23 years. Everything was under control for a long time, but things have deteriorated again in the last 2 years, so my GP referred me.
I took in a diary I've been keeping for 6 months, and was expecting in-depth questioning about the mix of headaches, he range and location of pain, what helped and what didn't, any possible triggers or aura, and perhaps some tests around vision, balance, muscle strength etc. My only expectation was more specialist approach, a shake-up in the preventative drug therapy and maybe something better in my arsenal for acute attacks. I was really pleased to finally be speaking to a headache expert, I was full of hope as the relentless pain is getting me down and disrupting my work.
What I got was a man with terrifyingly pinpoint pupils, who barely looked me in the eye and asked me how old I was 3 times even though it was in the letter right in front of him. He asked me some fairly vague questions, and however I answered he'd respond rather aggressively with "And???" but then cut me off when I tried to elaborate.
He looked at my diary and said that he didn't need to see any more, his formal diagnosis was that I was a "recurrent migraine sufferer".
Err, yes indeed...
He told me I needed to change my lifestyle - without asking me any lifestyle questions - told me that I should learn to meditate as "monks don't get headaches", and rambled on at length about some book he couldn't recall the name of to do with resetting your hormones through diet. That I should regularly do exercise to get my heart rate into the 200s and keep it there. If he'd asked I would have told him that high impact or protracted exercise triggers a migraine.
He made about 3 notes. I asked if there was any other medication I could try. He wittered on about a couple of other drugs and something about "killing the beast", but I couldn't really understand what he was saying, he was speaking so quickly. He showed me out and started rapidly dictating a letter with my name in it (presumably to my GP??) before I'd even made my way along the corridor, with the door still open.
I was bitterly disappointed, but my DH said, what were you expecting?
I thought he'd be more thorough, more interested and assume that after 23 years, I may have already tried multiple lifestyle changes (and found they didn't change much). I appreciated his lecture on sleep hygiene but nothing I didn't already know from Dr Google. His physical neurological assessment consisted of touching my arms and legs and clicking his fingers by my ears. 
Was I expecting too much? My GP is going to get a letter saying I'm a fat menopausal woman with an endless headache, big deal chuck her some naproxen. I'm a bit insulted.