Monday, April 25, 2011

To the doctor and back.

.
.
Sleep has been so crazy the last few days, I was really worried about missing my appointment today. I went to bed early but could not sleep most of the night. Instead of getting up though, I just continued to rest. I can do that once in a while. That requires patients and a strange sort of fortitude. You do not believe me? Okay, some time when you are not capable of sleeping, go over, lay down, and make yourself comfortable. Now, stay there for eight to ten hours. Then shut it. Yep. In any case, I did get some sleep, but not until after 5:00. The alarm went off at 9:00, I reset it for 10:00. I did not really hear it, or consciously, or mostly, until about 10:30. With little time to prepare and go, I dithered almost beyond a reasonable time, and then some. Then again, I have no idea how long it takes to drive to the clinic. Every day I go is different. Traffic can be slow or fast, so an hour before I think I should go will get me there just in time and yet a few minutes late like today can find me there an half hour early. But, there I was, in more ways than one and on time, give or take.

The blood pressure is actually a bit better at 185/120 or 180/124 depending on which reading you like. My pulse was 110, not so good. This is a new doctor so I simply was not sure what to expect. As I said, I only went there for the lungs. And I had to keep reminding him of this. I told him directly that I consider myself on palliative care, at this point, so suggested he just stick to what he can service. He refused my suggestion that I am on palliative care. I thought about asking him what he calls the inability to treat a powerfully life threatening illness, but let it slide. He, instead, went over and over the high blood pressure issue. I told him that he was the umpteenth doctor who had been here, I told him that the medicines either do not work or the side effects are too severe. On and on. I only ever finally just barely got him to deal with the lungs.

After hearing my complaints, listening to the lungs, and fiddling on the machine, he asked if I was allergic to antibiotics. Not to my knowledge, and for short term I would suffer through allergies, I have been on much worse which I was supposed to take for the rest of my life in spite of it having no positive affect. Have you noticed doctors (not just him) spend half or more of their time fiddling with the computer? He asked, again, why I was so interested in taking care of my lungs with this other health issue hanging over my head. I simply told him there were three reasons. The first is, I have had high blood pressure for over a decade, this other is new. Second, high blood pressure is not messing up my life, the lung thing makes me nervous to sleep sometimes, fearing I will simply stop breathing. And last, I have put over five or six years in on treating the high blood pressure, lost my ability to go to school on the junk, found something that worked only to now have it refused as a treatment option. I suggested if he was really worried about the high blood pressure, then he offer me a treatment plan that I can take. Damn, every time.

So, he did give me an anti-biotic treatment of some sort or other. Two of them today, then one a day for the next three days... or something like that. Directions are on the medicine. He also doubled my water pill in spite of me saying I only take it occasionally. Does anyone listen? I did not bother to discuss that, as I was pretty worn out by then. Double it or triple it, whatever, I am not taking any more of it than what I already take. *sigh* Oh, I did mention that, in looking at possible problems, cortisol came up as perhaps being a problem, even more than Cushing's Syndrome. Neither have actually been tested from what he can see. Why would you have such a problem, he asked? Let me see, sex abuse, child abuse, lots of fights, near death in the Navy, and a couple of suicides, oh, and dealing with my mother when she was suicidal by trying to help her walk off an overdose. Yeah, maybe something like that? And that I cannot relax, maybe? Yeah.

He also set me up for a number of tests and another consult with psychiatry, ostensibly to see about being put on Ritalin (which I already know they will not do so, I am not willing to lie to obtain them and will not jump through imaginary hoops again, ever). Why, I do not honestly know. Some of it is legitimately to see if the lungs have other problems, some of it is to check the heart. I wonder where I fit in the office dead pool? I almost bet I am shorter on the list, but having more data might make guessing easier. If I was normal. If I was normal, I would already be dead. Oh, yeah. He asked about my Ha1c. I noted that it was lower than the time before, at 5.6, well within range. I also told him that it means I am probably not diabetic. I told him I have been drinking regular soda and eating sweets (Orios!) for three to six months now. The look on medics faces when things are not right! I tried not to be snarky, for all I know next time it will be 8.0 or something. Still, since I am just dying, I will not let them have even one of my taste sensations, salt and sugar are back on the menu. Hurrrumph!

Still, I actually feel better for having done this. And, I do have something for the lungs. I did suggest that I have a LOT of bats in my house, and no real means of getting rid of them. He asked why I could not get rid of bats, like such a notion was silly. I suggested my ability to function, work, is very limited. Only more limited is my income. And that getting rid of bats was actually quite a chore, one pest control companies will not even guarantee. Doctors. They makes tons of money and have no clue about anything outside (or some might say variances in) medicine. Bah!

On the way home, after not having eaten more than a meal in the last two or three days, I decided to stop at my favorite restaurant. I ordered a skirt steak burrito. Since it was the lunch menu, I was expecting a petite, if well prepared and sauced, tortilla envelope. Nope. I got the big burrito! I was only able to eat half of it, the rest waits for my distended belly to normalize and empty. I thought I was hungry, and I was. But the stomach really shrinks after days, and weeks really, of rather irregular and light eating. I almost still hurt from half the burrito. I then stopped at the grocery store and bought a few essentials. Meat, milk, and soda.

I saw the ginger I like at the store. She reminds me why I like women. For whatever reason, some boys and some girls (and I think it starts at that level often) simply like each other. When they grow up, even though we are grown up, something more could happen. And, yeah, it could. But she is married and I have become a prude about such things. I suspect she actually knows this and so it is safe to be genial with me. Cats love to test the length and strength of the chains dogs are bound by. Ha! Still, I do enjoy light and natural flirtations. It gives me hope. Sort of like the light at the end of a tunnel. It might be an oncoming train, but as long as I die blissfully ignorant of the mistake, I am okay with that too. *grins* *stupid ear-to-ear grins?* *evil grins?* Bah!

Well, on to seeing who died, why, when, and whether they saw the light first. Blog reading IS the new daytime drama. Later.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Backsass Here