I Promise I'll Make Sense Tomorrow

Heh, I happened to read the post the other day and realized that I made no damn sense whatsoever.  The good news, though, is that the bizarre external use only MetroGel (if it were internal use, it’d be MetroSexualGel? Sorry, I get punchy when feeling yucky) does seem to be getting a handle on the burning. I mean, three days does not a trend make, I know. And I have to apply it right when the redness starts, or else it can’t quite get it all under wraps, but it has lessened a bit, and it is cumulative over time. I mean, I’ll probably have to always have a handy tube available. Hopefully I won’t need to put the crud all over all the time. I care very little about the redness (although, because doctor’s offices are hot as hell often enough, it always shows up there — and they interpret it as “becoming emotional” — took me the longest time to figure out what the hell they were getting that impression from —  really they just need to turn the damn thermostat down). I am happy the burning feeling has cut off a little. Not that it was necessarily painful, but it was less than comfortable and it usually ended up making things that are also annoying more annoying, and I don’t need to feed any of that if I don’t have to.

I am seeing my sweet GP late tonight. I am happy about this. I mean, that’s a scary statement in and of itself. I kinda feel… not good. I mean, not “hey, dumbass, your sodium level is 123, this is why you can’t remember any of what happened today” bad, but it’s one of those times that the “illness terror threat” is moved from its normal “I’m mad and concerned my life will be like this for a good long time” to the “I’m mad and concerned that this might be like this for a shorter time than I really expected and with lots more damage than I would ever have wanted.”

Truthfully, it’s been a nagging, really nagging, concern for a little over a month, but the nagging components have been present for a good six or eight months. And the fact that I’m just starting to recognize it isn’t terribly surprising. I’ve had microscopic amounts of blood in my pee for years. Years. Yeeeaaaaaars. This is not unusual. No worries, they say. Okay. I mean, is it a problem every time I do a urine test it’s like that? I don’t know. My sweet GP thought it could be.

Then the last three years or so (I can’t remember the first year if it was this sorta thing or not… but I know the last two have been off) I went from microscopic amounts of blood to weird cells/cell casts.  I guess that urinalysis is pretty subjective, even when done with test strips (I swear, when I worked in the pet store, we used to get people bringing in water samples with deceased fish and I’d wondered if they’d peed in it… but I also know the water test and urine test strips never really match the color palette they use to read results off too closely.) Microscopic analysis I gather is even more subjective. I mean, if I’m making jokes about MetroGel, think of what I’d be like looking at urine sediment cells under a microscope all day. Pathology report: Holy shit! I found Waldo! — He appears non-malignant, but recommend cytoscopy if patient has a history of harboring Carmen San Diego.

But this is the second time at least we’ve found atypical cells.  I’ve had a cytoscopy, and I agreed last year with the nice urologist (he’s the bomb, really) that I really would rather not have to do that again, especially since atypical rarely means cancer, and that area doesn’t hurt, I’m young and nothing would seem to indicate it as such. He thought a nephrologist might make more sense given the fact that I seem to have other, larger, more suggestive of immune screwup stuff going on — seeing as lots of immune screwups manifest themselves there.

I didn’t though. Why? Unfortunate events. First, I left another sample for the urologist, behind the silver door in the bathroom (in the container, like the sign said… I thought it odd they had to instruct patients that the sample should be… well, in a cup, not just deposited behind the door.)  Evidently, someone spilled it, or something. Maybe I put the lid on wrong. I don’t know. They said that there wasn’t enough to read… There should have been.

Then, because sweet GP was going on leave and thought that I’d be better off with the ol’ Dorktor, she said he could do it, and the records would be there. But I don’t think he ever did. I mean, by that point, too, the diabetes insipidus started. And I can see where that would screw with how things look. Especially where damage can be so slow.

I have noticed that things just aren’t behaving. I thought it was (prior to the thymus pull) my being too cautious with fluid intake on desmopressin, because I don’t get thirsty. I thought that I was letting myself get too dried out, because there’s no long acting forms of DdAVP, and it was acting — well, sometimes I was fine, sometimes I would dry out completely. I can always go, of course, but I’d still inexplicably be dehydrated even if I wasn’t going much or if I drank enough. And other water balance issues were present, but I figured it was my inexperience with the desmopressin and my lack of thirst response.

But my pre-surgical labs were off. I mean, not horrendously so. Potassium was high. My blood pressure has been more prone to run high of late than desperately low, but… you know, jeez, I wonder why. It’s also not horribly high. Unless I talk (go figure).  So things have been less than wonderfully behaved, and they’ve had good reason. And truthfully, I wasn’t sure if I was just having desmopressin fallout or if something else was weird too.

I think something else is weird. It is also, as the nice urologist said last time, probably more in keeping that it’s a kidney thing if it is anything at all.  I mean, in that department. It also means that my sweet GP’s Hail Mary pass at a diagnosis last year (which really couldn’t be ruled out by a negative blood test, nor could it be confirmed had it been positive — that’s a pisser right there, eh?) could be correct. Again, smaller pool of suspects…. Because thymic involvement, diabetes insipidus can kinda click the wider field of suspects with lung, central nervous system and kidney involvement into a smaller pool — and all three of those systems involved is a decently sized lake, but it’s certainly not Lake Huron, you know?

I do want to know mainly because I am afraid taking (or not taking) desmopressin might make things worse. I mean, I have to take it at night. No question. During the day… Well, I mean, as long as I can at least spend time outside the latrine and manage the hydration levels, it’s not like I’m able to do a whole lot any way. But I notice that taking a desmopressin tends to have even more variable results than ever, and that probably helps very little.

Of course, not taking it could skew test results (like it might have last summer). It’s just a complicating factor that is often a little easier to manage (mostly psychologically, again, since I have no thirst response) with less than more — and either way could potentially obscure or cause damage, or have no effect at all aside from making life less pleasant.

Cause man, our bathroom is stuck in the freakin’ 1960s.

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