Heresy, Blasphemy, and You Can Use Too Much Cheese and Garlic

It’s true… I think cheese food products (or cheese food, or cheese in general) are often overused. Garlic is too. And chocolate… Dudes, chocolate cake, with chocolate ice cream, and chocolate frosting, delivered via chocolate-flavored forks is just damned gross. Then, I’m one of those freaks that thinks chocolate is best when it’s in its true “chunk/bar” form (not a cookie, cake, or dairy product) and wonders how something can smell as wonderful as coffee does and taste as absolutely hideously craptacular.

I would imagine that it’s even possible to overdo bacon. I like bacon, though, and I don’t want to have these feelings about it like I do about cheese and garlic.

I didn’t really want to talk about food. No, really, trust me, I don’t.

But there are lots of things you shouldn’t say because they’re not acceptable in a doctor’s office — in the doctor’s opinion. And I’ve wanted to, but truthfully, I know I feel like an ass saying them. I shouldn’t, though.  I think part of why it’s so damned hard to say much to doctors is often because they’ve been trained to think that any emotion that isn’t positive in nature — or (gulp) completely neutral — is the sign a patient is depressed, or not dealing with the problem well.

First — when I am apathetic, you all better worry. Lack of emotion, bad bad bad. And I’ve just started telling doctors that I feel no need to apologize for feeling what I feel. It’s valid. You can’t handle it? Get a new profession. It’s okay (and not necessarily clinical depression, or even sub-clinical depression)  to feel sad over a shitty situation. In fact, I find periodically, it’s good to have a nice pity party. After an hour or so, it gets really old, and it’s out of my system, and I can think about what I can do next.

It is a bummer that doctors started equating anything that wasn’t overjoyed bluebird-esque happiness with depression. Depression is a horrendous thing to deal with, believe me. But start diagnosing it every time someone sheds a tear over an admittedly unfortunate situation, you might be causing them damage, and you’re definitely making life a lot harder for people with depression.  I feel the same way with how easily fibromyalgia is thrown around. I know it exists, and is a real problem — a really, really horrible problem — for some people. But I know that doctors throw it on things that it doesn’t fit, and that sells everybody short. Especially those who suffer from it.

I don’t, by the way. I think you could poke those tender points with knives and there wouldn’t be a reaction. You don’t want to know how many times I heard I had it though. It’s an answer, and better yet, it’s one no once can treat really effectively (especially before things like Lyrica and stuff).

I think that we need to throw out the word “fatigue,” because it has no meaning. Pain really has no meaning, either, though, because even when I don’t feel pain or describe something as painful, it gets worked in there. Lots of things that are nasty don’t hurt.

Like, um, cancers, for instance. Sometimes they do hurt from day one, I guess, of course, but not always.

And other things I can’t say: When a doctor says, “Be glad it isn’t….” or “You don’t want it to be…. do you?” (I really love the “do you?” part.)  I want to say, “I don’t want to be here to start with, so I’m not sure I have a choice in the matter.”  There are a few things medically that scare the living crap out of me: two I know I don’t have, and one’s already happened (and my fear was justified).

I have had nothing ruled out that gave me such comfort as knowing I don’t have ALS, and it’s not early onset-Alzheimers.  Those two rule outs were truly great to hear. I know why Alzheimers scares me (same reason being foggy does, I hate when my brain won’t go) and ALS is a similar thing — my brain is telling my body to do stuff, and it won’t, and dammit, why not? Having had it happen (for some other reason, thankfully) it is a really unnerving feeling. And the thought of it getting progressively worse with little they can do till you die three or five years (or in Stephen Hawking’s case, decades and decades) later is scary. I’m not sure whether the prospect of a short time or decades is scarier, actually…

The other thing that scared me was low blood sodium — it’s why I was freaked out when I started dehydrating so easily, why I was so adamant they find out why I kept peeing and drinking. It was unholy, and it was one of those things that I heard as a kid could kill you…. You know, an impressionable young teen hears that you can die from having too much water, but you’re made up of 98% water — holy crap, 2% more water in my fleshy bits’ll kill me! Of course, the diabetes insipidus (and treatment) didn’t make that happen, per se, it was the shock of that surgery. I think the fact I was so conscious of what it could do that I got it straightened out before really bad things happened. And since my pituitary has gone back to its lackluster anti-diuretic producing  self, it’s a little easier to deal with.

But those things scare me — rationally or not — and everything else is… Well, there are lots of things that can kill you that aren’t cancer, swine flu, or meteor impacts. That’s all. Try saying that to a doctor. It’s like saying is more to life than merely having vital signs.

Anyway, the verdict is I get to wait for another flare up of something fun and we’ll run more tests with the immunologist. I also know we didn’t test for something that was brought up last summer, but it was put off because of the rarity of it all and the tests are more invasive. I also learned this month that this family of disorders is very much associated with central diabetes insipidus, and pulmonary growths, and looks pretty unspectacular on blood tests.  I was told they might consider testing last year — before I developed the DI. The problem is that it’s so beyond the pale, my GP has some work cut out finding someone to really fill us in on how to proceed with testing and so forth.

And if someone wouldn’t wish something on their worst enemy — they aren’t suffering enough. If I could dump this on anyone else, I would, with the exception of two or three people. I can’t, it’s a pointless exercise really, but when you say it, people are often appalled. Sorry, folks. I don’t really want anyone to have to have it, but I really don’t think I should either. Stuff happens. I’d be happier if it were happening to someone else. Sue me. Because if you didn’t think similarly in this sort of situation, you’re probably not being completely honest with yourself. Just saying. I gotta be honest. It’s where my charm lives. Bwahahaha.

Bacon. I could use some bacon.

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>