Tuesday, July 30, 2013
And, so it begins...medical tests
I just returned from a doctor's visit, a gastroenterologist. He agreed to do ONLY the endoscopy--tube going down my throat without the colonoscopy. He was slightly amused at my reluctance to have the colonoscopy until I figured out what was wrong in mid area. But, when I told him this pain in my side had been there on and off for thirty plus years, his eyebrows went up. As I told him, over the years it hurts worse and for longer, happens more frequently and is now accompanied by extreme nausea that causes me to not want to eat.
He seemed eager to see tests from the rheumatologist (for fibromyalgia) and wanted to see the CT scan results from the urologist. I handed him the first and the second set of test results is being faxed over right now.
Thirty years ago, several times I was told it was just a pulled muscle.
Ten years ago, on my first visit to a doctor, he declared after five minutes that I just needed psychiatric help. I guess you can tell a woman is nuts when she is bent in pain.
Last fall, a snip of a doctor would not listen to anything of my condition (fibromyalgia, last vertebrae sitting on bone, two herniated discs, L5 out of place, and torn meniscus and torn rotator cuff) when he demanded, yes demanded, I walk twenty minutes a day and lose 15 lbs. before I returned in two months. He became angry because I refused to take high blood pressure medicine. My blood pressure was 198/140...forgot the lower number, actually, but it was also high. I insisted that I had walked too far, gone in the wrong building, was at a new doctor, and hurried so I would not be late. I asked several times for him to take my blood pressure again. He refused like a petulant child. The nurse took my blood pressure without asking him and it was something like 135/72. I have never gone back.
The gastro nurse took my blood pressure today and said it was "very good." Today, my blood pressure was 135/70?--also declared "excellent." Yes, for an old, fat woman, it is good.
Tomorrow, I will have an ultrasound of my gall bladder. Then, the down-the-throat test in another week or two, depending when I can get someone to go with me and when the lab can schedule me.
And, so it begins--my quest to finally figure out what is happening and take appropriate steps to "fix" it. I really think my esophagus has narrowed. The CT scan from the urologist showed I had a "very small hiatal hernia." We will see. This is a very nice doctor. Oh, the urologist was a friend before I first went to him for care in 1982.
I have had some great doctors in the past, not many doctors at all, but some were just plain incompetent, mean, and uninterested in listening. I have used the same urologist for 32 years and ob/gyn for 35 years until he retired and now see his son in the same offices for the last 3 years. I don't go from doctor to doctor, looking for someone to agree with me, but I refuse to accept abuse and disrespect.
About Patsy Cline
Since I have had to carry her to bed for two weeks, she seems less terrified of me when I go out to feed them. I suppose that it was good to hold her close, pet her head and neck and talk sweetly to her as I carried her along. She is actually becoming more like Fancy, seeking me out and talking to me all the time I am out. She following me to the car yesterday. I wonder if she would have jumped in if I had showed her popcorn.
It is 10:30 pm and I never heard from the doctor's office since I went to sleep at 2 pm and took a nap...lol. I will just get up in the morning and call to see when the test is scheduled.
Thelma and Patsy Cline put themselves to bed in their pen tonight instead of on the porch rail. Yay girls!
My friend says that I am a hypochondriac because I am not actually having a gall bladder attack that is putting me in the ER. I don't want an emergency on my hands. It would be nice to control when if I do need surgery. She has a cadre of specialists that she sees regularly visits.