You Always Hurt the Ones You Love

Mr. Shoe says it’s empathy, and I say it’s probably weird and I shouldn’t feel that way, because my sweet GP signed on for it and I sure as hell didn’t, but man, I always feel bad when I go to see her and then she has to send me some place else — fast. Like, you know, yesterday.

And part of it is of course I hate having to go to any medical appointment, and I hate the emergency room the worst. I also hate that she has to do it (and I understand completely and appreciate that she does).  I know she has to. I know we all wish it were different.

Anyway, the good news is is that apparently it’s more what I was thinking, which was something is slowly doing its drain circle and not necessarily revealing what is causing some of the more worrisome symptoms in my kidneys and lungs and stuff (as opposed to the potentially worrisome but mostly damn annoying ENT symptoms).  My sweet GP was convinced my electrolytes went to hell again… I wasn’t completely in disagreement, of course. But the labs at the ER showed pretty normal or at least close enough to normal (and in the “chronic close enough” sense) that no one was thinking that was the issue. I was worried that a kidney was borking up, or something was hardening up around it, and hell, maybe it is… but we can’t see that yet.

The ER staff suspected kidney stones (not a bad thought… I was wondering. I get them in my salivary glands, thanks to drying out all the damn time but still having low sodium) but didn’t see anything. I had an elevated white blood cell count, but it seemed likely more a prednisone thing than an infection thing (given the fact everything else was okay in terms of infection behavior). Kidneys seem to work.

My blood pressure was, per usual, high… until they stuffed me with some IV stuff, and it went almost normal. I think that I tend to run higher when they take my blood pressure with an automated machine, but either way… I have run high consistently for the past two years. I almost hit normal after a saline IV, which I suppose makes sense. It’s hard though, and I swear if anything is going to cause me serious problems in the short term, it’s the damn electrolytes. I don’t just mean sodium. I’ve had potassium go high for no reason, and calcium tends to waver on the high end, despite my not having had an ounce of vitamin D in my blood stream… ever, apparently. (Again, there’s a test result I doubt highly.)

So they pressed around, and the physician’s assistant made a funny little face when she squished my lower right abdomen. Like, to the point she made the face and I thought… is she going to enlighten me or anything, or does she have a cramp or something?

After nearly barfing up a bunch of ReadiCat (I didn’t get the Crystal Light stuff they had at Dana Farber… I guess it must light different stuff up. The Crystal Light is preferable, but if given the choice between flavored ReadiCat and unflavored… Take the unflavored. It is not any more gross tasting, and you won’t associate barium sulfate with raspberries for the rest of your life) I got a trip through the CT (again).

The verdict: No idea what is causing the larger symptom set I came in with (except I think it’s my normal suck, heading downwards, and not being revealing yet… this isn’t new, it’s just friggin’ intense and I want to catch things before they really, really break. Now I can. This is a good thing. Honest.) However, if I had come in with complaints suggestive of appendicitis… Then I’d have appendicitis. I guess there’s a calcified something or other in my appendix. Whether it means jack in the grand scheme of things, I don’t know. It could be incidental, it could be from the same sort of drying out crap I have go on, it could be more relevant. It isn’t doing much though, now, except making the PA in the emergency room at B&W make funny faces at me.

Duly noted, and I see Dr. J next week. And I’ll talk to my sweet GP today. I want to thank her… nay, I need to thank her. I mean… She knows me. She said I was acting loopy (well, shit, I’m overtired, I’m itchy and gross feeling, and I had to piss like a racehorse in her office… I don’t feel good, and I get stupid. Really, really, stupid. It wasn’t electrolyte stupid though, I knew. That didn’t feel stupid… I knew what I was doing. It just took years to do it.) I do think there’s something more than the diabetes insipidus messing with my electrolytes, and I think it’s mechanical and outside my pituitary. I don’t know where, though. Anyway, I want to thank her for knowing me so well. I want to thank her for saying it, because she has known me for so long and that’s why she means so much as a medical professional to me… She said, “You look like hell.”

Yes. I do. I still maintain it’s more I don’t look like me. I don’t always necessarily look like hell, but I’m not recognizable as who I was. I mean, I don’t look sick sick sick, but I have changed, slowly, and they are indicative of… being sick. And I looked like hell enough that it scared her. It scares me too. But it is nice to have someone who knows me, who is a doctor and has that responsibility to say such and the weight and experience and resume to back it up to other medical professionals. I will be grateful for and love that woman till the day I die, which fortunately will not be in the next 48 hours, according to the ER.

Seriously, I am lucky. I don’t feel it, and it feels weird to say, but I know it. The idiot thing is this isn’t inconsistent with what I am thinking I’m going to face… but I’m probably going to have to do this whether treatment is working well or not periodically. And I hate that. And I hate that my sweet GP hates putting me through it. I know it has to be that way.

Poor Mr. Shoe, too. God.  I am happy to report though that finally they are letting him right back into the ER with me, asking who I live with (I point to him and say, “That guy.”) and they ask right there, “Do you feel safe at home?” Yes, it is a perfunctory question, and we all know that he didn’t stick a calcified whatever the hell it is in my appendix, or a lump in my lung and left ass cheek because he enjoys the drama of the ER.

I must have been feeling shitty though. Last night there was tons of drama in that ER. I mean… tons. And I just felt so tired. It also could have been the crap they gave me to keep me from tossing up the barium.

This entry was posted in Getting to the Point, Langerhans Cell Histiocytosis, Living with, Not Otherwise Specified, The Bad, The Ugly. Bookmark the permalink.

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