Don't Blink

Because either the website will flub up, or maybe I’ll be tossing my cookies. (Heh, British slang is awesome by the way — tossers, scrubbers, wankers….)

I finally got to see my sweet and very awesome GP today. I am glad. Cause… computer use is making me feel queasy (again) and I’m just not right. Well, okay, some of you have known me for a long time and know that. In fact, maybe it’s a selling point.

First, it was determined that my blood pressure has been running high. Yes, yes, mostly. The consistency is new… Usually it tended to have a week at 140/100 and two weeks at 95/65. Now it’s been right there in the 132/82 ballpark — for a good six months. Not great, I know. Not so bad, either.

Then the nice nurse left and the sweet GP came in, and she says “How are you doing?” and she looks at me and stops and says, “What the hell was the doctor in the ER talking about? I totally notice that your face is sagging.”

I said, “Yeah, you know me. It’s obvious if you know me, but if you are expecting… Harvey Dent after the accident, it’s nothing. Look, I can make the threatened chimpanzee smile without an issue, but I can’t always just smile.”

All right, I didn’t say anything about Harvey Dent. I did say “threatened chimpanzee smile.” Because that’s what it is.

She said that it was really obviously not the same as it looked when she saw me. I gave her the history. She’s kicking the neurologist’s office again. He did see me when it looked like it does normally — normal crooked — and this is not it. But he got the report from the ER saying, “Meh.” Since he thought it was meh to start with, there’s been no rush to do much of anything. (I told my sweet GP I spent more time with the physician’s assistant, who seemed to have clue, than I did the doctor.)

And my sweet GP had some baby bovines over that, and now she is ordering the tests. The MRI, and an MRA, cause what the hell, they can do them together. I mean… not that I think the MRA is necessary, but then, I hate that doctors decide if a test is worthwhile or not based on whether the outcome will throw a wrench in their world view.

My kidneys are apparently working (which is good) and my bladder is the problem with the weird urinalysis (I could still just have some inflammation, though — like, y’know, endometriosis, the crap in my lungs, the crap on my hand tendons… they could all cause stuff like that). That’s good and all. I don’t want another cytoscopy. Thanks.

She wanted to give me prednisone because it does work. Something’s friggin’ inflamed. But still… no reason to for sure, but she feels badly. She did think that neurosarcoidosis and other sorts of granulomatous bull (even crap like non-infectious encephalitis) is very possible.

So I had some labs drawn. Metabolic, and thyroid, because we love to test my friggin’ thyroid (tell me that won’t be messed up eventually — but at this point, it’d be another casualty) , and the ACE whatever enzyme which might help determine whether sarcoidosis (systemic) is what we may or may not see in other areas. And I’m going to see the dermatologist in July or August, the one she wanted me to — since she thought that this guy was a little bit of a fruitcake. She laughed her ass off over his proud “MS!” declaration. Yeah, sorry… No Kewpie for you, dude.

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